Every Inch a Professor

Before Thanksgiving I called my beloved Shakespeare Professor. She is in her mid-nineties and I have kept in contact with her since I was a young college student. I have looked to her as a teacher and mentor throughout my life. I even called her when I knew I was not going to achieve the PhD. at Brown University. She responded then, as always, with kindness and grace. This past Wednesday I dialed her number and heard her voice, but I could tell she was not well. My heart sank. I suddenly realized that she would not always be there.

How can I explain in a few paragraphs what she taught me over so many courses? She believed that Shakespeare wove his marvelous plays out of the Elizabethan World view, Classical thought and Judaeo-Christian heritage. Looking at  King Lear, for instance, she helped us see the turbulence raging on the outside mirroring his own madness inside. Lear has ruled for many years.  As age begins to overtake him, he decides to divide his kingdom among his children. He is deceived by the conniving Goneril and the flattering Regan. Lear knows little about what it is to be a King. He does not understand love, authority, fatherhood, and kingship. He only knows the “trappings” of the kingdom – the buildings and the wealth and when he is stripped of all these things he is better able to understand kingship. In the end he is able to “see” when he is blind. He has lost his beloved Cordelia – his heart’s love – and faithful Kent. Lear when most mad is then mentored by the fool- the poorest and the humblest- to learn suffering and to feel. Lear knows that he has made many mistakes. Play after play we learned about love, justice, mercy, forgiveness & all manner of humanness – all central themes to both Shakespeare and, I believe, our faith.

This is what I was able to experience week after week sitting in her company and studying all the Shakespearean plays. She taught us that a Shakespearean play should be looked at through the mind’s eye and listened to with the heart. As I ponder long about my dear Professor, I remember that she taught me at the highest level – beckoning me on a journey of learning that has never ended. She would begin each class asking us: “O class, come with me.” Before each exam, she would pray aloud for our success: “Oh Lord, please help them remember.” And then at the end she would send us into the world beseeching us to read each play one more time, as though our lives depended on it. She would dismiss us in her deep southern voice: “Bye-Bye.”