Friday, April 14, 2017

Final Deadline Reminder

If you've been in class recently then this should come as no surprise — and if you haven't, then hello, what have you been up to? — but here's the lowdown on your final project's deadline. You'll recall that the details of the final are already discussed in depth both here and here, and if I had to sum the whole thing up in a sentence, Id' say that you want to find an interesting topic around which you can construct a compelling (and sufficiently complex) argument that makes good use of strong evidence from a diverse array of sources. Easy, right?

But what you really want to know: when is it due? Your deadline is 9PM on Thursday April 27th. You should e-mail your paper to me at my gmail address and once I'm able to download and verify that there are no problems with the file I'll write you back to acknowledge receipt. Recall also that the minimum acceptable length is 2000 words (approximately 7 pages), however you're more than welcome to go (well) beyond that limit and it will be very difficult to get a good grade with a paper that short.

If you have any further questions please don't hesitate to drop me a line.


Sunday, March 5, 2017

Workshop Schedule, Rounds 1 and 2

Round 1


Week 11

Monday, March 20:

Wednesday, March 22:
  • Boocher (lead reader: Turner)
  • Callahan (lead reader: Almeida)
  • Lyon (lead reader: Yisrael)
  • Knehans (lead reader: Haendel)
  • Smith (lead reader: Jansen)

Friday, March 24:


Week 12

Monday, March 27:

Wednesday, March 29:
  • Linaults (lead reader: Price)
  • Schwetschenau (lead reader: Bush)
  • Nguyen (lead reader: Gillogly)
  • Yisrael (lead reader: Gault)
  • Kendra Lewis (lead reader: Obrecht)

Friday, March 31
  • Wooten (lead reader: Cowperthwait)
  • Jones (lead reader: Schwetschenau)
  • Rolls (lead reader: Smith)
  • Obrecht (lead reader: Knueven)
  • Ashworth (lead reader: Crispen)


Week 13

Monday, April 3:
  • Crispen (lead reader: Brandts)
  • Gault (lead reader: Callahan)
  • Leck (lead reader: Linaults)
  • Hawkins (lead reader: Brokamp)
  • Knueven (lead reader: Lyon) 

Round 2


Wednesday, April 5:

Friday, April 7:
  • Price (lead reader: Gault)
  • Yisrael (lead reader: Jones)
  • Knehans (lead reader: Lauren Lewis)
  • Gillogly (lead reader: Price)
  • Callahan (lead reader: Turner)


Week 14

Monday, April 10:
  • Lauren Lewis (lead reader: Boucher)
  • Haendel (lead reader: Leck)
  • Wooten (lead reader: Jansen)
  • Crispen (lead reader: Harney-Davila)
  • Gault (lead reader: Lyon)

Wednesday, April 12:
  • Ference (lead reader: Almeida)
  • Leck (lead reader: Bush)
  • Turner (lead reader: Smith)
  • Jones (lead reader: Knehans)
  • Hawkins (lead reader: Obrecht)

Friday, April 14:


Week 15

Monday, April 17:

Wednesday, April 19:
  • Brandts (lead reader: Wulfhorst)
  • Brokamp (lead reader: Ashworth)
  • Bush (lead reader: Wooten)
  • Boocher (lead reader: Knueven)

Workshop Guidelines

Over the course of weeks 11–15 you'll have the opportunity to workshop two excerpts from your final paper. We've already talked extensively about the scope and potential of this project, so there's no need to do so here, but it's worth restating that this is a wonderful chance to interrogate your identity, tastes, learning habits, and cultural contexts as well as a chance to data-mine your bookshelves, record collection, favorite movies, etc. for things that will fit your chosen theme. Last-minute hunting probably won't serve you well; instead carry your topic (or shortlist of topics if you're still not decided) with you, brainstorm lists of potential evidence, and keep an eye out for moments of sudden inspiration.


Response Details

Your responses should be approximately 500–750 words, though that could vary wildly — the goal here isn't to meet a minimum word count, it's to offer us an effective and engaging piece of hybrid prose that aims to be both creative and critical. There's no place for filler here. Because these are segments of a larger essay, it's okay if they don't have a "proper" beginning and end, though you might want to provide some sort of brief note, if possible, setting up your transitions in and out of what we're reading.

