My students in the medieval film class watched The Virgin Spring today; they nominated it for “the feel good film of the year.” I forgot to talk about Odin ahead of time, so they had no idea what the squawking raven presaged (or, for that matter, the guy with one eye and a cloak standing on the river bank, or the carved seat that Ingeri sits down on). But they were quiet as the proverbial mice all the way through which is unusual for them (and no, not sleeping). After the downbeat BBC version of the Pardoner’s Tale last week and now this, they say I’m depressing them. “I usually feel happy after this class,” one student complained.
My work is done.
Walking back to my office afterward, it was time as usual for the roosting of the crows. It’s that time of year. Dozens fill the trees surrounding our building, calling to one another, catching up on the latest gossip, complaining about the weather, I’m sure.