Once again I find myself pondering what Literature is, however it is such a large encompassing question.  Perhaps it would be be best narrow the topic down.  Whittle away at the edges, if you will.  Perhaps the question should be what is American Literature?  Even that is such a disputed topic, yet again I find myself at the edge of a philosophical question.

The other day I stopped by my mom's, having very little to say about myself I began to speak of school.  I told her of the two stories we read.  I briefly summarized them in the raw.  She asked me what the point of the literature was, or rather what was the significance of their work.  She said that she hadn't heard of either author.  I wasn't sure. I had never heard of either authors either.  Then she asked me the question that really hit home, "I wonder how they decided which author goes into the text book?"  I told her I didn't know the answer to that either.  I looked at our syllabus with her to show her what other authors we were going to read.  She said that she was familiar with Booker T. Washington.  I could only picture the wrestler from the WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment).  I wonder if there is any connection between the wrestler and the writer.  I left for home pondering.  Trying to clam my mind I turned to Booker T's "Up from Slavery."

That night as I lay in bed, my mind began racing as it often does.  My mind shifted from the immediate present to the distant future.  I began to think of the project that is due.  Half thought's swirled.  Literature in... rap?  I know that, that genre of music gets a bad rap.  An old man once told me that rap stood for Rhythm and Poetry.  But that is another story in and of itself.  Perhaps Literature in... Movies?  The Hobbit just came out, I love fantasy that's were my affair with literature began.  However I doubt Tolkien could be considered American Literature.  Perhaps video games, after it is just an interactive story.  I find myself thinking of my favorite books, and the author R.A. Salvatore.  Where to begin...

The next day at work I was thinking about the short speech I had read, and I made the comment to my coworker, "I can't believe how racist this country was a hundred years ago."  It's something that has slipped from my mind, it's not something I've witnessed in my life.  Sure I've heard racial slurs, and been witness to discrimination.  But nothing on the level of the turn of the 19th century.  It's not something we talk about.  It's a scar of a once open wound, the outline is fient, but it there.  It's just below the surface ready to be scratched at.  But she said something that opened my eyes.  "You have to remember, it wasn't just racial discrimination there was social discrimination too."

Perhaps that's it the key to American Literature.  It provides us with a glimpse into a world we cannot walk in ourselves.  I began to think of "The Lost Beautifulness".  In this story we get a glimpse of the harshness of the struggling immigrant.  And in, "The Other Two", we get a glimpse of the social hierarchy, and perhaps the possession of women.  In, "In the Land of the Free", we get to see America through the eyes of Chinese Immigrants. Each of these stories come from a distant past, yet it is our job to relate them to our world.