Paper Towns and the Idolatry of Imagination: Part 1—Strings

Posted by Caleb Coy on

“Doing stuff never feels as good as you hope it will feel.”

Part 1: Strings
John Green’s novel, Paper Towns, soon to be a film, can be read as a kind of spiritual parable. With the exception of TFIOS, his three other novels seem to follow a similar formula: Eccentric yet normal teen boy falls for unattainable and eccentric girl because she is such a mystery, and she becomes a puzzle for him to solve as much as a love interest to pursue. Academic references must follow. Were it not for the occasional sexual controversy, Green seems to be begging for his books to be taught in school, pushing aside bulky classics less relevant to teens.
Continue reading →

10 Reasons I am not a Hipster

Posted by Caleb Coy on

10 Reasons I am not a Hipster:

1. My bike has gears, and the maintenance I do on it consists solely of pumping the tires.

2. I did like the Avett Brothers before they were cool, but I also still like them, and do not believe they have sold out.

3. I have never voted Democrat, and just because I’ve been fair to Obama doesn’t mean I like him. Continue reading →

An Autobiography in 20 Random Moments

Posted by Caleb Coy on

Recall a few years ago when those Facebook posts were popular: “My 30 Favorite songs” or “20 things you don’t know about me”.  One I have yet to see is this:
20 random, seemingly insignificant, yet nonetheless vivid moments in your life that are not at all monumental.  The idea behind it is this: If you made a list of such memories, would you be able to find a common thread, a sustaining narrative, that would explain you through these small moments in your life?  What was it that made you remember them?  Was it just scents and sounds?  Or was it some underlying significance?
Continue reading →

Using Semisonic and The Lumineers to Teach High School Poetry

Posted by Caleb Coy on

Whenever I introduce a poetry unit to my high school students, I always begin by reviewing a list of literary terms, with an example song (usually “Colorblind” by Counting Crows) that uses many devices. I then have them identify as many literary terms as they can in a song they select on their own. I trick them into admitting that they like poetry…as long as it’s mostly rhyme and rhythm accompanied by music.
Continue reading →

The Imagery of “Have You Seen Jesus My Lord?”

Posted by Caleb Coy on

I’ll always remember that first time at church camp when I learned the John Fisher spiritual song, “Have You Seen Jesus My Lord?” I was about nine. I would sometimes picture the songs we would sing. (For example, I would picture the line “to you alone does my spirit yield”  in “As the deer” as (for some reason) a chalky cartoon version of me meeting Christ on a road and letting him pass ahead of me, leading me.) Then I learned to sing “Have you seen Jesus my Lord? He’s here in plain view.”
Continue reading →

Doing Delilah [a short story]

Posted by Caleb Coy on

[The following short story, “Doing Delilah,” was published by Midwestern Literary Magazine in November 2010, and subsequently in their volume, Bearing North. I must admit I rushed the story to publication before it was truly ready. The beginning needed some work, and you can tell I have never myself seen battle. Some of it is based on accounts I have heard from those who have seen battle. I keep this story as a learning experience. I figured I could share it as one too.]

DOING DELILAH

by Caleb Coy

“Can’t you see, oh, can’t you see,
what that woman— she’s been doing to me?”
-Marshall Tucker

Was a long, hot day, and there was fighting through every minute of it.  We had a whole battalion stationed just outside Fallujah to secure the rail yards North of the city.  It took about two days, even with help from the Iraqis.  The snipers and booby traps were the worst part for us.  Heavy infantry poured into the city.  Infantry.  Infants.  Some mother’s baby each guy was.  Patrolling in an unarmed jeep and thinking about his own babies.  His own infants.

I could talk about it all day.  But that’s one of the unwritten rules.  You don’t talk about it.  You don’t talk about the fighting and you don’t talk about yourself.  I could talk about myself anyway.  But I’m not.  I’m going to do what any good, self-respecting man does when he returns.  I’m going to tell stories about someone else.  I’m going to talk about Special Officer Martin Caporaso.

But to get to him I have to start with myself.  Grew up in Virginia.  That’s the funny thing.  People always hear about soldiers coming from the armpit of some southern state—that, or Ohio or Indiana.  Like it’s the all-American kid from Ohio, Indiana, or some hole-in-the-wall town in Tennessee.  That’s where Martin Caporaso was from.  Tennessee.  Me, I was born in Virginia.  It’s no armpit.

Back home I wasn’t much of anything like Martin Caporaso was.  I wasn’t a quarterback.  I wasn’t on the homecoming court.  Didn’t sleep with the Queen and her two friends, start my own indie band, or manage to out-drink every adult in the county.  I worked at an arcade and had a girlfriend for two weeks. What did I do for fun?  I played lazer tag after work until the glowing vests needed recharging.  I didn’t have it born in me to be a soldier, but I thought I would be good at shooting things.  Without a thought about college I enlisted, and the next thing I knew the towers fell and we were at war.  I had two weeks before going to Fallujah.

Continue reading →