In your pieces you should be sharing your opinions, but also moving beyond that to offer up a form of analysis, or an argument, or convincing your reader of a given point or position, and the best way to do that is with copious evidence from your chosen texts themselves. You can (and certainly should) have fun, be weird, take risks, commit daring stylistic feats, and even exploit tenuous connections to your theme, but remember to make a point as well; without that, your piece is incomplete. 

Your responses must be posted no less than two days prior to their workshopping (i.e. before our class meeting on the class day before a Wednesday or Friday workshop, or before 2:30PM on Saturday for Monday workshops) and should be cleanly formatted, cited, etc. You'll e-mail them to me at my Gmail account (my last name [dot] my full first name [at] gmail [dot] com) in advance of that deadline and I'll link them on the schedule. Your writing should be in Word or PDF format, which should be able to accommodate hyperlinks, embedding of photos/videos/etc., and which everyone in the class should be able to view. 


(Peer) Participation

Because of the sheer number of students in this class, we're going to need to move quickly as we workshop each piece (I'm estimating 8 minutes total per student) and that means that everyone is going to need to be prompt, brief, and to-the-point with their in-class feedback (which also presupposes that you've read the day's posts at least once and are familiar with them). To make the process easier, each student being workshopped on a given day will have a lead reader chosen at random, and this student will be responsible for getting our discussion off to a quick start with a few comments. These three criteria are an excellent (and simple) way to frame your reaction to a given piece:
  1. Is this response effective? Is it interesting? Why or why not? Note specific details(!)
  2. Comment on the use of evidence: is it sufficiently clever and/or convincing?
  3. Are there any major questions that remain unanswered for you or concerns that you have?
The lead reader will also bring two copies of their responses to these questions on the day of the workshop: one for me, one for the author. Being absent on your lead reader day (or on the day your writing is being workshopped) is not recommended without serious extenuating circumstances and grades will be docked accordingly and you'll be skipped for that round.

Finally, while it should go without saying, our workshop should be a place for constructive criticism rooted in mutual respect and guided by a desire to learn about and improve our own writing processes while helping others do the same.  


Grading / The Progressive Approach

Feedback is more important than grades, but during the workshop portion of our semester I will be giving students grades for each of their pieces on a simplified scale: essentially ✓, ✓+, ✓-. Letter grades will only be given for your final essay, but this should offer you some sort of sense of how you're doing. Because honesty and growth are important, there will be no grade inflation here, but if you get a ✓- it will come with some concrete ideas on how to do better next time. In general, this progressive approach should guide your efforts this semester, and while that's a double-edged sword, it is so in a positive manner: you should aim to make improvements (whether small or large) as you progress through the two workshop rounds, and that means that a poor showing in first round will have less of an effect on your final grade than exemplary work later in the term.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Weeks 8–9: Lauren Redniss' "Thunder & Lightning: Weather Past, Present, and Future"

A two-page spread from Lauren Redniss' Thunder and Lightning: Weather Past, Present, Future.
If we've already experienced one sort of expressive leap from Maggie Nelson's Bluets (a very visual book without images) to Claudia Rankine's Citizen (a book full of visual arts and iconic images that also aims to mitigate the divide between the printed page and the moving image at times), then we're going exponentially farther with Lauren Redniss' Thunder and Lightning: Weather Past, Present, Future, a book that describes itself as "an uncatagorizable fusion of storytelling and visual art." Elsewhere, Redniss describes herself as an "author of visual non-fiction." That feels more apt than "graphic novelist," though some of the lessons we learned from Scott McCloud will serve us well here.


