Practice Makes Perfect

I begged Mom to let me play the piano. Dad was a wonderful pianist and often taught me the note names or how to read the staff. However, our lessons were unstructured and Dad had very little time on his hands. When Mom suggested I learn how to play from a professional teacher I literally jumped up and down, as a seven year-old should. The first lesson was exciting as I sat on the bench next to my teacher and learned the basics. However, playing the piano proved harder than I had imagined: practicing was boring, my hands hurt, and I was not a concert pianist by the end of the first month. The piano took consistent practice. However, even when music was formed from the keys my fingers touched, it took a considerable amount of time to internalize, perform, and appreciate detail in the music. I feel that my experience in my English 251 (Intro to English Studies) class at Brigham Young University has been parallel in many ways to my experience with learning the piano.

My excitement upon entering the class was extreme considering the amount of time I have wanted to be an English Teaching major (which is several years, in this case). I knew that I would be learning a considerable amount especially in regards to analysis of literature. The first day was exciting and I felt ready to internalize what I was learning. However, the analysis proved harder than I had originally anticipated. The analysis was no longer solely based on form and literary devices but could be discovered from separate viewpoints. I remember being slightly frustrated as I tried to understand New Historicism, Feminism, or Marxism and how they related to what I was analyzing. 

To add to the newness of the subject was analyzing how these literary devices created an effect. I remember Professor Burton saying things like, "That's great that you found the alliteration. Now what is the effect that it has on the audience?" or "You identified the form but why is that important to us?" I often struggled to express the connection. 

Like the piano, as I tried to analyze literature with the new skills I had learned, I was clumsy at first. Just like "Fur Elise" sounds a little like rickety wagon ride at first, my analysis (like "Elephant in the Room" or "Death of a Salesman" from this blog) often resembled a painting of Picasso-- evident that it was an analysis but blurred as to the details. However, the more I practiced, the better I became. 

There is a moment in a musician's life when the music moves beyond notes on a page and becomes something that is felt-- a way of expressing themselves. Writing has that potential, even in literary analysis. I have not mastered literary analysis, just like I have never become a concert pianist. But I have grown in my ability and am more willing to practice.