Tonight, I write from not my bed and not my home because I'm a'traveling! I'm down at my alma mater, presenting at an academic conference and spending a little time with a few of my peeps in the area. I gave my paper tonight about revision strategies--I thought it went pretty well and is definitely a project that I could develop more. (Best of all, I got in an academic spat with one of the other folks on the panel, but more about that later).
I was a little worried about my ability to maintain my unprocessed eating ways, but I packed acceptable foodstuffs from home, and I ran by the grocery store to pick up veggies and yogurt, whipping up a quick salad for dinner with avocado, butternut squash, carrots, and Greek yogurt. Pretty delicious and so very easy! After my quick bite, I headed to a mixer, where I drank a little red wine but shunned the various snacks (which were all extremely processed). I only kind of wanted it, so points for me!
Okay, back to the academic spat. I probably shouldn't go into too much detail, but I felt that one of the presenters gave a talk based on bad scholarship. I didn't really want to confront the presenter about it, but when others seemed to not see the major flaw, I had to say something. The assumptions and the claims were so baseless and completely drawn from very little data that I am flabbergasted that this person even functions in academia and is listened to. Given that the individual rolled eyes during my talk and made snide comments about the work I'm doing in my science writing class, I took a bit of pleasure in pointing out the flaws. In fact, I probably would have kept going except that the moderator diverted the attention to me, where the presenter than sulked off. I look forward to seeing this person at future conferences and continuing to publicly point out the flaws in the so-called research. (The person actually cited Google as a source. Seriously?)
Anyway, off to bed--I have another paper to read in the morning!
Showing posts with label academia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label academia. Show all posts
Friday, October 07, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Unstructured Time
You would think that I'd return to my regular writing schedule now that the semester is done (and has been done for a full month). You would think that, wouldn't you? Well, you'd be wrong.
I have a secret: I'm no good with unstructured time. I thrive on deadlines and regular meetings to keep me going. I would never do an online class because I wouldn't be able to work on it methodically and systematically--I'd either do it in big bursts or wait until the last minute.
This is a problem, however, for an aspiring academic. See, now (and in the future), I need to be able to work on my own projects/research/writing without someone setting deadlines for me. I need to be able to sit down and focus everyday on a given task and get it done. I think it's key to being successful in academia--and key to finishing my degree (and staying in my adviser's good graces).
With that in mind, I'm going to attempt to structure my own time and force myself to stick to some sort of schedule. The past couple of days I've been working on reading some scholarship and thinking about my Fall course, and tinkering with other tasks, but not in a structured, concentrated way. I hate feeling unproductive, but I'm having a hard time actually getting much done during my summer days.
Fellow academics, how did you train yourselves to be more disciplined and focus on tasks to be able to accomplish what you want to accomplish?
I have a secret: I'm no good with unstructured time. I thrive on deadlines and regular meetings to keep me going. I would never do an online class because I wouldn't be able to work on it methodically and systematically--I'd either do it in big bursts or wait until the last minute.
This is a problem, however, for an aspiring academic. See, now (and in the future), I need to be able to work on my own projects/research/writing without someone setting deadlines for me. I need to be able to sit down and focus everyday on a given task and get it done. I think it's key to being successful in academia--and key to finishing my degree (and staying in my adviser's good graces).
With that in mind, I'm going to attempt to structure my own time and force myself to stick to some sort of schedule. The past couple of days I've been working on reading some scholarship and thinking about my Fall course, and tinkering with other tasks, but not in a structured, concentrated way. I hate feeling unproductive, but I'm having a hard time actually getting much done during my summer days.
Fellow academics, how did you train yourselves to be more disciplined and focus on tasks to be able to accomplish what you want to accomplish?
Friday, November 07, 2008
Jenn's First Conference
My conferencing today has gone very well. I've met many intelligent, gracious scholars--I think this is a group (the EC/ASECS) that I would like to be associated with for a long time.
