Why English Majors actually suck

Let me start off by saying, I am an English Major, and I am guilty of 98% of the things listed here. But, I am also aware of how much I suck in the classroom, and it is my firm belief that, like driving, if I know I suck at it, it makes me somewhat better at it.

I didn’t always know I was an English major though I think others knew way before I ever had any intent to declare, and that is because I am a bit of a dick. If I were to make a word cloud of my most sent texts it would probably look something like this: you’re*, your*, their*, I love Plath, et cetera (no, like that would be in the word cloud), and the word “ampersand.”

The other day, when talking about driving a friend through both McDonald’s and Wendy’s (being in the latter’s drive-thru with the former’s food in our laps), I told my friends how embarrassing it was to almost hit rock bottom… actually I think my exact phrasing was “I had been weighed in the balance, and I was found wanting.”

All of this is to say, that I am not exempting myself from why English majors suck. I’m just trying to inform the public of what they already know, and make fun of some nerds while crushing some literary allusions at the same time. So without further ado, here is my definitive list of why English majors actually suck.

They think one class makes them an expert on something

Oh, you took the Bible with Cushman? And you’re telling me Milton’s Paradise Lost isn’t even based on a true biblical story it’s based on the Apocrypha? Go fuck yourself.

My god. You took an entire class on Ulysses and Infinite Jest?! Yes, please bring up how Joycean you find the work of Sappho, a female poet predating Joyce by centuries.

Look, it’s great that you’re connecting ideas you’ve learned in other classes with the material of a different class, but two days a week for one semester, does not give you a PhD in the subject matter. Hell, it barely gives you 3% of a B.A.. So, let’s calm down a bit next time and just say something relevant and simple, which leads me to my next point.

You use big words just for the sake of using big words

“The anaphora here creates a recursive effect, and the allusions create a diachronic and synchronic conversation with other such works, while the quotidian allows the poem to be accessible to the hoi polloi.” -Every asshole in every English class.

Here is a nondefinitive and always growing list of words you should never have to use in an English class unless your head is shoved way too far up your own ass, in which case seek medical attention: anaphoric, polyptotonic (if there’s a fucking red squiggly line underneath the word, you really don’t need to be using it), epistrophe (I’m a  poetry major and have never heard one of my professors use this word, only try-hard undergrads), anadiplosis, parataxis, etc.

In isolation, sure, these words aren’t terribly esoteric (except for polyptotonic and anadiplosis), but they also have very straight-forward definitions, it’s not like an untranslatable German word where we lose some meaning by not using the original word (holla for a dolla @schadenfreud), and you know you’ve got a problem when the tenured, published professor calls you out for the absurd choice of words you use.

There is a genius in simplicity, but if you’re having trouble reigning yourself in, just think of what you would normally say, then don’t say it.

You murder to dissect

The above is a modified quotation from William Wordsworth, and I’ve always found it especially relevant in English classes.

To this day, I do not understand where a mustachioed frat pledge gets off saying, “Plath is a terrible writer,” or a velvet-wearing, chain-smoking 19-year old girl saying, “I’m so sick of reading work by old, white men, like, Keats and Shakespeare aren’t that good.”

Shut the fuck up. Analysis is not synonymous with critique. Shakespeare and Keats and Plath and most every author read in a UVA English class is good. So when you go on about how terrible The Waste Land is, you aren’t earning points for “respectfully disagreeing” with the professor, you are earning points for the dumbest thing ever said. Congrats.

Furthermore, there is such a lack of appreciation amongst English undergrads for the work they read. They are so intent on analyzing it and trying to figure out “what it all means,” that they forgo using analysis to reinforce their praise for the poem. It’s so terrible to sit through a class destroying Emily Dickinson and not hear a single person say, “Hold on a second, this is incredible, what she did here is amazing.”

Instead, it’s looking at word choice and subject matter trying to say something “new and fresh.”

And, lastly, buying a $20 moleskin notebook does not make you smarter or more put together than your CVS-brand-wielding classmates

This is probably where I’m going to be the most hypocritical because I own like three moleskins (none of which are for taking notes in class though so I have that going for me), but I also have to tell it like it is.

English majors love being different, to the point where it actually frustrates me despite not usually giving a single fuck about anyone other than myself. I’ve seen people come to class in pajamas, in a spiderman suit, in flip flops in the rain, in suit and ties – I’ve even seen one kid who showed up to his exam in boxers, socks and new balances (clearly having overslept at some lucky lady friend’s dwelling), and I never once passed judgment on their sartorial choices.

With English majors, however, it’s something else entirely. I can’t help myself. Like, why are you wearing velvet and leather and vinyl? Why does your shirt have such puffy sleeves? Are you a pirate? Why do you look like a junior contestant on The Apprentice: Patterned Fabrics Edition?  It’s not the fashion choices per se, but more the feeling that you’re wearing something just to stand out.

You’re the type who wished your name started with a ‘Q’ so in the name game you could be like, “Hey my name is Quill, and I’m quirky!” Instead of just cruising with, “Hey I’m Claire, I’m a cold, frigid bitch” like the rest of us probably do.

This list is by no means definitive, because I’m sure I’m missing like 47 other things, but it is definitely all true. If offended, please direct all letters of complaint to “Hemingway was a racist misogynist” at “1022 Dickens was a Dick Alley.”