A Bountiful Samhain
29 October 2009
This weekend is Halloween. I will be dressing up as an academic professional and infiltrating the MWPCA/ACA conference on Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror and Humor this weekend in downtown Detroit. I hope there is candy.
This fall is proving to be incredibly hectic, and I do want to keep in touch amidst the chaos, so over the next few weeks, I am going to be posting some short “thoughts on file” from various books that I have read. I say this because one day I may post something about World War Z, and the next day may be a reflection on Anna Karenina. You might get whiplash from the topics flying out of opposite ends of the spectrum with no warning, and so here is a little heads up.
My long term goal – to begin after the upcoming holidays – is to begin conducting read-alongs. When that starts, I will announce a book (or you can suggest one!), and we can all read along together.
For now, let’s all ambrace the randomness…and have a happy and safe Halloween weekend!
That’s Shorthand For…What?
28 October 2009
I logged in this morning with a few ideas for a post topic, but I was not entirely sure what I wanted to write about. So there I am, in my pajamas, clutching a cup of coffee (made with milk….but that’s a different story, trust me) and I start rereading and reviewing yesterday’s administrative stuff. That’s when I notice that the post yesterday was really hard to read.
I took another sip of my coffee and looked again. Yup. It wasn’t me, it was the post. Dropped letters, truncated words, extra spaces. It was like reading a drunk person talking. (well, maybe not that bad, but you get the idea.)
Oh, and hopefully I fixed all of the errors so there is nothing to see there… move along. We can pretend it didn’t happen.
So I started thinking about how I write…you know, penmanship. I have my special occasion writing that comes out when I write sentiments in cards, or when I am making food or place cards for a cocktail party. Generally, it makes an appearance when the people who have to read my writing are either holding a gift that goes with it, or if they had to change out of their pajamas to come over to my place and socialize. In both of those scenarios (especially the latter), they deserve some good penmanship.
For myself…well. Forget it. I take notes and write my lists and the end result looks like a hybrid between Old English and TXT Speak. There are words that I can blend: with the becomes withe and connect to becomes connecto, and then there are words that I can turn into symbols, like behavior, psychology, and because. Behavior and psychology turn into b and Ψology. Because becomes b/c and the @ symbol stands in for at, about, all and area. (Hmm, I wonder what other people’s shorthand is like…if it is like a signature…)
I can read my own shorthand. Usually. And if I can’t, then I can sleuth it out by its context. It is when I can’t read what I typed 12 hours before on a keyboard that I start to worry. And I am not talking about ‘Ohai, im txting so itsin cntxt, KWIM?’ I am talking about when I am typing an equivalent to my special occasion writing, and it comes out looking like my shorthand. You see, I don’t have a set shorthand for keyboards yet, not like I do for scrawling out a note. This means that when I go back to read and proof what I typed out, I don’t catch a lot of what I blended together, as I don’t have a conscious recognition of my shorthand. One would think that means I can recognize the typos and mistakes easier because they would stand out more – they are not yet assimilated into the way I process. But nope.
Apparently that is not the way it works for me. Apparently, my brain has its own online shorthand, with its blended words, dropped letters and extra spaces…it just hasn’t informed me yet.
……
Or, I just need to have more caffeine before I edit.
Cheaper than Therapy
24 July 2009
Why do we do it? Why do we sit in our chairs, on our sofas, on the trains, in our tubs, reading? What do we get from it? Escape? Yes. Knowledge? Yes. A journey, laughter, trivia, insight, bragging rights, skills, information, communication …yes. All of these things. And more. Reflections of ourselves mixed with glimpses of a changing reality. A vision of the world that was, the world that is, and flashes of the world that will be.
Reading Varieties of Disturbance by Lydia Davis has brought this out in me. Her structure and simple poignancy has the effect of a whisper, confided to me amidst the secret rooms of the Changing World Society. I feel as if I have been privileged with a glimpse of an abstract shift that our reality will take in the future. The change is intangible and elusive, yet it weighs heavy on me as a reader. Only Davis knows exactly what the end result will be, as she is the one creating it when she writes. There are other writers that also have this effect on me- Borges, Calvino, Perec, Amis, Noon (the list is organic. Ask me this evening and it will be different)- these writers make me feel as if I am witnessing the creation of a new way of thinking, a new way of existing with the world. They create works that break all of my expectations and change the way I understand literature, the way I understand reading, the way I understand authorship, and the way I conceive of what could be.
Another reason I read is frankly, it is FAR cheaper than therapy.