I have some thoughts about my first conference and realizing how I should present myself professionally (which is different, perhaps, from how I present myself normally). Also, about how as a young female academic, I've been treated not as a fellow scholar--by one or two older folks, anyway. (Mostly everyone else has listened to what I have to say, and I've been happily partaking of the intellectual atmosphere.) But I think I'll save those thoughts for when I don't have to stand at a public computer in the hotel lobby.
Oh, and for the knitter-readers: I bought some lovely yarn from Stitch DC. I felt as though a trip to a new place would not be complete unless I did a bit of yarn shopping. Yay for LYS!
I have some thoughts about my first conference and realizing how I should present myself professionally (which is different, perhaps, from how I present myself normally). Also, about how as a young female academic, I've been treated not as a fellow scholar--by one or two older folks, anyway. (Mostly everyone else has listened to what I have to say, and I've been happily partaking of the intellectual atmosphere.) But I think I'll save those thoughts for when I don't have to stand at a public computer in the hotel lobby.
Oh, and for the knitter-readers: I bought some lovely yarn from Stitch DC. I felt as though a trip to a new place would not be complete unless I did a bit of yarn shopping. Yay for LYS!
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Traveling to the East
Greetings, Dear Readers:
I have journeyed far to the East to a land called Washington, where our leaders gather and issue forth proclaimations. My mission is to attend a gathering of scholars who study the eighteenth-century: On Saturday, I shall myself lecture on Matthew Lewis' The Monk. It promises to be a thrilling adventure.
Today, I boarded a flying machine from the mountains of Arkansas, journeyed forth to the Deep South (Atlanta, y'all), and arrived in DC. I then wound my way through the maze of the public transit system. I found myself the object of a kind gentleman's charity: he gave me 35 cents so I could make my bus connection. Alas, his kindness went awry when the connection fee was in fact 45 cents. The bus driver took pity on my poor travelling soul, and allowed me to board anyway.
All was well, until I could not find the Inn. It turns out that Georgetown University Conference Center and Hotel is cunningly hidden, tucked into campus behind (a freakin') hospital. I arrived sore and sweaty from hauling my luggage. Ah, should a shining knight had resuced me! Alas, I must care for myself. And in the end, I much prefer to be independent, alone in a strange city and loving it.
Tonight, the conference opened with much lauded performances of poetry, music, and a staged production of Mr. Pope's "The Rape of the Lock". It was splendid, dear readers, splendid. Afterward, I conversed with many scholars, all of whom were kind and welcoming to me, the young academic setting forth for her first real conference.
It is now time for me to retire my soft quarters. Adieu, dear readers, adieu.
I have journeyed far to the East to a land called Washington, where our leaders gather and issue forth proclaimations. My mission is to attend a gathering of scholars who study the eighteenth-century: On Saturday, I shall myself lecture on Matthew Lewis' The Monk. It promises to be a thrilling adventure.
Today, I boarded a flying machine from the mountains of Arkansas, journeyed forth to the Deep South (Atlanta, y'all), and arrived in DC. I then wound my way through the maze of the public transit system. I found myself the object of a kind gentleman's charity: he gave me 35 cents so I could make my bus connection. Alas, his kindness went awry when the connection fee was in fact 45 cents. The bus driver took pity on my poor travelling soul, and allowed me to board anyway.
All was well, until I could not find the Inn. It turns out that Georgetown University Conference Center and Hotel is cunningly hidden, tucked into campus behind (a freakin') hospital. I arrived sore and sweaty from hauling my luggage. Ah, should a shining knight had resuced me! Alas, I must care for myself. And in the end, I much prefer to be independent, alone in a strange city and loving it.
Tonight, the conference opened with much lauded performances of poetry, music, and a staged production of Mr. Pope's "The Rape of the Lock". It was splendid, dear readers, splendid. Afterward, I conversed with many scholars, all of whom were kind and welcoming to me, the young academic setting forth for her first real conference.
