Irony

I’ve always had trouble with the word “irony.” In large part, I think this is due to the fact that as someone who studies literature and has to deal with the idea of irony as something writers create, I’m always nervous to use it in a real-world context. It just seems like too lofty an idea to use practically.

However, after reading Dictionary.com’s definitions of irony, I think I can safely say that it was ironic how Colleen and I scraped the snow off her car and drove forty-five minutes in the snow to Amherst college because their library was open until one, just to find that although I could view a movie I couldn’t remove it from the library. But I could order it on the interlibrary loan, which definitely didn’t help me with the final paper I have due tomorrow.

So, yes, it was ironic for me that the only place in town that was open and had The Commissar wouldn’t let me bring it home to watch it.

Because, you know, there’s been such a rush on 1960’s Soviet cinema lately.