Month: April 2026

Looking back on this semester, I can honestly say I’m really happy with the selection of books I read. There was a wide variety in terms of style, setting, and narrative voice, but at the same time, there were some interesting similarities that tied everything together. It also feels especially meaningful that this was my last class of undergrad and that it fulfilled my literature requirement in such an engaging and memorable way. I couldn’t have asked for a better course to end on.

Something I really appreciated about this class was the format itself. Writing weekly blog posts was honestly a fun way to engage with the readings. Instead of feeling like a chore, it gave me space to reflect more casually on what I noticed, what confused me, and what stood out to me personally. I also really liked having the ability to choose which books I wanted to read. That level of flexibility made the course feel more personal, and I found myself more invested in the material because of it.

Another thing that made a big difference for me was how the class was run. Jon made discussions feel genuinely engaging rather than forced. He brought in perspectives that I hadn’t considered before and encouraged us to think more critically about what we were reading. What I appreciated most was that he was always open to different interpretations, even more controversial or unconventional takes. That made the classroom feel like a space where ideas could actually be explored rather than just repeated.

In terms of favourite texts, The Shrouded Woman was definitely the one that stood out the most to me. There was something about the way it explored memory, identity, and perspective that really stuck with me. The structure itself felt unique, and I found it interesting how the narrative challenged the way we usually think about life and death. It also connected back to some of the broader themes we saw throughout the semester, especially around how people understand themselves and how their lives are remembered.

Overall, this course changed the way I think about literature. I’ve come to see it less as something that has a single meaning to uncover, and more as something open to interpretation and discussion. Romance Studies, to me now, feels like a space where literature becomes a way to explore culture, history, and social issues all at once. The readings were sometimes challenging, but ultimately really rewarding, and I feel like I’m leaving the course and my undergrad as a whole with a much more open and thoughtful approach to reading

Reading Love Me Tender by Constance Debré felt kind of like being dropped into someone’s brain mid-thought with no filter, no neat explanations, just raw emotion and sharp observations. It’s definitely not a traditional narrative, and that’s one of the first things I noticed. The writing is stripped down, almost blunt, and it moves in fragments rather than a smooth, linear story. At times it felt disorienting, but I think that’s intentional and it mirrors the instability in the narrator’s life.

What I found most interesting was how Debré explores identity, especially through loss. The narrator gives up a lot whether it be her marriage, her role as a mother (at least in a conventional sense), and her place within a certain social class. There’s this constant tension between freedom and consequence. On one hand, she’s rejecting societal expectations and trying to live authentically. On the other, the cost of that authenticity is incredibly high, especially when it comes to her relationship with her son. That trade-off felt like one of the core emotional conflicts of the book.

I also liked how unapologetic the narrator is. She doesn’t try to make herself likable or justify her decisions in a way that would make readers comfortable. There’s something refreshing about that honesty, even when it’s hard to sit with. It forces you to confront your own judgments, like why do we expect her to feel guilt in a certain way? Why do we measure her choices against traditional ideas of motherhood or success?

That said, the style didn’t always work for me. The fragmented structure and repetitive phrasing sometimes made it hard to stay engaged. There were moments where I felt like I was reading the same emotional note over and over again without much development. I get that this might reflect obsession or fixation, but it did make parts of the book feel a bit stagnant.

One thing I found puzzling is the emotional distance in the narration. Even when describing really intense experiences like losing custody of her child, the tone can feel almost detached. I’m not sure if that’s a defense mechanism, a stylistic choice, or both. It made me wonder how we’re supposed to interpret her emotional state: is she numb, or is she deliberately refusing to perform emotion for the reader?

In class, I’d want to talk more about whether the narrator is meant to be sympathetic. Not in a simple “like or dislike” way, but in terms of how the book challenges our expectations of empathy.