It is now time for me to retire my soft quarters. Adieu, dear readers, adieu.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Note Spoilers
I don't like having endings spoiled for me. When I read a story, I want to savor it, to follow the dips and twists and turns, and finally come to that satisfying conclusion when everything is resolved. It's part of reading/hearing a story--or least a successful story.
However, apparently in academia, we no longer read for enjoyment. Frequently, endings are spoiled by well-meaning editors. The site of the crime? Footnotes and endnotes. These editors put in the notes with the good intention of explaining bits of the narrative that might get lost because of antiquated language or conventions that are lost.
However, occasionally editors have the urge to insert interpretive material in their notes. Sometimes that interpretive material gives away a major plot point. I'm barely a third through Cleland's Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, and now (because of a damned note), I think I know how it's going to end. I don't like having ends ruined, especially when I'm really getting into the story. Why do they assume that we read for information and not enjoyment? I may be studying this text for class, but I also enjoy reading a good story. And this is a good story*.
*With sex. Lots and lots of sex. In fact, this novel is also considered one of the most famous English erotic novels. For all the pornography, it also has a good story. More about this later.
However, apparently in academia, we no longer read for enjoyment. Frequently, endings are spoiled by well-meaning editors. The site of the crime? Footnotes and endnotes. These editors put in the notes with the good intention of explaining bits of the narrative that might get lost because of antiquated language or conventions that are lost.
However, occasionally editors have the urge to insert interpretive material in their notes. Sometimes that interpretive material gives away a major plot point. I'm barely a third through Cleland's Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, and now (because of a damned note), I think I know how it's going to end. I don't like having ends ruined, especially when I'm really getting into the story. Why do they assume that we read for information and not enjoyment? I may be studying this text for class, but I also enjoy reading a good story. And this is a good story*.
*With sex. Lots and lots of sex. In fact, this novel is also considered one of the most famous English erotic novels. For all the pornography, it also has a good story. More about this later.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Interpretation and Authorial Intent
Breaking news* in the literary world! A letter from Edith Wharton has been discovered that could alter how critics interpret the end of The House of Mirth!
Okay, so it's really only exciting to me (and other English-types), but it is a situation which makes me think of some of the issues we've discussed in Intro to Grad Studies. How much to we allow authorial intent to influence interpretation? Do we prescribe to the theory of the intentional fallacy (which means you ignore authorial intent), or do we try to figure out as closely as possible what the author wanted? And what role do letters and journals play into the editing/interpretive process?
As a critic, I want to take a more moderate approach. A work will always have plausible interpretations which we can never possibly validate according to authorial intention. Most of the works we discuss are written by those long gone. We can't dig up Shakespeare and ask him which version of Hamlet was the one he intended, so we have to muddle through it the best we can with the evidence we have.
To a certain degree authorial intent should influence how we interpret a work. For example, if an author created a female character, we can't really say that character is a man. If a character loves a woman, we can't argue that it's really a man--unless the woman turns out to be a man in drag. It just wouldn't make sense. There were times in my Intro to Grad Studies paper that I disagreed with a critic's interpretation because it didn't make sense in the text--they were reading what they wanted into the text**.
By the same regard, all we do have is the text. We can't necessarily postulate "what ifs" about it--we have to work with what is there. Which makes introducing letters, journals, etc into the interpretive process: we start moving into murky waters. Wharton's letter is certainly interesting, but should it change how we interpret the end of The House of Mirth? I'm not so sure--perhaps Wharton wanted it to be ambiguous when she reached that point in the novel's composition, but the letter reflected a phase where she was more certain about the character's fate. Plus, it just seems so much more cool for the ending to be ambiguous***. One reason I like Margaret Atwood is that her endings are often ambiguous, straddling the gap between dystopia and hope (The Handmaid's Tale, Oryx and Crake).
An author doesn't necessarily always have a final interpretation in mind. Most of our best literature is the stuff that leaves the reader with lingering questions, leaves us wondering how we should view the literature and the ideas. Those questions can be the spark of some great conversations, great articles, and great literary debates.
