I should preface this post with the fact that I am a Victorianist by training and inclination, and I'm a mid to late Victorianist, at that. I am interested in the late eighteenth-century, but my knowledge there is largely self taught.
I watched the first part of the mini-series John Adams; I admit the dissertation got in the way during the last part. The series itself came at one of those odd moments in my own reading where there was a monumental time period overlap. I finished Antonia Fraser's biography on Marie Antoinette over Christmas, and I've been reading Amanda Foreman's biography on Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire. I also read Linda Colley's The Britons, all of which covers roughly the same time period. While I've liked what I've seen of the mini-series, I think Jack Rakove is right in his assessment that John Adams is a more complex character than the series, and particularly David McCullough's biography, presents.
Beyond that, I have a problem/quibble with the misunderstanding of the dynamics behind England's actions towards the colonies. I concede that a declaration of independence was inevitable given the policies of King George III, and more to the point, Lord North, the PM at the time. My problem is with Rakove is his, and it isn't just Rakove here, misunderstanding of representation in Parliament and how MP's were elected to the House of Commons. King George III didn't have the kind of separate power to grant the colonies representation; the power lay with Parliament by the late eighteenth century. Parliament was unprepared and disinclined to increase the franchise in the 1770s. What the colonists were asking for was impossible in the mid-1770s. The government couldn't give the colonies representation without granting more representation to citizens living in Great Britain. There wasn't a major reform of election law until the First Reform Bill of 1832, which did enfranchise most of the middle-classes in Great Britain. It's a small quibble, I admit, but one that irks me nonetheless.
I do highly recommend Colley's book. Besides being a fascinating analysis of how Great Britain became Great Britain, Colley is a wry and humorous writer. I got stuck in an airport for several hours, and I found myself laughing out loud in the waiting area while reading her work.
21 April 2008
politics: young folks
I keep hearing from, admittedly, long-time, savvy political analysts that the younger voters who have come out in droves during this primary season just won't show up in November. Two points. One, if they've bothered to come out during a primary, most of which have arcane rules, then why wouldn't young folks vote in November when the process is infinitely simpler? Two, I work with this section of the electorate. From my experience, they tend to be responsible and civic minded. Perhaps political analysts need some time away from polling data and their fellow pundits. They can craft authority about young folks (and yes, I'm deliberately evoking the song of the same name). It would be more useful than the horse race coverage we're now engaged in.
19 April 2008
blogging: josh marshall and sam
18 April 2008
politics: debate shenanigans, update
My theory, I think, is correct.
Zap2it's article on the Wednesday night ratings is here.
American Idol trounced at the 8 o'clock hour, and CBS edged out the debate at that time period too. In other words, people saw the gotcha moments and then turned to other stations by the time the debate got to issues.
Zap2it's article on the Wednesday night ratings is here.
American Idol trounced at the 8 o'clock hour, and CBS edged out the debate at that time period too. In other words, people saw the gotcha moments and then turned to other stations by the time the debate got to issues.
17 April 2008
politics: debate shenanigans
I was deliberately avoiding the debate last night. I had spent the day grading papers and discussing the nature of absurd humor in my classes. I'd also watched Death at a Funeral the night before, so I could tell one of my students if it would work for her paper. It does and it's awful. I just didn't want to deal with anything absurd. So, I went by the bookstore on my way home and spent a gift card. Since I was driving from Fort Worth, I managed to get home 45 minutes into the thing. My brother was cleaning and mad. Mad, mad, mad. He was outraged at how Charlie Gibson and George Stephanopolus were conducting the debate. Me, I was trying to find something to watch that wasn't a reality show. Then it hit me, as my brother came and told me around 8 CT that they had finally turned to policy-esque issues, ABC had deliberately front loaded the debate with the "silly" season questions because at 8 the debate was up against American Idol. I haven't found the ratings for last night yet, but I suspect there was a shift to Fox at 8.
15 April 2008
politics: process, process, yuck
The West Wing is one of my favorite shows, particularly seasons 1-3. There's one point where Leo says the one things you don't want the public to see is how you makes laws and sausages. I would add that you don't want the public to see how Democrats nominate a presidential candidate. Yikes. I've been following the race closely, and I've thought all along that we've all needed a degree in political science, a thorough understanding of Hobbes, and night vision goggles and a pick axe to figure out what the heck is going on. Of course, I live in TX which had that weird primary precinct convention system that had political experts openly weeping. At any rate, I'm officially done. I can't stand the navel gazing anymore. It's nauseating at the point. I just want a nominee. There's a point where you just have to accept that the process is done even if you don't get to everything.
