Memory #16: Everything Is Illuminated
“I have reflected many times upon our rigid search. It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us, on the inside, looking out. Like you say, inside out. Jonathan, in this way, I will always be along the side of your life. And you will always be along the side of mine.” (Alex, in Everything is Illuminated)
He wonders if the past is just the past, or if it really is “along side of us, on the inside, looking out?” He writes memories. Where do they come from, if not from the inside?
He remembers grading writing portfolios. At the end of every fall semester for the past ten years he has read the revised work of his freshmen writing students. These portfolios tell the story of their semester; they are testaments of their devotion to the writing process. But they are also examples of the past making its way from their insides and out on to the page.
He reads these testimonials: nine essays on various topics; a research paper; commentaries on how each paper has been revised and improved since he last saw it; a self-evaluation of each paper; a cover letter reflecting on the writer’s growth over the course of the semester. He grades them, sure. But he reads them. With wonder. And gratitude.
Everything–(Is this hyperbole? No! Let it stand.)–everything is illuminated in the light of the past.
Inside out.