*So for two days in a row, my posts have been inspired by the NY Times. I'm okay with that--I hope you, my dear readers, are as well!
**This leads to my hatred of a good chunk of feminist and gender study criticism. No, Fitzgerald, you cannot argue that Theodore in The Monk is actually Agnes in drag. It's unsupported by the text and all we have is the text.
***Ambiguity is what we often base our publications on. If there's uncertainty, we can argue forever about it!
Okay, so it's really only exciting to me (and other English-types), but it is a situation which makes me think of some of the issues we've discussed in Intro to Grad Studies. How much to we allow authorial intent to influence interpretation? Do we prescribe to the theory of the intentional fallacy (which means you ignore authorial intent), or do we try to figure out as closely as possible what the author wanted? And what role do letters and journals play into the editing/interpretive process?
As a critic, I want to take a more moderate approach. A work will always have plausible interpretations which we can never possibly validate according to authorial intention. Most of the works we discuss are written by those long gone. We can't dig up Shakespeare and ask him which version of Hamlet was the one he intended, so we have to muddle through it the best we can with the evidence we have.
To a certain degree authorial intent should influence how we interpret a work. For example, if an author created a female character, we can't really say that character is a man. If a character loves a woman, we can't argue that it's really a man--unless the woman turns out to be a man in drag. It just wouldn't make sense. There were times in my Intro to Grad Studies paper that I disagreed with a critic's interpretation because it didn't make sense in the text--they were reading what they wanted into the text**.
By the same regard, all we do have is the text. We can't necessarily postulate "what ifs" about it--we have to work with what is there. Which makes introducing letters, journals, etc into the interpretive process: we start moving into murky waters. Wharton's letter is certainly interesting, but should it change how we interpret the end of The House of Mirth? I'm not so sure--perhaps Wharton wanted it to be ambiguous when she reached that point in the novel's composition, but the letter reflected a phase where she was more certain about the character's fate. Plus, it just seems so much more cool for the ending to be ambiguous***. One reason I like Margaret Atwood is that her endings are often ambiguous, straddling the gap between dystopia and hope (The Handmaid's Tale, Oryx and Crake).
An author doesn't necessarily always have a final interpretation in mind. Most of our best literature is the stuff that leaves the reader with lingering questions, leaves us wondering how we should view the literature and the ideas. Those questions can be the spark of some great conversations, great articles, and great literary debates.
*So for two days in a row, my posts have been inspired by the NY Times. I'm okay with that--I hope you, my dear readers, are as well!
**This leads to my hatred of a good chunk of feminist and gender study criticism. No, Fitzgerald, you cannot argue that Theodore in The Monk is actually Agnes in drag. It's unsupported by the text and all we have is the text.
***Ambiguity is what we often base our publications on. If there's uncertainty, we can argue forever about it!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Where's the Tenure-Track?
While reading the NY Times this morning, I ran across an article about tenure. As an aspiring PhD student and hopeful professor, I find myself thinking about things like tenure a lot. However, the number of tenured or tenure-track faculty are decreasing. I don't know if it's because they are going off of percentages, but the general trend is to hire adjunct faculty because they're cheaper than tenured professors.
The tenure system was created to keep professors from being fired for political views, religious beliefs, personal ideology, etc. I personally think the system is in serious need of overhaul--we still need to try to maintain the "independent" nature of academia without making it quite so difficult to get into the tenure club. Tenure can also saddle a university with professors that aren't good teachers; however, the university can't get rid of them because they have tenure.
The whole tenure process makes me nervous. If I want to be in academia, my best (and best paying) option is to pursue tenure. It's a difficult process from all accounts, with lots of pressures. The pressure to publish is currently one that I want to overcome.
It is comforting to know that more universities are realizing that overextended adjuncts are not going to make the best teachers. They are increasing their number of tenured and tenure-track faculty, realizing that it makes a difference on the success of students--there is a correlation between student retention and who teaches them. The article didn't really address the plight of adjuncts, however.
