there's a street super close to me called "Brill"

it's about one hundred meters long. if that.

I always feel so creepy when I people watch. I like Miss Brill's take on it. I'm not so much people watching as I am playing a character who people watches. I mean, after all,

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players..."

(thanks, Bill)

I really do feel bad for her though. she doesn't even realize that no one around her likes her. she's an English woman in France teaching English. she's naive. and she just doesn't understand what goes on really. I hope I'm not that person..

also, what's up with the comment about not noticing if the guy was dead? that creeps me out a little bit. I'm not going to lie.

there's a little boy at St. Roch named Phoenix

... it's sad to think of crazy people named Phoenix. I love that kid.

again, I don't remember the number of the question, but I believe it was the last one regarding "A Worn Path" in the book. It asked if it mattered if the grandson was dead or not or if the story doesn't matter. I think it's really cool that the author, when asked, responded with "well, Phoenix is alive."

and that's all that really matters, I think.

just because the woman is probably mentally ill - okay, probably definitely mentally ill - does not mean that she can't live out her memory of her grandson. she lives her life just fine. a little bit more strangely than most people do, perhaps, but living nonetheless. she harms no one. she seems happy - save for the occasional threat directed towards the plants - and content with the way she is. any maybe that's because she's too naive to know what's truly going on, but I feel like in times like this it doesn't matter. I'm with the author in that it doesn't really have much bearing on the story whether the grandson is alive or not.

I personally don't think he is, but I think Phoenix would behave in the same (or very similar) manner if he were.

I remember when I used to really be into nostalgia...

"The Oxen" presents an interesting instance. especially for someone who is religious, namely Christian, and celebrates Christmas. in the first two stanzas, we read about a group of small children gathered around what I presume to be a manger scene of some sort. whatever the elder told them they believed. in their childish innocence, there was no reason to doubt what this older, presumably wiser man said: "nor did it occur to one of us there/to doubt". and rightly so. as children, we're taught to listen and learn. it isn't until we mature and age that we begin to question and doubt what we're told. while none of this maturing stage is shown in the any of the four stanzas, the last two reflect on the naïve nature of the speaker's (and everyone's) childhood, but with a nostalgic overtone. he says that if he were in that position again and told that at that very moment "they are all on their knees", that he hopes he could believe it might actually be so.

this hope is a nostalgic, longing-for-innocence-again sort of hope.
the whole tone of the poem sets this nostalgic tone.