The Faint, Fine Stench of Dog

It's been ten days, and still there's a slight undertone of Dammit Emily in the house. Today she's getting a shampoo at The Terrible Place Where They Give Poorly Treated Dogs Nummy Things Afterward, and we're replacing her bed. But my God, that stuff is persistent. I've washed all the bedding in our room twice. I've washed my nightgowns. I've (seriously) rinsed out my nose. And still there's a whiff of skunk about it all.  Which may explain why I've spent three days out of five at Workshop Cafe this week, making calls, dropping in job applications, and working on The World's Least Obliging Book.

Gerda Taranow

Just heard that one of my favorite teachers at Connecticut College has died: Gerda Taranow, a professor in the English Department. She taught the two survey courses I took my Freshman year, English 110 and 112. The first day of English 110 she came into the room--I remember her as a tiny little bird of a woman, almost vibrating with her enthusiasm. And after the usual "this is English 110 and here's the syllabus" business she picked up a book, did not bother opening it, but started reciting the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales with such music and such joy that I was immediately smitten. Thereafter I spent my time in the language labs listening to the Canterbury Tales and not my Spanish assignments.  I had a total of four courses with her at Conn, and she brought that same passion and enthusiasm, and the same determination that anyone who was open to it should share some of that passion and joy, to each of those classes.

When Archibald Macleish, then the Poet Laureate I think, came to speak at the college, Miss Taranow urged me to see his talk. Afterward there was a small reception in the green room at Palmer Auditorium, and she insisted that I come. I was overawed, but she started a conversation with MacLeish and pulled me into it. I suspect we didn’t speak very long—five minutes at most.  As we were leaving, I said (totally starstruck) “he’s really nice.” She smiled and told me, “The great ones always are.”

I don’t know if that is true, or optimistic, but it was certainly true of her. The decades of students who had the benefit of her tuition and her friendship were truly lucky.