Adjuncts often work at several universities, teaching more than a full load of classes, to make ends meet. It's difficult for an adjunct to live comfortably off of what they can make working part-time, so they do what they need to make ends meet--which means more teaching and less time to spend with students. I think there needs to be a system to support adjuncts, especially since higher education is depending on them increasingly to teach classes.
It's really interesting to read about issues in higher education and realize that those issues will someday affect me--or have already.
The tenure system was created to keep professors from being fired for political views, religious beliefs, personal ideology, etc. I personally think the system is in serious need of overhaul--we still need to try to maintain the "independent" nature of academia without making it quite so difficult to get into the tenure club. Tenure can also saddle a university with professors that aren't good teachers; however, the university can't get rid of them because they have tenure.
The whole tenure process makes me nervous. If I want to be in academia, my best (and best paying) option is to pursue tenure. It's a difficult process from all accounts, with lots of pressures. The pressure to publish is currently one that I want to overcome.
It is comforting to know that more universities are realizing that overextended adjuncts are not going to make the best teachers. They are increasing their number of tenured and tenure-track faculty, realizing that it makes a difference on the success of students--there is a correlation between student retention and who teaches them. The article didn't really address the plight of adjuncts, however.
Adjuncts often work at several universities, teaching more than a full load of classes, to make ends meet. It's difficult for an adjunct to live comfortably off of what they can make working part-time, so they do what they need to make ends meet--which means more teaching and less time to spend with students. I think there needs to be a system to support adjuncts, especially since higher education is depending on them increasingly to teach classes.
It's really interesting to read about issues in higher education and realize that those issues will someday affect me--or have already.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Academic Imersion
I joined MLA today. (Yay for student rates). Joining MLA gives me a subscription to PMLA and several other publications, and allows me to be connected to a national organization. I joined on the impulse of professionalism that I've been cultivating as of late.
My Intro to Grad Studies class must be influencing me. We're immersing ourselves into aspects of the profession (as did the class that I took last semester), and it's got me thinking about steps I can take now to help my future career.
We're going to be giving a mini-conference on the paper that just won't go away, and next week we'll be discussing how we wish to present ourselves to the public eye. When I decided to go to grad school, I had no idea that there'd be so much involved! In the end, however, I like it.
I'll probably join NCTE soon too, and subscribe to College English, since there are sure to be articles I would find useful for my thesis! Yay again for student rates...
My Intro to Grad Studies class must be influencing me. We're immersing ourselves into aspects of the profession (as did the class that I took last semester), and it's got me thinking about steps I can take now to help my future career.
We're going to be giving a mini-conference on the paper that just won't go away, and next week we'll be discussing how we wish to present ourselves to the public eye. When I decided to go to grad school, I had no idea that there'd be so much involved! In the end, however, I like it.
I'll probably join NCTE soon too, and subscribe to College English, since there are sure to be articles I would find useful for my thesis! Yay again for student rates...
Monday, November 05, 2007
Body and Brain
The dumb jock, the unathletic geek: we usually assume that being good at sports and being smart are mutually exclusive. Why is this? Is it because we think of the highly intelligent hiding in their ivory towers, descending rarely to mix among us mortals (and get a breath of fresh air)? Do we think that those who enjoy physical pursuits don't have to use their minds--or don't have the inclination to do so?
This connection is one that I've been thinking about for a while. About three years ago, I started running, playing Ultimate Frisbee, and enjoying all sorts of sports. Recently, I've been taking swimming lessons. I enjoy physical activity. I also enjoy reading, writing, and thinking.
I'm planning to be an academic, something which (shockingly) doesn't require physical abilities. Part of me occasionally longs to find a occupation where I'd use both my body and my mind.
