Hollins University. Original Bradley Hall, Creative Writing Grad Center, the place of much genius work, and the location of many strange occurrences, including unwanted "photography exhibits," shots taken at parties the night before, and the temporary home of a lost professor -- a live chicken.
Loaded: Tackling Hitchcock and Fellini
During the first semester in grad school, I was partying so much that I pretty much lost touch with reality and at some point, I had to write this long term paper on Hitchcock, one that counted for half of the grade for the entire semester. Sure, it was a big deal, so I repeatedly got loaded and watched Hitchcock’s Marnie, and I was all ready to sit down and concentrate on the writing but instead, I got totally loaded again. Overall, it was the worst paper I’ve ever written.
I wrote something crazy, head-splitting, and pseudo-deep about tracing the color yellow throughout the film. The entire paper was about yellow. That’s right -- every single word had a reference to yellow. There’s only so much one can say about yellow, and it was over ten pages long -- including footnotes and references -- and this genius work would have been hilarious to anyone who wasn't inside my fucked up head. At the time, I thought I was the deepest, yellowest person on the planet. I was the sun, an egg yolk, the yellow slide at the pool. I was a yellow Frisbee, a yellow sun visor, yellow hair. I was a banana, a lemon, a rubber ducky. And on and on.
But interestingly enough, the paper was so bad and so funny that I got an A-. I lucked out because my professor thought it was hilarious. That must’ve been what saved me, because it was horrible, and I made twisted symbolic connections that made no sense really. Like an acid trip within a paper. Really, the paper should’ve been called, “Get Comfy Because For Ten Pages, I Will Be Talking Out of My Asshole.”
Ten pages of nothing but yellow. I was so obsessed…it just got deeper and deeper and deeper. First, I wrote about yellow objects, then shades of yellow, then about dialogue that was a reference to yellow. I made numerous, super deep connections to the sun and butter and everything yellow, and none of it had anything at all to do with the movie, but the title of it was, “Tracing the Color Yellow Through Hitchcock’s Marnie.” I would’ve given me an A+, just because it was so terrifying and funny, but I guess I was lucky to get the A-.
My professor must’ve roared when he read the thing. The best part was that he wrote a two-page long, deep, yellow commentary on the back of the paper, and his critique was even better than the paper. Even funnier, considering this man is a highly esteemed, well known, award-winning, published author, and he’s considered a genius by many, and yet he took the time to write a two-page ridiculous commentary on my ridiculous paper.
Once, for the same professor, I wrote a research (extensively researched) paper on Fellini’s La Strada, and I started it off like this: “Are you a woman or an artichoke?” It was a reference to a quote in the film, but the way it read, it seemed like I was asking the professor that question. Of course, I went on and on about artichokes. Pages about nothing other than artichokes. I thought I might fail Fellini, but I got an “A,” amazingly enough.
I’m lucky I made it through grad school. Hell, I’m lucky to be alive. Back then, I was running on booze and coffee, not much else. Maybe a yellow cookie here and there. Here’s to all things yellow and strange plants pulling me through.
Ah, look at the progress. Are you a woman or an artichoke?
C.A. MacConnell
