After spending about two and a half months working myself up into a good (and wildly frustrated) lather over my thesis, figuratively banging my head against walls, and trying to figure out how I can tie in H. P. Lovecraft with queer theory, I think that I’m giving up. The other night in Dr. Thomas’ theory class, it occurred to me – in the same way it suddenly occurs to you that you’ve had a splitting headache for the past two hours – that I was uncomfortable with my pursuit. I still love Lovecraft, and I’m still intrigued with queer theory, but I find myself wanting to return to more familiar grounds.
I read a biography of T.S. Eliot when I was a senior in high school, and I remember one particular passage. Eliot was discussing his Christian upbringing in relation to the period in his young adulthood when participated in other religions. He said something like this: “I’m seeing what the world has to say about the matter of spirituality, and I’m participating in those global rituals, but I know that at the end of my life, when death and possible salvation lie near, I’ll return to kiss the cross.” Of course, Eliot died an Anglican.
Well, here, I’m about to kiss the cross again.
My undergraduate degree was in Religious Studies, and every time I read a text, I unintentionally focus on how religiosity and sex operate in work.
But religion trumps sex. I want to draw upon my experience as an undergrad, and I can do that more easily writing about religion than I can sexuality.
The question now becomes what to focus on. A week ago, I was happy to examine late Victorian texts, but now that I’ve broadened my focus to include religious studies, I think about studying Thomas Pynchon or Herman Melville or James Joyce or Simone Weil or Hart Crane or a bunch of other writers who smack of mystical influence.
For the first time in a while, I’m feeling inspired. Why do I feel so horrible about ditching an unproductive thesis topic?
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