The connection between our physical and mental abilities is subtler than one might think. My mind doesn't shut down when I start running: no, instead it becomes more active. My mind is always more alert (and my body more energetic) when I'm working out regularly. When my body is healthy, my mind is sharper.
So why does our culture persist with the separation of mind and body? I think part of it is that we do like simple dualities--they make life easier. And I do admit that I know some really dumb people who are great athletes and some really smart individuals who suck at anything athletic. But I also know a lot more people who are both successful athletes (or have physical abilities) and intelligent, capable individuals.
Personally, I'm cultivating a life of the mind and greater physical abilities. I think that understanding the connection is deeply important to my own success and well-being.
This connection is one that I've been thinking about for a while. About three years ago, I started running, playing Ultimate Frisbee, and enjoying all sorts of sports. Recently, I've been taking swimming lessons. I enjoy physical activity. I also enjoy reading, writing, and thinking.
I'm planning to be an academic, something which (shockingly) doesn't require physical abilities. Part of me occasionally longs to find a occupation where I'd use both my body and my mind.
The connection between our physical and mental abilities is subtler than one might think. My mind doesn't shut down when I start running: no, instead it becomes more active. My mind is always more alert (and my body more energetic) when I'm working out regularly. When my body is healthy, my mind is sharper.
So why does our culture persist with the separation of mind and body? I think part of it is that we do like simple dualities--they make life easier. And I do admit that I know some really dumb people who are great athletes and some really smart individuals who suck at anything athletic. But I also know a lot more people who are both successful athletes (or have physical abilities) and intelligent, capable individuals.
Personally, I'm cultivating a life of the mind and greater physical abilities. I think that understanding the connection is deeply important to my own success and well-being.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
English Arguments
In class on Thursday night, I had to wrinkle my nose as another student (PhD, for that matter) described The Confidence Man as "literary masturbation". The book is difficult and confusing, but I hardly think that term applies to it--Melville's purpose is reasonably clear to a perceptive reader, and he employs devices that achieve that purpose. But mostly I objected to that phrase because something about it strikes me as pretentious and dull, the sort of thing you'd say if you wanted to sound smart but had nothing of meaning to contribute.
Perhaps I'm a bit harsh, but certain phrases and ways of speaking annoy me. As does certain ways of writing, like that of the brilliant-but-terrible-to-read Fredric Jameson. I later argued with the same classmate about what makes good writing: she asserted that Jameson was "wonderful", while I rolled my eyes and said that he had good ideas, but was an awful writer. I personally despise academic writing that is obscure for obscurity's sake, instead of merely dealing with the material as clearly and concisely as possible.
(Perhaps I hate it because I find myself adopting academic-speak, but I still dislike it strongly.)
She argued that it was just how we were supposed to write--the establishment would deny any attempts to write in a "low-brow" way. We're expected to adopt the "high-brow" academic discourse, even if we could be clearer (and better) in our papers. I thought this was bullshit.
Terry Eagleton argues against obscure, empty writing in After Theory. Several other great prose stylists can write engagingly while dealing with difficult material. Why does academic writing have to be so awful sometimes? We study some of the best writing in the world, and yet our own writing is muck meant to mire an unsuspecting reader in jargon, obscurity, and incomprehensibility?
I hope I can be a good writer and show insight into my material. I want to write articles that are both informative and enjoyable to read. It's going to be a long process, but perhaps I'll get there in the end.
Perhaps I'm a bit harsh, but certain phrases and ways of speaking annoy me. As does certain ways of writing, like that of the brilliant-but-terrible-to-read Fredric Jameson. I later argued with the same classmate about what makes good writing: she asserted that Jameson was "wonderful", while I rolled my eyes and said that he had good ideas, but was an awful writer. I personally despise academic writing that is obscure for obscurity's sake, instead of merely dealing with the material as clearly and concisely as possible.
(Perhaps I hate it because I find myself adopting academic-speak, but I still dislike it strongly.)
