One of my many sisters came to my house this morning, accompanied by 15-year-old daughter, one of my many nieces. They wanted to borrow a copy of Beowulf. The conversation went something like this:
SIS: Do you have a copy of Beowulf? The Kid here has to do a report on it for school.
ME: Which one do you want? I have at least three. I have one in a Norton anthology in modern English prose, and one just in Old English, and one edition which has both the Old English on one page and a modern English translation in verse on the opposite page. That one’s probably best.
KID: Oh, none of those. Do you have a copy of the movie?
ME: Um, no. You realize I only own three DVDs, right? But I think my stepdaughter does. Anyway, if she has to write a report on the poem, she should probably read it. The movie’s not all all that faithful.
SIS: Never mind. I’ll just borrow **Cinderella the Rhymer’s **version. Kid, run to your cousin’s room and see if you can find it and make sure you leave her a note.
ME: Wait! What’s the exact assightment?
KID: (checking assignment sheet) It can be either on the use of poetic devices in Beowulf or on the tension between Christian and pagan influences on the poem. I’ll just watch the movie! (runs to Cinderella’s room)
ME: Okay, seriously, sis, y’all need to borrow the parallel translation, or at least get the Spark notes. She’s not going to get what she needs from the movie, unless you need another reason to hate Angelina Jolie.
SIS: We don’t have time to read it, and it’s hard anyway. I just want the short version.
ME: The movie isn’t the *short *version. It’s the version crafted by someone who spent the entire movie-making process under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs.
SIS: Oh, stop being so snobbish. We doesn’t have time to read all that crap, and who cares about it anyway? It’s just about old dead vikings. Is there any real difference?
ME: (goggling) Well, um, basically everything except for the name of the main characters. And as the dialogue in the movie is not delivered in poetic form, she can’t get information on kennings and such.
SIS: Why do you ALWAYS exaggerate?
KId: (returning from Cinderella’s bedroom with copy of Beowulf and, for mysterious reasons, illegal copies of Wolverine & Star Trek). Got 'em. I’m ready to go!
ME: Wait! Baby, you know, I DO have a mostly useless degree in English literature, and I’ve written my senior paper on poetry of that period when I was an undergrad, and I’ve read Beowulf at least twenty times. I can help you with your paper tomorrow afternoon.
SIS: No, that won’t work. You don’t know how to write like a child. Never mind. We’ll just watch this and do the paper from that.
ME: But…
SIS: It’ll be fine.
KID: Thanks, Uncle Dude!
I’m willing to bet this paper will get a grade other than A.