I have spent the past week reading this posthumous collection of stories and essays by Marina Keegan, pausing often for contemplation, and finishing this afternoon.
I wish there were more. That is to speak about the book itself, and the life of its author cut tragically short in 2012, a passenger to a boyfriend who fell asleep at the wheel.
Owing to their relatively short length, I'd like to use either her essay "Why We Care About Whales" or "Song for the Special" with my 4Us next year -- though really anything of hers strikes me as though it would be both relatable and discussion-provoking for those classes.
Aside from writing with a youthful astutity unparalleled by much else I've read, what strikes me most about Marina Keegan, having created most of her work throughout her undergrad is this:
As a young writer, she doesn't have the same sense of preemptive mortality as so many others. She talks of marriage and children, the food in which she intends to indulge on her (elderly) deathbed, and the idea that even writers can't achieve mortality if our planet will someday die.
It's poignant and admirable. I remember calling, writing into the dark ether of a blog at 19, shaken and shaking and unable to sleep: "If I die too soon, tell them I really lived." --
but here is someone who really did; who did not take too long to learn a lot of lessons it took me at least another ten years to know.
Respect. Rest peacefully and thank you for your words.
[Original goal list posted here.]
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