She argued that it was just how we were supposed to write--the establishment would deny any attempts to write in a "low-brow" way. We're expected to adopt the "high-brow" academic discourse, even if we could be clearer (and better) in our papers. I thought this was bullshit.
Terry Eagleton argues against obscure, empty writing in After Theory. Several other great prose stylists can write engagingly while dealing with difficult material. Why does academic writing have to be so awful sometimes? We study some of the best writing in the world, and yet our own writing is muck meant to mire an unsuspecting reader in jargon, obscurity, and incomprehensibility?
I hope I can be a good writer and show insight into my material. I want to write articles that are both informative and enjoyable to read. It's going to be a long process, but perhaps I'll get there in the end.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Renewed Reading
As I was finishing up a reading packet for class tomorrow, I found myself struck by the absolute beauty of some of the sentences. We had three short readings, one of which ("The Philosophy of Composition by Richard Atlick and/or John Fenstermaker) was about good academic writing, and the other two concerned themselves with the literary "Canon Wars".
All three pieces were marvelously written, and often funny--Atlick/Fenstermaker used his footnotes to make funny jokes with an important point about the use of footnotes. I kept laughing the further I got through the piece--I'm sure Lance and his parents would have thought I was silly for enjoying a scholarly article so much. (Just as he laughs at me for adoring The Elements of Style).
It was in the last piece, (Katha Pollitt--"Canon to the Right of Me") when I discovered that I was highlighting a sentence just because it was such a well-crafted bit of wordsmithing that I remembered why I'm in graduate school in the first place--to read lovely bits of writing (poetical, fictional, or scholarly) and to admire that beauty and attempt to be like them. Spending part of last semester with Jameson didn't help, since his writing lacks the grace and elegance of more reader-friendly writers.
I'm glad that I am being told to leave behind the purposefully obscure, horrible pieces of writing. Even if I have to study them, I can mock their terrible writing and strive to be an academic that can pride herself on the quality of her craft. I would like others to read what I write and feel that sheer enjoyment of the well-written sentence, as well as learn something interesting. Those academics who feel the need to be obtuse are idiots. No one will ever appreciate their prose style, and fewer will understand their perhaps brilliant points than if they had chosen to write like Terry Eagleton or Jerome McGann.
It does me good to be reminded every now and then that I'm not going into English to study and learn more about literature--I'm going into it because I love the written word, and I love the beauty and power of well-used words.
All three pieces were marvelously written, and often funny--Atlick/Fenstermaker used his footnotes to make funny jokes with an important point about the use of footnotes. I kept laughing the further I got through the piece--I'm sure Lance and his parents would have thought I was silly for enjoying a scholarly article so much. (Just as he laughs at me for adoring The Elements of Style).
It was in the last piece, (Katha Pollitt--"Canon to the Right of Me") when I discovered that I was highlighting a sentence just because it was such a well-crafted bit of wordsmithing that I remembered why I'm in graduate school in the first place--to read lovely bits of writing (poetical, fictional, or scholarly) and to admire that beauty and attempt to be like them. Spending part of last semester with Jameson didn't help, since his writing lacks the grace and elegance of more reader-friendly writers.
I'm glad that I am being told to leave behind the purposefully obscure, horrible pieces of writing. Even if I have to study them, I can mock their terrible writing and strive to be an academic that can pride herself on the quality of her craft. I would like others to read what I write and feel that sheer enjoyment of the well-written sentence, as well as learn something interesting. Those academics who feel the need to be obtuse are idiots. No one will ever appreciate their prose style, and fewer will understand their perhaps brilliant points than if they had chosen to write like Terry Eagleton or Jerome McGann.
It does me good to be reminded every now and then that I'm not going into English to study and learn more about literature--I'm going into it because I love the written word, and I love the beauty and power of well-used words.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Academia-Created Skeptic?
I would not generally call myself a skeptic. I tend to believe in concepts and embrace ideas easily, if they appeal to something in my head and my heart.
