Summer has the wonderful benefit of finally having enough free time to do anything but school, and for some, reading is a preferred method of choice. Short stories in particular have the added benefit of being quick and easy to read, at least relatively. While many people opt for fiction as a way of getting lost in a fascinating world of literature, nonfiction writing has its place, too.
Four years ago, over the summer, my English class was given the assignment of reading this collection of "creative nonfiction" short stories titled In Fact. Real stories, real people, with bits of artistic license sprinkled in. Reflecting on the past few years and all of the people I've met, and figuring out who I am as I approach college graduation, one particular essay stands out to me.
According to Greek mythology, a Chimera is a "a monstrous fire-breathing hybrid creature . . . composed of the parts of more than one animal." In his short story "Chimera," Gerald N. Callahan explains that, metaphorically, we're all Chimeras. We meet new people who influence our lives, changing the way we think and act. These people become important to us, they become part of our lives, part of ourselves. We borrow people's stuff, we start listening to bands that our friends like, we share ideas and thoughts and build upon that.
But then he goes on to explain that we are literally Chimeras, too. We breathe in particles that our friends have breathed out, we accumulate bits and part of others, in microscopic amounts. It could be anything from skin cells from a hug or collecting books that a friend gives you, sharing drinks, a kiss, all of these little things. You're a whole chimera, a blend of friends and acquaintances and passersby.
After the loss of his wife, Callahan noticed a woman who frequented the same coffee shop that he did. Even though she doesn't look the same, his mind—the part of his chimeral brain that contains his wife—projects his wife onto this woman, and even though she's gone, it's almost like she is still there.
“Somewhere inside of me there is a woman. But where she lives and who it was that led her into that pastry shop last Thursday, I’ve no way of knowing. For one part of me, that ignorance is a gnawing blindness. For another part of me, it is enough to simply know for certain that I will see her again.”
As us young college students move through life, we will continue to grow as individuals, but still pick up pieces of others along the way. Even if you never see your study buddy from you freshman math class again, or if you continue to be best friends with your roommates for the years to come, you're still a chimera assimilating people, creating that beautiful monster that is you.