14 April 2008
tv: lost and static characters
James Poniewozik's blog, Tuned In, at Time. com, had a discussion thread about Lost last week. Since I was trying to put my diss defense together, I didn't have time to comment, but it has been niggling away at the back of my mind all weekend. Poniewozik asked about the character relationships on the show, since "The character aspects of the show, on the other hand, tend to get short shrift if not out-and-out derided, especially the relationships and pairings among the characters." The comments were thoughtful--I especially liked the Star Wars connection--but I was particularly struck by the amount of distaste for the character of Kate. I've always liked the character, and Evangline Lilly's performance. I do see why people are frustrated with the character, however. Kate is a round, well-developed static character. I think she has the potential to become a dynamic character, but the thing about Lost is that most of the characters are static. I don't mean that they are not well-developed, but these are characters that are not necessarily going to grow and change over time. In fact, I would say growing as a character is a sure fire way to end up dead on the creepy little island our Lost survivors inhabit. Shannon's change being the most notable, but I think Jin's movement into the warm, loving husband is the reason why he doesn't make it off the island. Don't know if he's dead or not, his tombstone notwithstanding, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the Oceanic 6 are the characters who have somehow not done enough growing, which is why they have to go back.
The other issue is Lost's serial pacing. Even though every episode is a dense, textually rich narrative, the overall pace of the show is slow. We've only moved forward a certain number of days. I forget how many, but well under the 100 day mark. The pacing of the show prevents a certain amount of character dynamism as well. The show has to balance this central tension between pacing and characterization.
I think the fact that Kate frustrates speaks to the potential she has to grow, but it is also a byproduct of this slower serial pace. Just as Meredith Grey in Grey's Anatomy has an enormous potential to grow, the show's pace prevents it from happening in a rapid fashion. (It's also a soap opera, which inherently resists dynamic characters.) In Grey's Anatomy's case, however, the show does not always make clear just how slow time moves. It took the show three seasons to cover one year's time in the life of the characters, but I think a viewer could have reasonably thought more time had passed because there are so few markers of that time moving. Again, not enough time for the characters to be dynamic in the ways viewers want or expect. But, Lost always reminds us how long we've been on the island, which helps me at least be less frustrated when Kate makes the same flight / survive mistake over and over again. I know she ends up changing; she cannot take on the responsibility of Aaron without becoming dynamic, but I think we have a ways to go before Kate's ready to grow. I also think Jack's need to go back to the island comes out of him becoming dynamic. He has to save himself before he can go back to saving others in a weird circular way, but that's a different topic.
The other issue is Lost's serial pacing. Even though every episode is a dense, textually rich narrative, the overall pace of the show is slow. We've only moved forward a certain number of days. I forget how many, but well under the 100 day mark. The pacing of the show prevents a certain amount of character dynamism as well. The show has to balance this central tension between pacing and characterization.
I think the fact that Kate frustrates speaks to the potential she has to grow, but it is also a byproduct of this slower serial pace. Just as Meredith Grey in Grey's Anatomy has an enormous potential to grow, the show's pace prevents it from happening in a rapid fashion. (It's also a soap opera, which inherently resists dynamic characters.) In Grey's Anatomy's case, however, the show does not always make clear just how slow time moves. It took the show three seasons to cover one year's time in the life of the characters, but I think a viewer could have reasonably thought more time had passed because there are so few markers of that time moving. Again, not enough time for the characters to be dynamic in the ways viewers want or expect. But, Lost always reminds us how long we've been on the island, which helps me at least be less frustrated when Kate makes the same flight / survive mistake over and over again. I know she ends up changing; she cannot take on the responsibility of Aaron without becoming dynamic, but I think we have a ways to go before Kate's ready to grow. I also think Jack's need to go back to the island comes out of him becoming dynamic. He has to save himself before he can go back to saving others in a weird circular way, but that's a different topic.
writing and culture: stuff white people like
I like the blog stuff white people like. The blog itself kind of fits the mode that it discusses. White people like blogs because they (blogs) are a little elitist and egalitarian. There is a whole argument made by oddityodyssey about how this blog is perpetuating white culture as the dominate culture or actually doing a service by identifying white culture. I do think the blog is narrowly liberal, college educated, and East/West Coast white culture; most of the white people who went to my small town Texas undergraduate would not recognize many of the posts on the blog as part of their experience of white culture. But, as a Dallas girl who actively resists being granola (a conscious decision upon my part) I find I a) do like some of the stuff the blog discusses and b) feel a little uncomfortable about it as I read the blog. I assuming that feeling a little uncomfortable is supposed to be the reaction. At any rate, all of this to say, the people who run the blog are putting out a book.