However, as I was telling Lance yesterday, the more I read, the more skeptical I get of certain trends. The biggest one is the tendency of dividing the world neatly into two halves: good/bad, right/wrong, black/white, etc. This dichotomous labeling of the world makes me nervous and makes me skeptical of anything related to it.
This skepticism is directly related to my growth and development as an academic. In literature especially, the interesting questions are not in dividing the work into neat labeled pieces; the "good stuff", the most intriguing ideas reside in the bits of a novel or poem where ideas are messy, mixed up, and a little uncertain. Milton's Satan isn't interesting because he is purely evil against God's purely goodness. He's interesting because he's a fallen creature, a tragic hero; he's someone the reader can sympathize with even while we are supposed to be loathing him. That's more interesting than a Satan who is so positively evil that his character only elicits hatred from the reader instead of sympathy.
I think this suspicion of pure dichotomies is why I stopped believing in God as my parents do, or practicing their brand of Christianity. At the risk of sounding heretical, I don't think good and evil can be so neatly divided, nor can be people be lumped easily into groups. The world should not be filled with people who are either moral or immoral, going to heaven or going to hell, devils or saints. The world is full of both beauty and pain, in all its messy gloriousness. And that messiness, that inability to be easily classifiable is what makes life so interesting, and the pursuit of the divine and spiritual so meaningful.
I was reading The Slacktivist's weekly exploration of really crappy literature, and his snide comment about the evangelical's negative, anti-intellectual attitude really made me laugh:
However, as I was telling Lance yesterday, the more I read, the more skeptical I get of certain trends. The biggest one is the tendency of dividing the world neatly into two halves: good/bad, right/wrong, black/white, etc. This dichotomous labeling of the world makes me nervous and makes me skeptical of anything related to it.
This skepticism is directly related to my growth and development as an academic. In literature especially, the interesting questions are not in dividing the work into neat labeled pieces; the "good stuff", the most intriguing ideas reside in the bits of a novel or poem where ideas are messy, mixed up, and a little uncertain. Milton's Satan isn't interesting because he is purely evil against God's purely goodness. He's interesting because he's a fallen creature, a tragic hero; he's someone the reader can sympathize with even while we are supposed to be loathing him. That's more interesting than a Satan who is so positively evil that his character only elicits hatred from the reader instead of sympathy.
I think this suspicion of pure dichotomies is why I stopped believing in God as my parents do, or practicing their brand of Christianity. At the risk of sounding heretical, I don't think good and evil can be so neatly divided, nor can be people be lumped easily into groups. The world should not be filled with people who are either moral or immoral, going to heaven or going to hell, devils or saints. The world is full of both beauty and pain, in all its messy gloriousness. And that messiness, that inability to be easily classifiable is what makes life so interesting, and the pursuit of the divine and spiritual so meaningful.
I was reading The Slacktivist's weekly exploration of really crappy literature, and his snide comment about the evangelical's negative, anti-intellectual attitude really made me laugh:
That last sentence is again, the major theme of the LB series: You may think you're intelligent and educated, but you're a fool if you don't realize that Tim LaHaye's "biblical" prophecies are the Most Important Thing Ever. You'll see. You're all like, "Oh, la-di-da, I'm an intellectual and I think the Bible is all about like, loving the Lord your God and loving your neighbor as yourself," when you should be all like, "Tell me, Rev. LaHaye, sir, do you perhaps have some study tools for sale that might help me to prepare for the coming apocalypse, the coded foretelling of which is the primary purpose of scripture?" Your failure to appreciate my genius will be punished. You just wait.His post today got me to thinking about the simplistic interpretations of both the world and the not-so-neatly-interpretable-Bible. Too easy, folks. Maybe that's why Bush scares me so much with all his talk of our "evil" enemies, and Americans as the knights in shining white, ridding the world of this evil. I think there's as much that could be labeled such in our own country that we could focus on righting, were we not so busy pointing our fingers at the Jews, the Muslims, or those damned intellectuals.
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