Bill Lynch was another of my English professors at what was then St. Joseph's College (which was a small, old-fashioned Jesuit college, still governed by the ratio studiorum - hence four years of theology as well as two full years of scholastic philosophy. Throw in some Latin and Greek - as I did - and you could graduate with something resembling a traditional classical education).
Bill was a great teacher, whose view of literature exerted a lasting influence on me. That view was that literature isn't primarily about form or technique, but life. One reads fiction and poetry, one attends plays - Bill was big on theater - in order to learn how to observe life better in order to live it well. He taught the course in Chaucer and I can still remember him pointing out that we've all met the Wife of Bath - and so we have; in fact, I believe she was my grandmother. I also remember him once coming into the class he taught on the modern novel on the day a test was scheduled, and telling us the test would consist of only one question. He then proceded to read an extremely complex question about Joyce's Ulysses. The panic that ran through the class was palpable. But, no sooner had we grimly set about the hopeless task of writing an answer, Bill started laughing: "Do you guys really think I'd give you a test on St. Paddy's Day?" (Yes, in that antediluvian time, St. Joe's was not coeducational.)
The world is a lesser place for Bill's passing. I am grateful for the privilege of having known and been taught by him. As I have pointed out before, we are not educated by buildings, but by those very special human beings known as teachers.
Bill was a great teacher, whose view of literature exerted a lasting influence on me. That view was that literature isn't primarily about form or technique, but life. One reads fiction and poetry, one attends plays - Bill was big on theater - in order to learn how to observe life better in order to live it well. He taught the course in Chaucer and I can still remember him pointing out that we've all met the Wife of Bath - and so we have; in fact, I believe she was my grandmother. I also remember him once coming into the class he taught on the modern novel on the day a test was scheduled, and telling us the test would consist of only one question. He then proceded to read an extremely complex question about Joyce's Ulysses. The panic that ran through the class was palpable. But, no sooner had we grimly set about the hopeless task of writing an answer, Bill started laughing: "Do you guys really think I'd give you a test on St. Paddy's Day?" (Yes, in that antediluvian time, St. Joe's was not coeducational.)
The world is a lesser place for Bill's passing. I am grateful for the privilege of having known and been taught by him. As I have pointed out before, we are not educated by buildings, but by those very special human beings known as teachers.
Mr. Wilson, thanks for your very kind words about my Dad. He loved to teach and did use literature and music and the theater to put the world in context. That was on of the many gifts he left with us; how the world, especially the people in it, can be seen so clearly through the arts.
ReplyDeleteHe encouraged lively debate in the family and everyone had an opinion about the topic at hand. We argued passionately and usually with laughter. My Dad would quote Joyce, Groucho Marx, his father, a Jesuit priest or a childhood friend to make his case.
If you haven't read his book, you should. It's called, "Just a Philadelphia Boy." It's pure Dad.
Again, thanks for letting folks know how Dad touched your life.
Bill Lynch (Jr.)