Thunder and Lightning is Redniss' third book and the follow-up to the much-beloved Radioactive, which told the story of Nobel-winning scientist Marie Curie. Her first book, Century Girl, traced the life of Doris Eaton Travis, the last living showgirl from the Zigfield Follies. In her MacArthur Foundation citation, the common threads linking these disparate projects, as well as the techniques that serve her well:
Lauren Redniss is an artist and writer seamlessly integrating artwork, written text, and design elements in works of visual nonfiction. Redniss undertakes archival research, interviews and reportage, and field expeditions to inform every aspect of a book's creation, from its text, to its format and page layout, to the design of the typeface, to the printing and drawing techniques used for the artwork. Her intimate, idiosyncratic perspective illuminates widely varying subjects.
In Thunder and Lightning this meticulous attention to detail carries over into her self-designed typeface (named Qaneg LR after the Eskimo word for "snow") and the various printmaking and coloring techniques used for the book's many images, which, in and of themselves, are inspired and directly reference naturalist's engravings of the eighteenth and nineteenth century. Rather than take well-trod paths through weather phenomena, she offers us chapters focusing on abstract ideas like "chaos," "dominion," "war," "profit," and "pleasure," tying together oblique stories to make for a compelling narrative. We're a nation already torn about over the fundamental question of whether climate change is fact or fiction, along with the grim future prospects it might bring, therefore it's no stretch, especially when taking the historical longview (as Redniss does here), to view Thunder and Lightining as "the year's most political picture book" (as The Telegraph opines).

Here's the breakdown for our four days with the book. We'll also spend a little time towards the end of this segment laying out plans for the workshop sessions we'll begin after Spring Break. Also, please note that there are notes on each chapter starting on page 237, as well as notes on the typeface and printmaking techniques that will be useful foreknowledge in approaching the book:

  • Friday, March 3: Ch. 1–3
  • Monday, March 6: Ch. 4–7
  • Wednesday, March 8: Ch. 8–10
  • Friday, March 10: Ch. 11–12

Here are some supplemental resources that might be of interest to you:
  • the New York Times offers two reviews of Redniss' book: one by Sadie Stein, the other by Jennifer Schuessler
  • Smithsonian considers how Redniss "is rethinking biography": [link]
  • Elle agrees, asserting that she "is inventing a new literary genre": [link]
  • The Guardian (UK) hails the book as "thrillingly original": [link]
  • the aforementioned Telegraph review: [link]
a 2011 TED Talk where Redniss discusses her creative process

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Weeks 7–8: Claudia Rankine's "Citizen: An American Lyric"


We're following up Maggie Nelson's Bluets with a book that all too perfectly encapsulates our nation's fragmented zeitgeist and which, for that reason, is one of the most universally-lauded books in recent memory: Claudia Rankine's Citizen: An American Lyric (Greywolf). Citizen was nominated for two of the three top literary prizes — the National Book Award and the National Book Critics Circle Award — winning the latter (FYI: the Pulitzer is the third); it also won the PEN Center USA award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, an NAACP Image Award, and the UK's Forward Prize. Finally, like our other two authors, Rankine is a 2016 recipient of the MacArthur Foundation's "Genius" Grant. She is using her $625,000 prize to found the Racial Imaginary Institute, which, per a recent article in the Guardian, will be:
a "presenting space and a think tank all at once" where artists and writers can really wrestle with race. She wants it to be a "space which allows us to show art, to curate dialogues, have readings, and talk about the ways in which the structure of white supremacy in American society influences our culture."
As the retrospective articles on 30 Rock that we read a few weeks ago attest, America briefly allowed itself to be comforted by the thought that we had reached a "post-racial" state after the groundbreaking election of President Barack Obama. The past eight years — marred by countless acts of racially-motivated violence, including the deaths of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Freddie Gray, the Charleston Nine, Sandra Bland, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and Cincinnati's own Samuel DuBose, among far too many others — has demonstrated that woefully, that's not the case. Taking that as a foundation, it's easy to understand why Rankine's book has be so eagerly embraced by audiences desperately searching for answers, or at least perspectives, in these troubled times. Rankine's NBA citation succinctly sums up exactly why everyone is talking about this book:
In Citizen, Claudia Rankine recounts mounting racial aggressions in ongoing encounters in twenty-first-century daily life and in the media. Some of these encounters are slights, seemingly slips of the tongue, and some are intentional offensives in the classroom, at the supermarket, at home, on the tennis court with Serena Williams and the soccer field with Zinedine Zidane, online, on TV — everywhere, all the time. The accumulative stresses come to bear on a person’s ability to speak, perform, and stay alive. Our addressability is tied to the state of our belonging, Rankine argues, as are our assumptions and expectations of citizenship. In essay, image, and poetry, Citizen is a powerful testament to the individual and collective effects of racism in our contemporary, often named "post-race" society.
Born and raised in Jamaica, Rankine earned both a BA and MFA in the US and has published five volumes of poetry (which have become increasingly multimodal and genre-bending) over the past twenty years. With Don't Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric (2004) — an ambitious book that intermingled America's long history of racial injustice, post-9/11 terror paranoia, media manipulation, and the author's own struggles with depression in the face of all these things — Rankine gained widespread attention for her considerable talents. As its subtitle suggests, Citizen continues the mission of Don't Let Me Be Lonely, bringing her focus to present-day tragedies that have filled our news cycle in recent years.