10 April 2008
knitting: forgetting things
Knitting is something I taught myself. My great grandmother apparently used to earn extra money knitting for Dillards in Little Rock, and family lore has it she refused to give it up after she broke her wrist and the doctor told her she would probably never have full use of her hand again. She would knit, with tears streaming down her face, in defiance of medical science. It apparently worked as a kind of home grown physical therapy because she need regain the full use of the wrist. At any rate, knitting is in my genes. So, I was flummoxed the other day when I sat down to begin a baby hat for a new dad in my department and I had totally forgotten how to do a picot edge. It's a lacey kind of edge, and this pattern calls for a cable cast-on versus a long-tail cast on. I finally re-learned it, but I've never totally forgotten how to do a certain kind of stitch or pattern before. I even taught myself how to do short rows for the world's most complicated baby cardigan (darn Vogue patterns). So, I'm blaming this one on the dissertation.
08 April 2008
music and writing: the soundtrack of writing
I have a meta statement of this blog's purpose brewing, but it's kind of on the back burner until I defend my dissertation on Friday. Yes, I do realize starting a blog while finishing my dissertation is absurd, but the larger idea for the blog just stuck with me. So a small statement of purpose: this blog is about the ways we come to knowledge. How do we make knowledge? How do we go about learning things that we want to learn like how to bake or knit or sail or change out air filters? Basically, I'm interested in the process of self education inside and outside the academy.
At the moment, I'm listening to Handel's Messiah while writing or trying to finish writing my dissertation defense. Obviously, I am also procrastinating. I find Handel both energizing and soothing. I don't normally write to his music, but I tend to think of this PhD process in terms of music. A slight detour before I explain why I think of the process of an English degree in terms of music. I used to sing for my church choir until the dissertation became my life. I'm an alto, which is the part composers either love or hate. I often find myself singing awfully boring percussion kinds of lines. I've decided Gabriel Faure must have been dating an alto because his Requiem has one of the most beautiful alto parts. Handel also tends to write great alto and contra-alto parts. What I love about Handel is the way everything is intertwined in the larger choral parts. The recitatives aren't as complex or as beautiful, particularly the bass parts, for some reason. In the choral sections, the melody bounces between the singers. It's never stationary. Singing Handel is an intense process of concentration. You have to hear all the other parts in order to understand where your part fits, but you also have to be able shut those other parts out so that you can sing your part without muddling it with the others. Back to why music and dissertation writing go together: I find the points in the process where you are tested be it exams or turning in the whole dissertation or defending to be akin to a choral performance. There's performance anxiety, but there's a certain pleasure in knowing you're about to knock an audience's socks off. And there's an even deeper personal pleasure in just the process of singing. When my church choir did Faure's Requiem, the second to last movement is joyous with a beautiful baritone solo. That solo always makes me smile, and being part of the choir singing that piece was uplifting. In academia and I imagine other jobs that require substantially less navel gazing, it's easy to feel disconnected. Thinking of the whole process as joining a larger voice makes it less lonely but also gives the work purpose.
At the moment, I'm listening to Handel's Messiah while writing or trying to finish writing my dissertation defense. Obviously, I am also procrastinating. I find Handel both energizing and soothing. I don't normally write to his music, but I tend to think of this PhD process in terms of music. A slight detour before I explain why I think of the process of an English degree in terms of music. I used to sing for my church choir until the dissertation became my life. I'm an alto, which is the part composers either love or hate. I often find myself singing awfully boring percussion kinds of lines. I've decided Gabriel Faure must have been dating an alto because his Requiem has one of the most beautiful alto parts. Handel also tends to write great alto and contra-alto parts. What I love about Handel is the way everything is intertwined in the larger choral parts. The recitatives aren't as complex or as beautiful, particularly the bass parts, for some reason. In the choral sections, the melody bounces between the singers. It's never stationary. Singing Handel is an intense process of concentration. You have to hear all the other parts in order to understand where your part fits, but you also have to be able shut those other parts out so that you can sing your part without muddling it with the others. Back to why music and dissertation writing go together: I find the points in the process where you are tested be it exams or turning in the whole dissertation or defending to be akin to a choral performance. There's performance anxiety, but there's a certain pleasure in knowing you're about to knock an audience's socks off. And there's an even deeper personal pleasure in just the process of singing. When my church choir did Faure's Requiem, the second to last movement is joyous with a beautiful baritone solo. That solo always makes me smile, and being part of the choir singing that piece was uplifting. In academia and I imagine other jobs that require substantially less navel gazing, it's easy to feel disconnected. Thinking of the whole process as joining a larger voice makes it less lonely but also gives the work purpose.
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