I am now a post graduate student in English Literature in a London university. I am homeless living at my parents, have no money for the second year fees and haven’t studied literature since high school, but I’m in.
This all came about rather quick. I saw a screening of the National Theatre production of Frankenstein, my favourite novel. I saw it twice the second screening being in Kings College and I left so sad that I never went to uni. Don’t get me wrong, my degree in Theatre was brilliant like falling down the rabbit hole but I felt I never got to prove my intelligent and that real experience of University compared to a college.
My faculty is in a great art deco looking building with floors and lift buttons as confusing as Hogwarrs. I feel shy and uneducated yet strangely excited about being emmersed in texts.
The reading list includes The Bright Young Things, Woolfe and Carroll and H G Wells. My great escapism.