Dr. Samatar or: How I learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Lawn
It’s my thing and I can’t get past it. The problem is that we live in a part of South Carolina where the soil isn’t accommodating. Our yard is basically sand and any landscaper worth their salt will tell you that grass won’t grow in sand. I don’t care, I need this green shag carpet. I don't know why I need it, I just do. Thanks to Monster Portraits, maybe I now have an inkling of understanding.
Our class interviewed Dr. Sofia Samatar about her book Monster Portraits. The book is a collection of short stories, a few pages or less, about various monsters inspired and accompanied by artwork created by her brother, Del Samatar. One of my classmates asked about which was hardest to write about. Her response was that monsters are supposed to make us uncomfortable, that we are supposed to want to get rid of them. When it was my turn to ask questions, I asked her about a line in the short story “The Shadow Beast”. The line goes like this:
The rider offered me a cup of black milk seasoned with aloe.
My question was why? What was the symbolism that my brain couldn’t wrap around? Why subvert something so nearly universal as the color of milk.
Her response was absolutely shocking to me. You see, I had always believed that authors had intent in the choice of every word. Her answer was that, and I'm oversimplifying here, sometimes the universe just puts something in your head and you use it. So it was with the black milk. She stated that she wasn't trying to make it a symbol, that an author will, "surrender to images that occur during the process of writing, even if they don't know why it feels right." So I was right. There is intent, even if the author may not know the reason behind it.
Sometimes, symbols create themselves. Sometimes, the symbols are there all along and it just takes time for their symbolism to come to light. That's what Dr. Samatar said, in a nutshell, that it's for the critics to figure out later.
This got me wondering. How much of human discomfort and suffering is us willfully ignoring the will of the universe? I mean, we all sometimes know what to do and when to do it without any external influences. That’s the universe guiding us, right?Is my green lawn fetish an example of me following the guidance of the universe or ignoring it? I’ve been fighting this battle for six years. I’ve tried every strain of grass seed imaginable with no results. I think the sandlot that is my front yard is my monster. Or it's not. My next effort is to use clover. Maybe the universe is telling me to have a dusty wasteland of a lawn. Or maybe the universe knows that the joy comes from the struggle and I should keep pounding away at my Sisyphian task. I guess it only matters if you have a preferred flavor. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry-they’re all still just ice cream.
