Happy Holidays!

It's been a while since I've been able to post--the dog days of December, however, seem to have slipped by; and since Winter Solstice was last night, the days will begin getting longer. Finals are over, papers submitted, and recommendations written, students dispersed to various homes and domiciles--but I won't say anything about grading yet, since they aren't due until January 2nd, and that's work yet to be done. It's Christmas break, and for all of us, I'm sure, a welcome time.

In fact, the purpose of this post is to wish all of you who might read this English department blog a marvelous and fruitful Holiday season!

And what better to celebrate than to offer photos from our very own Wassail party, held on the day after classes were over!

First, the goodies arrayed on one of the tables, and below, our esteemed chair, Ginger, tempting us to partake--at the other table.

Terri and I are trying to get everyone into the spirit of the season. . . .

And while Emily, Matt and Chelsea seem to be responding,

Lou appears to be doing his best "Bah, Humbug" impression!

Ah, the milling crowds, presaging the crush of shoppers and revelers to come. . . .

And, finally, Steve, with me and Ginger--representing the new and the old. . . .

Have a great break, everyone, and we'll see you on January 14th! (or shortly thereafter?)

-Jay

Sticks and Stones may Break my Bones, but Words?

"i aint seen no poems stop a .38
i aint seen no metaphors stop a tank"
- "Two Poems", Haki Madhubuti


Somewhere between reading poetry from the Black Arts Movement and Marx's Communist Manifesto, I have found myself perturbed by the question (yet again): "What do words DO?" It bothers me that as a student of literature I should ask so simplistic a question. I feel such a concern would more likely hail from the minds of the simplistic, the myopic, the avaricious capitalist. I, for more reasons than one, should know first-hand what words can do. Words have been at the root of many revolutions, political decisions and perspective transformations. Words hurt and heal, sting and soothe, yadayadayada. I know the effect of a brilliant writer who effortlessly moves a reader to tears or has one bursting into fits of laughter.

Still, outside of cliche answers like the aforementioned, of what real 'use' is reading the great words of those writers valourized by the canon? In an age decidedly and inadvertently affected by capitalism, what is the market value of literary words? Of all the pleasures I have experienced from studying literature, the one I most value is the ability to critically analyze people and, more often than not, predict behaviour. Now I don't need and economist or market analyst to tell me how understanding people can bring in big bucks. That's the point on which all successful advertising pivots: the understanding of people, what drives and satisfies them.

Francis Bacon in his essay "Of Studies" says "Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight, is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business." The efficacy of literary works are oft limited to the provision of delight and the display of wit for wit's sake. How tangibly do literary words boast the 'ability' aspect? Bacon's statement implies the underlying assumption that mere words as entity are somewhat inactive; their ability is proven in the disposition of business. What good does reveling in similies and synecdoches do in and of themselves? Must we always apply the skills this reveling gives us in order for the words to have value? Since when did value need validation from the materialist? Perhaps delight and ornamental attributes are good enough. After all, money is sought only to satisfy human desires (whether it is making another smile, launching a bomb, wreaking unfounded havoc or inflicting pleasurable pain). It has no implicit value. If hyperbole and onomatopoeia cut right to the chase, great!

The Dog Days of December

Whew! here it is November 26th, and this is only the second post this month. Perhaps that's because these are the days of deep semester: when papers pile up on instructors' desks, and assignments accumulate on students' lap-tops. These are the days of deep semester, when classes begin to run their course, and the combination of Christmas Musak and final papers churn the mind to muck--the Dog Days of the semester, when December looms. I get up in darkness and lie down in darkness, a pale dawn and a too-sudden twilight book-ending the daylight of teaching. Thankfully, we had Thanksgiving recess, during which we try to push off the anxiety of studying, writing, grading a few days, at least.
Mine was marvelously magnificent; I was able to enjoy the days immensely. Perhaps the advantage of age is the cultivated ability to live easily despite the threat that I need the time to "catch up" over the break. Or maybe it's just successful denial. Who knows?
Anyway, I thought I'd ruminate a bit about our company on Thanksgiving, or rather (geneologists, beware! here comes a conundrum) my step-daughter's half-brother Adam. Yes, my step-daughter could visit with both her step-brother and her half-brother together on Thanksgiving night, and was delighted, as were we.
My point, though, is that Adam is an English Major from WashU (St. Louis), class of '06, who was regaling us with his professional stories. Yes, English Majors, there is hope! Having journeyed to D.C. and taking a grunt desk job at MSNBC (recommended by a college friend) answering phones and e-filing, he interviewed with them for a position as political correspondent and was one of eight hired for the current Primary campaign season. He credits not only his writing experience, but his taking an internship at a local St. Louis radio station, where he got acquainted with the skills of deadline writing and interviewing. (And his minor was Psychology, not Journalism!) He's having quite the time traveling between Iowa and New Hampshire, having been embedded with the Fred Thompson campaign, of all people. (The reason he could join us was because NBC was flying him from the mid-west to the north-east, and he had no place to go on the intervening day.) He's glad that Fred finally recognizes him--for six weeks Adam was apparently considered by the candidate an extremely loyal camp follower ("Good to see you again; what was the name?").
He likens the stump speech (as a kind of verbal essay) to stand-up comedy routines: the framework is the same, but there are slightly new or changed sentences to appeal to the particular demographics at a particular location; these are cycled into and out of the stump speech as needed. So what he's on the look-out for is the significantly altered sentence that may signal a change or revelation of policy: what did Fred say about Fox News yesterday? Here's a link to a DailyKos story that cites his column; here's another to MSNBC's FIRSTREAD, where his column appears (Scroll down; if you don't find him, search for Adam Aigner-Treworgy in the search window at the top right of the page).
So much for my inspirational story concerning my Thanksgiving; perhaps later I'll review the first two films I've seen in the theater for the last year. . . .
--Jay

Here We All Are. . . .

