the metaphorical main character.

second semester of freshman year, i had this tyrannical english teacher who just hated my writing. he was actually a really nice person…but i don’t get poetry. or symbolism in any kind of literature, which was the point of the class(i got a D, so it didn’t transfer to ciu…hence why i had to take wenger’s class last spring), so my papers were never very good.
there was one short story we had to read and do a character analysis for. it was about this really eccentric woman who had a really old house and it’s told from the point of view of the other people in the town who want to tear the house down, b/c it smells bad and doesn’t look that nice. at the end it turns out the woman has been playing house with her husband’s dead body for years. creepy stuff…i had nightmares about it.
to tie a bow around this story that was supposed to be a really brief introduction to my point: in my paper i wrote about the woman, the townspeople, and the house itself.
evil mr jones gave me a C and said that the house was NOT a character.
i still don’t understand why. i know it doesn’t speak, or react to any other characters, but it’s such a major part of the story, and more importantly, i needed THREE characters to analyze, and who else was there? the dead husband? they don’t even mention him until the end.
so. why am i telling you this scary story and why my english teacher was such a legalistic jerk?
because i was thinking about camp. as always.
i thought about how camp itself is a character in the story of any summer. how it rains there every last day, like it’s crying with us(even though i guess that’s the clouds above camp, not camp itself but whatever). how it never changes even though we do. how it stays put no matter where we go, and it’s always waiting for us when we want to come back to it. how so many hearts would break if it died.
now that i’m remembering that beautiful essay that deserved an A, i really forgot my point. i had a lot more to say about camp than that.

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