This web is, of course, metaphorical - including the little broken strands. They indicate the impossibility (still) of getting our Verizon router to route anything. This is frustrating... It also stands for, necessarily, the convoluted round of meetings and correspondence and emails and phone calls that mark this pre-semester week, enmeshed with awkward extras like actually pulling a syllabus together.
This was a real web, of course, shimmering incandescently (that sheen was on the spider's rope itself, not on the lens) in our back yard this morning.-, looking, for that matter, as though it was mimicking the grooves of a 78 record hanging from the tree. It raises the question of whether a web can ever not be seen as metaphorical, given how over-determined it is both through information technology allusions and close acquaintance with Middlemarch - both when it comes to organic community, intellectual mutual imbrication, and Eliot's snarky aside about Rosamond's romantic imaginations as she traps Lydgate into "that gossamer web - young lovemaking." One is thus reminded, therefore, that webs - like this one - tend to have a predatory spider at their center, and that's the scary thing about treating this as a metaphor: what's out there, waiting, scheming, and hungry?
No comments:
Post a Comment