Here's a breakdown for the three classes we'll spend with Citizen:

Friday, February 24: parts I–III
Monday, February 27: IV–V (up to Jena Six, ending on pg. 103)
Wednesday, March 1: V (Stop-and-Frisk)–end





Friday, February 17, 2017

Reminder: Late Papers Due Today



As I've mentioned several times during recent class meetings, this Friday, February 17th, is the last day that students scheduled as respondents during the first section of the semester to hand in late papers. If I don't have a paper in hand by our class meeting, then I'm afraid you'll receive an F for the assignment, which, it goes without saying, will make it difficult to do well in this class as a whole.

At present, I only have a little more than half of what I should have. Please consult the course information and policies at the link on the right if you have any further questions drop me a line.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Weeks 6–7: Maggie Nelson's "Bluets"


I am certainly not the only person to be blown away upon first encountering Maggie Nelson's Bluets (Wave Books, 2009) — an unassuming, slight book of tiny prose fragments whose minimalisms disguise an intoxicating complexity — and I hope your reaction will be similar to mine.

"Suppose I were to begin by saying that I had fallen in love with a color," the book begins, "Suppose I were to speak this as though it were a confession; suppose I shredded my napkin as we spoke. It began slowly. An appreciation, an affinity. Then, one day, it became more serious. Then (looking into an empty teacup, its bottom stained with thin brown excre­ment coiled into the shape of a sea horse) it became some­how personal." Thus we likewise begin our journey alongside Nelson through her love affair with the color blue, a process she tells us happened "as if falling under a spell, a spell I fought to stay un­der and get out from under, in turns," over the course of 240 brief number prose vignettes.

Along the way, she'll consider the color and its wider implications through a number of frames — from literature to the fine arts, music to film, philosophy to psychology,  science to religion, medicine to geography — all the while remaining deeply-rooted in Nelson's own personal experiences. In one regard, this is a book with a singular focus, but in reality that specificity merely serves as the nexus for an exploration of incredible breadth.

By the same token, as the central model for the sort of writing you'll be doing later in the term, I hope that the ambitious flexibility of Nelson's form will serve you as well as it does her in Bluets.

Here's our reading breakdown for our week with Bluets (n.b. the numbers here refer to the book's individual sections, not pages):
  • Friday, Feb. 17: sections 1–89
  • Monday, Feb. 20: sections 90–164
  • Wednesday, Feb. 22: sections 165–240
And here are some supplemental resources related to the text:

Looking Forward to your Final Projects

It's only week six, but we're already taking time to look forward to your final projects. Why? Because we're at a crossroads between our first and second major sections of the semester and that's the ideal time to reflect on what we've already done and how it'll shape the work that follows.

