Yesterday, I had the most terrifying experience of my academic life thus far.
No, it was not my VIVA. I think that even that may seem like a stroll in the park in comparison with yesterday's experience.
I was teaching Deconstruction with Derrida's "Differance".
The essay itself is very difficult to read. Although the ideas in it are interesting, and potentially mind-blowingly radical / useful for literary criticism, the argument meanders from philosopher to philosopher assuming a knowledge of much philosophy / theory that I just do not have (and nor do my students, although - and here's the thing - they expect me to know).
The lecture, immediately before the class, was very interesting on deconstruction, but ran out of time before we got to 'differance'. So, It's all on me when we get to the seminar. And, to be honest, I'm not sure I know.
The seminar went OK, although it could have gone much better. I think we all (students and tutor) left the room dejected. That moment where you see the light go on in a student's face never happened, and I feel I failed.
Determined for this not to happen again, today I take a board marker to the seminar. If I draw pictures, use arrows, do diagrams, it has to be clearer. We're dealing with some very abstract stuff, maybe if I pin it down in ink on a board it will make all clear (impossible by the implications of 'differance', and I take some comfort in this).
By magic, with pen in hand, I suddenly feel that I know what I'm talking about. And the seminar goes well. Lights go on. Students take over the discussion themselves, arguing, making points and counterpoints and debating the relevance of all this to English literary criticism, to English literature. I leave today's classes not only feeling not dejected, and not a failure, but confident (which 'is', Derrida would argue, automatically inclusive of 'not a failure').
What a difference a pen makes.
Wednesday 31 October 2007
Tuesday 23 October 2007
Fast food...
I have come across something I think everyone should know about. If you're just finishing your PhD, if you've just started a new job, if you have a very busy schedule and are away from home most of the day, if you just fancy a relatively healthy snack on the go...
In the campus shops here I have discovered - Take Away Cereal.
Really. The good people at Kelloggs have come up with little pots of cereal, with plastic fold-up spoon and little carton of milk which are all in a handy sized pack that you can carry around with you. It is cereal 'to go', it says. And I think it's wonderful! Why has no one thought of this before???
Now, I'm not suggesting that this should be an alternative to everyday 'pour your cereal into a bowl and add milk' (or not, as your preference dictates) cereal eating habits. And I'm not lazy enough to be glad about this because it is a very good way of avoiding a lot of my dirty dishes (and I'm hoping it's all made from recyclable packaging so that I don't have to feel too guilty about the extra rubbish). But, as a snack, while I have to stay late at my desk, or as an alternative to the cheese sandwich with which vegetarians who have not brought their own lunch are always presented in shops - even in different varieties, it's still cheese - cereal 'to go' is my new favourite food. The only problem is, the cereal portions just aren't quite big enough...
In the campus shops here I have discovered - Take Away Cereal.
Really. The good people at Kelloggs have come up with little pots of cereal, with plastic fold-up spoon and little carton of milk which are all in a handy sized pack that you can carry around with you. It is cereal 'to go', it says. And I think it's wonderful! Why has no one thought of this before???
Now, I'm not suggesting that this should be an alternative to everyday 'pour your cereal into a bowl and add milk' (or not, as your preference dictates) cereal eating habits. And I'm not lazy enough to be glad about this because it is a very good way of avoiding a lot of my dirty dishes (and I'm hoping it's all made from recyclable packaging so that I don't have to feel too guilty about the extra rubbish). But, as a snack, while I have to stay late at my desk, or as an alternative to the cheese sandwich with which vegetarians who have not brought their own lunch are always presented in shops - even in different varieties, it's still cheese - cereal 'to go' is my new favourite food. The only problem is, the cereal portions just aren't quite big enough...
Monday 15 October 2007
What do we do when we do literary criticism?
This is a question I pose (borrowed from the lecture) to my class of second year Theory students. It is their first tutorial on the course, and with me. 'Look for meanings in texts' said one student; 'see what the author was trying to say' says another.
'Is there any point to what we do?' my next question. In effect, I am asking my students whether there is any value to my career choice. I know this is dangerous territory. I also know, I say confidently, that they must think there is some value to what we do, or they wouldn't be taking a module in English Studies. I say this to them too. They all look like rabbits caught in headlights. And we haven't even started on the heavy Theory part yet.