In all seriousness, through no other medium have I been challenged to examine myself and my place in the world than through literature. During the past few years, as I have really decided on what I want to do- how literature fits into my life and how I fit into the world of literature- the amount of reflection needed to enhance my approach to literature has been astounding. As a writer (and mind you, I don’t consider myself a writer, there just isn’t a better term to describe what I do since, technically, I write papers), tackling the challenges before me in my writing style means tackling my personal hang-ups. (Passive voice, anyone? Try analyzing your own self-confidence.) It is an ongoing process, but being assertive in my writing means being assertive with myself. And that could have cost me thousands of dollars if I tried to work on that through the mental health care system.
And yes, there was a point to that which relates back to Lydia Davis. Her stories expose my own inner workings as if I am trying on swimsuits in an abandoned airplane hangar: vulnerable, exposed, uncomfortable, and yet somehow, NOT ALONE:
The Caterpillar, a one page story about an attempt to save a caterpillar that starts out valiant and ends half-assed, embodies all the responsibility involved in “being the change you wish to see in the world.” When what you are trying to help or change or influence is out of sight, how does one keep it from becoming out of mind? And at what point does something become insignificant enough for me to simply. not. care.
Passing Wind. Read that story and just try to tell me that you have no idea what she is talking about. Go ahead. I DARE you.
And finally, because I have to wrap this up sometime, Head, Heart. A 73 word story that is so simplistic, heartbreakingly honest with the depth of the emotion it deals with. This is a story that would have had zero effect on me 10 years ago. Since then, I have come to know two forms of love that are so deeply affecting that they are accompanied by an irrational fear of losing what I have just discovered. This fear has manifested itself in some crazy ways- I now have nagging worries in the back of my head regarding choking hazards, bridges, faulty electrical wiring, bad weather driving, feline forms of S.I.D.S., and an aversion to my husband using a chain saw. My head knows that these are irrational. My head knows that somehow, if the worst were to happen, life would find a way continue, even if, at those moments, I wouldn’t want it to. My head knows that I should STOP WORRYING AND ENJOY THE MOMENT ALREADY!
My heart doesn’t have ears, so it isn’t listening.
The Inherent Value of Pulp
23 July 2009
During my procrastinations today, I came across a really fantastic piece titled The Almighty Word over at if:book. Alex Rose discusses the value of “trashy literature” (my own description) as a means to an end- being that it gets people to read. A really good article that raises some great points: do we elevate the written word to a higher status than other media simply out of seniority status or nostalgia? And is it really harmless that some literature is valued simply because it is being read, not because of its content? Great site, great article: both are extremely relevant in this time of changing definitions of what it is to be a reader, an author, a book versus literature, etc.
John Locke’s ‘The Epistle to the Reader’
29 June 2009
From An Essay Concerning Human Understanding.
Halfway through the first paragraph I was thinking that I was, essentially, reading Locke’s own blog posting for the period. His direct conversation and acknowledgment of his readers puts him on their level- he demands no reverence, nor does he expect to persuade those that don’t agree. He fully admits that his Essay is written more for him and “the satisfaction of a few friends,” than for any general audience and most certainly not for those people that had “a thorough acquaintance with their own understandings.” (2153) This aspect of his Epistle makes the subject matter seem very approachable, and Locke’s admission of personal fallibility opens a possibility for dual reception- all are welcome to partake in his explorations, and he, in turn is open to possibilities. Locke’s work has been described as “humble and anti-dogmatic,” and yet the subject matter that he is dealing with is lofty. His ability to blend the two is estimable.
And really, his assertion that communication needs a common ground is valid. Common, determined symbols and shared understanding of their signifiers creates a ‘ground zero’ for communication. As Locke puts it: “‘Clear and distinct ideas are terms which, though familiar and frequently in men’s mouths, I have reason to think everyone who uses does not perfectly understand.” (2154) How many of us humans have had difficult conversations due to different connotations of words, or how many of us cannot even decipher what we want to communicate? Locke’s determined/determinate standard for signs and signifiers is a linguistic and philosophical version of the Scientific Method – in order to replicate or communicate a theory, the steps must me laid out in clear, communicative terms. Terms that share the same symbol for all that read them. It brings up the age old questions, though, when the practice is applied to abstracts…where the need for such absolute definitions is both necessary and contrary to the very nature of the abstraction. (Necessary in the sense of our understanding of them – we can only understand them in terms of concrete examples of human experience.) What is Love, what is Justice, what is Truth, Morality, and so on with the capitalized virtues. No answers, only questions.