Throughout this first phase of the term we've traced the evolution of English Studies from its origins to the multi-modal approach it takes in the 21st century. Now we're getting ready to look a little more closely at three much-lauded books that share a similar hybrid approach to their chosen subjects. In Maggie Nelson's Bluets, the focus seems like a simple one: the color blue. Yet, in her hands we discover a great complexity behind that singular topic. Claudia Rankine explores contemporary issues surrounding race in Citizen: An American Lyric, and while we know that won't be a simple topic, we marvel at the depth and breadth of her argument. Finally, while the main idea behind Lauren Redniss' Thunder & Lightning: Weather Past, Present, Future seems clear to us, the choices she makes in working through that field reveal a perspective all her own.

These books present a blueprint for the work you'll be doing once we return from spring break, when everyone will workshop two short pieces that work in a similar mode to Nelson, Rankine, and Redniss. Those two short pieces will be part of a longer final paper you'll write that will have similar aims, as I'll reiterate below.


So what should you be doing now?
  1. If you haven't done so already, you should start cultivating a short list — two or three items maximum — of ideas that you think you'd be interested in writing through. They can be an abstract idea like Nelson's (a color, a quality, a virtue, etc.), a demographic categorization like Rankine's (gender, age, sexual orientation, class), or a discrete field like Redniss' (baseball, space travel, cooking, etc.). There are lots of possibilities here, and my desire is for you to find something you feel passionate about exploring in diverse ways, and about which you can produce some sort of argument or synthesized conclusion. If you're uncertain if your idea is too broad or narrow in scope, or if you're looking for guidance, please be in touch.
  2. You should start thinking about specific cultural artifacts that will serve as facets of your argument, remembering all of the various media we've spent the past few weeks exploring. It'll take a lot of brainstorming and fine-tuning to get a final series of points that will work well together.
  3. Keep these last two points in mind as you make your way through our next three books, and think analytically about the ways in which each author goes about constructing their own arguments.

What will the final look like?

I'll post more information about both the workshop round and the final as each approaches. For the workshop round you'll be submitting two pieces in the ballpark of 500 words each, and taken together those will be about half of your final, which should be about 2000 words minimum. If you want to think in five-paragraph essay form, you'll need to have at least three main sections that your essay is anchored by, though these should still be relatively broad sub-topics that can accommodate complex analysis using more than just one piece of evidence. Each of your workshop pieces might correspond to a rough draft of one of those sections. 

I'm not one to split hairs, but roughly speaking, I'd like at no more than 2/3 of your evidence to be literary (i.e. coming from a book), which means that the remaining 1/3 might be a film, or music, or a work of art, a specific object, a word, etc. Conversely, I'd like you to still have some sort of literary focus, so at least 1/3 of your source material should be literary.

The challenge here is two-fold: 1) finding a novel topic capacious enough to provide for all sorts of potential evidence, and 2) to find, analyze, and weave together your evidence in such a way that it produces some sort of cohesive conclusion. The latter might be harder than the former, but that's another very good reason to be paying attention to the way in which Nelson, Rankine, and Redniss construct their books.


Gah! Gah? Gaaaah!?

Yes, it's normal to have questions about this. I'm happy to provide answers today and along the way, and if you're thinking critically and conscientiously about the reading we'll be doing in the next phase of the class, a lot of things will become clearer.

February 15: Digital Humanities Tools for English Studies

No, it's not quite like this . . . It's more like sitting at your laptop until your butt falls asleep.
Digital humanities has been the new buzzword in the academic world for the past decade or so, and with good reason — while we tend to think of computer technology as being a tool of STEM fields, it also has tremendous potential to revolutionize fields such as our own. Over the past several years I've been involved with DH-centric efforts here at UC — including my work with the Elliston Project, our annual THATCamps, and as part of the advisory group behind our forthcoming Digital Scholarship Center — and through my work at UPenn as well (including PennSound, Jacket2, and the HiPSTAS project).

Originally, I'd intended to spend this day giving you a much more comprehensive overview of the realm of digital humanities, but I think it would be a better use of our time to provide you with a few practical tools you might find useful in your work this semester and throughout your time at UC.


