The Grand -- If you cut me, I would shine. - the conversation i was having in my head

In other news,

One of my favorite professors from grad school, Sue Rosowski, died Monday.

My first conversation with Sue was in 1998. I was working in a fine (read boring and hopelessly unsatisfying) job and had decided that I probably ought to go back to school. I had, not untypically, made that decision fairly late and had missed registration, so I had to call Sue and ask for an override to get into her already-full seminar. She was polite enough but informed me that she did not grant overrides. She suggested that I wait until after the first day of classes and then try again and ended the conversation saying, "I hope to see you in the seminar." Yeah right.

I did end up getting into that class and quickly found out that when Sue said she hoped to see me in the seminar, she very likely meant it--not because of me but because she was without guile. (Side story: Later in my grad school career I tried to sign up for another class of Sue's--Literature of the Environment. Again it was full, again I called for an override, and again she told me nooverridewaituntilclassesstarttryagainIhopetoseeyouintheseminar. This time, though, I couldn't get in--there was a waiting list of over 20 people. I ran into Sue on campus a week or so into the semester and she wondered why I wasn't in the seminar; I told her no go on the trying to get in. She asked me if I would be willing to take the class if she let me in. Are you kidding? It cost me $150 to change my registration that late, but I got to trade for my class on the American Renaissance, which I ha-ha-HAted. Cha-ching!)

I loved that seminar (English 990: Research Methods) and came to admire Sue so much that my friend Trish and I started scheming how I could live with her--she was the kind of woman you just wanted to soak in rather than merely observe.

I wrote a paper in that first class that would haunt me for the next six years--that is, it haunts me still. The paper was about memory, and, yeah, I thought it was interesting but nothing particularly special. Sue LOVED it. Love, love, loved it. And she hounded me, hounded me to get it published. She made me read it at the English Graduate Student Association Conference (I tried to get out of it, but, truly, no one says no to Sue Rosowski). She asked me about that paper every. single. time. I saw her for the next five years (with the exception of class as mentioned in the side story above--but she did ask about it when I ran into her outside of the library and made the deal to get into her class). She asked me about it when I ran into her at the press, when I ran into her at Tandoor, and she even sent me a copy of a journal that she thought I should try to submit it to (this a full five years after the seminar ended). Every time my answer was a sheepish "no, I haven't gotten that paper published." Not necessarily one of the big regrets of my life, but I did think it would have been wise to have tried so at least we could have a little variety in our conversations.

Sue lived and breathed Willa Cather studies. She was at the press about a week before she died-- knowing these were her final days, she was very concerned that the Cather scholarly editions would continue to be published on schedule and in the same manner. It's hard for me to imagine being that passionate about nearly anything--certainly not about a single author--but she was. (She moved to Nebraska in 1969 and became the world's preeminent scholar on Willa Cather. Imagine that.)

Sue was a great scholar and teacher--tough, kind, interesting herself and interested in others, and persistent. I liked her very, very much personally as well. After that first phone call, I never doubted that Sue cared about me--as a student, as a person, and later even as a colleague. It truly was my privilege to have known her, and she will be missed.

Posted by Renae at November 3, 2004 11:04 AM