At the English Department retreat on Saturday, October 27th, Alden, Ginger's husband, snapped this group photo of all the full-time members of the department. In the front are Lisa Kasmer, Ginger Vaughan, and Betsy Huang. Left to right in back are Jay Elliott, Fern Johnson, SunHee Gertz, Meredith Neuman, Winston Napier, and Steve Levin.
We conducted some good business--lots of consensus, which one might say is rare in academia these days! In any case, maybe this will help you put faces to the names in the course catalogue. Cheers!

--Jay

Chowdahfest!

Yes, the Chowdahfest was a week ago, and I seem to be slipping into the habit of posting about an event a week after it occurs. Ech! some of my students might say I'm breaking my own records by letting as little as a week slip by; witness how "fast" I get papers back! In any case, this is a festive celebration that has become an English Department tradition for some years now: inviting English Major alums, in conjunction with Clark's Alumni-In-Residence event, to come by and talk to the current undergrads and grad students about "life after the English Major"; or, "How Lit-ter-chure Prepared Me for Life." For me, it's wonderfully satisfying, since usually at least one of them is an old advisee, and I get to keep in touch.

Our guests on Friday were (from left to right below) Heidi Gitelman '80, Betsy Hopkins '97, and Jennifer C. Smith '95. Betsy was my advisee this time, and she reminded me that I had cobbled together a double major for her in English and Theater Arts; the aging synapses controlling memory being what they are, my response was, "I did? I must have known then what I don't know now."


They all mentioned in various ways how the emphases on research, analysis and writing connected with the English major had given them invaluable experience in managing and assessing all kinds of diverse data--interactive television documentaries for Heidi; IT for Betsy; Education Programs Manager at Planned Parenthood of Rhode Island for Jennifer (and these are only the most recent manifestations of many career moves for each of them)--but in the question-and-answer session afterwards I suggested that they had foregrounded yet another facet of English study that I hadn't realized in previous Chowdahfests. Threaded through all their employment sagas was a celebration of a deep acquaintance and proven ability to work with narrative: the familiarity with narrative essential to an English major was common to each; their work was successful because they could tell stories and listen to them as well. Wildly various stories, true--from documentaries to IT programmatic narratives to organizational stories to qualify for grant funding--but stories nonetheless. Honest stories, with character and plot; not little fibs or grand confabulations (which seem to be the narratives du jour of our current national political scene), but narratives shaped by and shaping the parameters and direction of their work. Hey, I thought, that's a recommendation for the major I'll gladly support!


So the chowdah was good, the conversation was better, and I hope everyone who attended found something to take away--besides leftover cookies, that is.

--Jay

Blogs of Interest. . . .

For a couple of weeks now I've been meaning to post the links to two student blogs that I think show how Clarkies can take advantage of this medium. The first is Lana Petersson's from her semester abroad last spring in Mexico; she's back this year as a senior doing an Honors Thesis, which is a short novel based on some of the experiences she posted. In other words, her blogging is furnishing material for her fiction: neat trick, no? Many authors--virtually all those who have become media-savvy--create web sites for their published works, but an increasing number have been using their posts as "rough drafts" for their books (here's my friend and blog mentor Stephanie, for example)--mostly non-fiction, but some fiction as well. Writers like Lana find that this inverted process--from blog to book--bears tasty fruit.

The other blog is Susan Monroe's Sweet As; she graduated in '05, and chronicles her years since then in New Zealand and Antarctica, as well as this past summer in the Rockies. She's intrigued by travel writing, and the blog offers a tremendous opportunity to try out her descriptive capabilities as well as develop a traveling persona.

All you people who want to write: take a lesson from all three of these writers, and practice, practice, practice! A blog is an ideal place to do it!

--Jay

Update: I forgot to add that all three blogs have wealths of photos--displayed in various formats. That, says Stephanie, is one of the primary requirements for a successful blog.

Questions of Faith

Last Wednesday, the 10th, I delayed my drive home to attend the "spoken word chorus" called "Questions of Faith," part of the Difficult Dialogues program and organized and coordinated by the Department's Meredith Neuman. It was most impressive, and one of the best things about it was that the script was co-written, along with Meredith, by two of our senior English Majors: Ayaan Agane on the left, and Heather Cenedella on the right. Kudos to them!

The program consisted of four sections, with four Clark actors--Christopher Church, Lee Gaines, Kate Rafey, and Zo Tobi--performing a variety of voices and perspectives drawn from one-on-one interviews with Clark students talking about their "experiences with issues of faith and religion on campus" (Program Notes).

I thought the rhythms of the interwoven voices established a richness that was stunning. All beliefs, from fundamentalist to dogged atheist, counterpointed each other. In fact, one of the best features, to my mind, was a "fugue": the four voices spoke over, around and past each other citing different ceremonial practices and positions to weave a tapestry of sound, in which meaning was subservient to the punctuated sound itself. I knew people were speaking, but I could not understand any one of them alone within the rise and fall of musical speech. The effect was vertiginous, but movingly similar to what the "gift of tongues" must sound like. Marvelous experience; and I hear that the whole thing was videotaped as well. Double marvelous.

Thank you, Meredith. And Ayaan and Heather: quite the sense of verbal artitecture! Bravo!

--Jay