Google Books: Simply put, this is the world's largest full-text database. A lot of the material is only available in limited preview or snippet form, but that can still help you find what page(s) what you're looking for will be on in the hard copy of the book. Simple keyword searching can help you track down certain scenes, phrases, quotes, ideas, etc. in an instant, especially when you didn't bother to take notes, outline, annotate the book, etc. Searching books on Amazon is a second option when the specific edition you want is locked down on Google. That information's still there, however, and that leads to our next tool. Beyond searching within one book, doing a more general search is a good way to find critical perspectives and/or information you might not have otherwise known about.


Google Ngram viewer: Google's Ngram viewer allows you to trace trends in usage in books over time from 1800 to 2000 (using the complete corpus of Google Books' archives) and make conclusions about what influences those trends. Here, for example, we can see the use of "Dylan" as it gets a boost from Dylan Thomas in the 1950s, a bigger boost from Bob Dylan in the 60s into the 70s, and then become the name of at least seven kids in your eighth grade class:



You can compare terms against one another (separating them with commas) and adjust the time frame as needed, and it'll also provide Google Books results broken down by time periods for you to browse. While the Ngram viewer works well for historical searches, it doesn't help much with more contemporary issues. For that, we'll need yet another tool.


Google Trends: The Google Trends database starts in 2004 and tracks information in more or less realtime. It can parse results accounting for web traffic vs. appearances in books and other printed media indexed in Google Books, and can similarly track interest over time, regional interest, and related search terms. Here, for example, you can see Google traffic for Sam Dubose and Ray Tensing from 2015 to the present:




The Wayback Machine: The Internet Archive is dedicated to the seemingly-impossible task of documenting the ever-changing landscape of the world wide web from relatively close to its cultural watershed moment in the mid-1990s to the present day. One of their more useful tools is The Wayback Machine, which allows users to browse multiple snapshot versions of a website as catalogued by its army of web crawlers. It's a wonderful way to get your hands on data that's otherwise inaccessible, whether the site just happens to be down temporarily or went offline years ago. It's also a wonderful tool that can be used to track changes that someone might or might not want you to know they've made.


Notetaking Apps: You need a way to keep track of your digital stuff. A lot of people like Evernote. I like Google Keep. It allows me to import entries straight from my browser and tag them as necessary to keep my info straight. Consider getting into the habit of using a resource like this sooner rather than later.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

February 13: Studying Words



Before we get to today's readings I'd like to you take a little quiz. Specifically, the New York Times regional dialect quiz — based on the decade-old work of linguistics researchers Bert Vaux and Scott Golder — which went viral in late 2013 thanks to a novel presentation in a quiz format and some well-constructed heat maps that allowed users to drill down to local variations in speech. Given that we probably have some level of geographic variety in our class composition this should be a good way for you to start thinking about the relative flexibility of day-to-day speech conventions that we take for granted as absolute.

Regional differences in the term used for soft drinks.

That linguistic variability is intimately tied to our sense of English as a uniquely mutable and evolving language, and that's certainly not a new idea, as we discover when reading Walt Whitman's 1885 essay, "Slang in America" [PDF], which extends ideas present in his poetry from the very beginning (recall Whitman published Leaves of Grass with a brief glossary explaining to unfamiliar readers what terms like "pismire," "Paumanok," "Tuckahoe," and "quahog" meant).

This appreciation of regional and temporal variability frequently yields modern-day listicles like the BBC's recent "Lost in Translations: Words with Incredible Meanings," Slate's "The United Slang of America," The Guardian's "Basic Question: Did Sylvia Plath Write Like a 21st-Century Teenager?," "These Words You Use Every Day Have Racist/Prejudiced Pasts, And You Had No Idea" from The Huffington Post, and NPR's "16 'Spiffy' Words College Students Used in 1916," and certainly, pop-cultural pieces like that point us in the right direction of thinking more objectively about the origins and uses of language.