I say to them, 'One morning having breakfast at the B&B, I started chatting to a lady who, when she found out that I lecture / tutor on literature at university, said she doesn't like literary criticism, it spoils the book. Does she have a point?' Again, dangerous territory. But I find, with relief, most of my students disagree with her. We 'get more out of texts by studying them' says one. 'How?' I ask, and they come up with a variety of options, including one which allows me to expound the virtues of such a course as this which offers a variety of 'ways in' to thinking about texts. Good. It saves me trying to make this seem like a natural, spontaneous announcement. They've given me a 'way in' rather than me just telling them that this is good for them (which I do actually believe, despite my own avoidance of Theory with a capital T in my own writing and research).
Those who agree with the Breakfast Lady say 'you spend too much time thinking about a book, and you can't follow or enjoy the story'. This seems strange to me. I'm not sure I distinguish any longer between reading and 'Reading'. Possibly for undergraduate students, though, the two actions are very different. Yes, sometimes I work harder at it -in my own research / writing, and when I'm reading texts for teaching, but can we actually switch off our critical approaches when we read 'for fun'? Do we not notice repeated images, patriarchal discourse or colonial language, for example, unless we're actively looking? I'm not sure it's possible to turn these awarenesses off, anymore.
So, are my students and the Breakfast Lady right? Is this a disadvantage? I don't think the pleasure of reading, of being told a story, has left me because I accidentally do lit. crit. as I read. Do you?
'Is there any point to what we do?' my next question. In effect, I am asking my students whether there is any value to my career choice. I know this is dangerous territory. I also know, I say confidently, that they must think there is some value to what we do, or they wouldn't be taking a module in English Studies. I say this to them too. They all look like rabbits caught in headlights. And we haven't even started on the heavy Theory part yet.
I say to them, 'One morning having breakfast at the B&B, I started chatting to a lady who, when she found out that I lecture / tutor on literature at university, said she doesn't like literary criticism, it spoils the book. Does she have a point?' Again, dangerous territory. But I find, with relief, most of my students disagree with her. We 'get more out of texts by studying them' says one. 'How?' I ask, and they come up with a variety of options, including one which allows me to expound the virtues of such a course as this which offers a variety of 'ways in' to thinking about texts. Good. It saves me trying to make this seem like a natural, spontaneous announcement. They've given me a 'way in' rather than me just telling them that this is good for them (which I do actually believe, despite my own avoidance of Theory with a capital T in my own writing and research).
Those who agree with the Breakfast Lady say 'you spend too much time thinking about a book, and you can't follow or enjoy the story'. This seems strange to me. I'm not sure I distinguish any longer between reading and 'Reading'. Possibly for undergraduate students, though, the two actions are very different. Yes, sometimes I work harder at it -in my own research / writing, and when I'm reading texts for teaching, but can we actually switch off our critical approaches when we read 'for fun'? Do we not notice repeated images, patriarchal discourse or colonial language, for example, unless we're actively looking? I'm not sure it's possible to turn these awarenesses off, anymore.
So, are my students and the Breakfast Lady right? Is this a disadvantage? I don't think the pleasure of reading, of being told a story, has left me because I accidentally do lit. crit. as I read. Do you?
Wednesday 10 October 2007
Update 1
Hello! Long time no blogging from me. But, to be fair, I have been a little busy! I have found somewhere to live, although can't move in to it yet, so am staying in a lovely Bed and Breakfast for the days of the week that I have to be on campus, and with my mum for the rest of the time. I have been to a wedding - Congratulations to the bride and groom - and I have started my new job. As it was introductory week, I didn't have too much prep to do, but I have to write a lecture for a week on Monday, and there is, of course, much more reading to do for the seminars from now on.
Learning my students' names - something I pride myself on - is going to be tricky this year. I have 12 tutorial groups, mostly in the same 2 rooms, so I'm afraid they are all merging into one at the moment. I'm sure as the personalities of the individuals and the groups emerge I'll find it easier to separate them and remember students' names, but it may take me longer than the usual week to learn names this time. Sorry!
Everyone I've met here seems to be very friendly and supportive. And although I'm missing my friends in the beautiful Scottish City where I used to live very much indeed, moving onwards and upwards is what I need to do. As much as it would be very comfortable, you can't stay a postgrad student in the place you know well for ever. And to be honest, who would want to?
Learning my students' names - something I pride myself on - is going to be tricky this year. I have 12 tutorial groups, mostly in the same 2 rooms, so I'm afraid they are all merging into one at the moment. I'm sure as the personalities of the individuals and the groups emerge I'll find it easier to separate them and remember students' names, but it may take me longer than the usual week to learn names this time. Sorry!
Everyone I've met here seems to be very friendly and supportive. And although I'm missing my friends in the beautiful Scottish City where I used to live very much indeed, moving onwards and upwards is what I need to do. As much as it would be very comfortable, you can't stay a postgrad student in the place you know well for ever. And to be honest, who would want to?
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