coromandal


crisis and deviation (heterotopia 2)

This the second post on Michel Foucault’s of Other Space, 1967.  The first post is called the discovery of infinite space.

On my first day in boarding school, I was eight and, I think, brimming with expectation.  It was bright and cold and the mountain air was thin:  I was wearing jeans and a jean jacket, I could see my breath and smell eucalyptus.  We met my dorm mother, put my tin trunk in the tiny dorm room and said our good byes, my mom and I, on the narrow grassy edge between the dorm and a drop off to the lake 50 yards away.  I sat on a swing while she tidied up emotional loose ends with some questions about feelings and some advice.  And then she was gone.

My new roommate waited and we walked up the hundred covered steps through the academic quad, past the dining hall and down to the squash courts where we played frisbee.  And that’s all I remember of that day.  Someone told me I would, and perhaps should, be homesick and once or twice in the first few weeks I lay in bed, under flannel sheets and prickly black wool blankets, and tried to cry. Continue reading

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