Still, these pieces aren't quite as critically robust as we might wish they were. I'd like to point out two examples of entities doing great ongoing writing about words and their history and use. First, from Slate's excellent "Lexicon Valley" column, here are a few recent articles:
  • Jacob Brogan, "What is the F--kboy?" [link]
  • Katy Waldman, "The Incredible Shrinking Zeitgeist: How Did This Great Word Lose Its Meaning?" [link]
  • Katy Waldman, "Why We Be Loving the Habitual Be" [link]
  • Heather Schwedel, "Does Donald Trump Talk Like a Woman?" [link]

Next, NPR's wonderful "Code Switch" column, which explores the "frontiers of race, culture, and ethnicity," has an occasional (and seemingly now-defunct) feature entitled "Word Watch," which offers up well-researched analyses of the racially-charged language we might not even realize surrounds us. A few examples from "Word Watch":
  • Gene Denby, "The Secret History Of The Word 'Cracker'" [link]
  • Kat Chow, "Running Late? Nah, Just On 'CPT'" [link]
  • Lakshmi Gandhi, "What A Thug's Life Looked Like In 19th Century India" [link]
  • Kat Chow, "How 'Ching Chong' Became The Go-To Slur For Mocking East Asians" [link]

So how might you try to do this sort of etymological writing on your own? First take stock of the techniques and approaches that the writers above have used — remember, good writers cite their sources so that you can follow their bread crumb trail. Dictionaries — whether hard copy or online; as august an institution as the OED or as wonderfully crass and spontaneous as Urban Dictionary — are your best friends, and even basic Google searches will often reveal the complicated histories and origins of words. Another marvelous tool is Green's Dictionary of Slang, an exhaustive archive of "five hundred years of the vulgar tongue," which is now available free online (after existing solely in a multi-volume print edition costing more than $1000). We'll talk about some other tools that might benefit you in our next class.


Finally, if etymology is your cup of tea, then I wholeheartedly recommend Helen Zaltzman's wonderful podcast, The Allusionist. Subtitled "Small Adventures in Language," this show takes brief, engaging looks into the words and phrases that help shape our world, and is always entertaining.


Saturday, January 28, 2017

February 8: Studying Objects

French literary and cultural critic Roland Barthes, whose Mythologies (1957)
sets the stage for modern critiques of material culture
As we think about the field of English studies in the late 20th and early 21st century we're at home with the idea that our work might focus on subjects other than traditional written texts — audio recordings, videos, photographs, and other art objects, for example, as our work over the last several classes have revealed — but on the esoteric and interdisciplinary fringes, where innovative creative work is being done, there's something even more abstract (and, simultaneously, concrete): the object. Interdisciplinary is the key word here, since the way in which one addresses a given object might touch upon any number of other subject areas, from history to philosophy, economics to sociology, psychology to religion.

We'll start with a few selections from Roland Barthes' Mythologies, a book of brief essays that originally ran as a column in Les Lettres Nouvelles and explore the greater resonances of everyday things. In the second part of the book, Barthes explains the motivation behind his observations, offering the notion of "second-level signification," which builds upon the basic linguistic transaction (i.e. a signifier and a signified combining to form a symbol), moving from denotation to connotation. Still, even if that sentence doesn't make any sense to you at all, the ideas behind Barthes' seductive prose will.

Roland Barthes, from Mythologies [PDF]
  • Soap-powders and Detergents
  • Toys
  • Wine and Milk
  • Steak and Chips
  • Plastic
We'll stay in France for our next brief reading, Georges Perec's, "Notes Concerning the Objects That Are on My Work Table" [PDF] — a short portion of the larger series published as Species of Spaces, which is concerned with everyday materiality.

Next, we'll shift gears from the literary mode to something more journalistic, with two examples of contemporary historical writing about objects. I've already talked in class about the Cooper Hewitt Museum's excellent "Object of the Day" column, which takes a brief look at interesting objects from the museum's vast archives, and we'll start by looking at a few selections from there:

Then, just as records have the 33 1/3 series, and there are numerous similar series dedicated to individual films, objects have now gotten into the act with the "Object Lessons" series of books and essays. So far, full-length books have been released on objects as diverse as the remote control, the golf ball, bread, glass, the phone booth, hair, dust, and doorknobs (among other titles), and The Atlantic has partnered with the series to publish essays in a similar vein. We'll take a look at three such essays for Friday:
  • Mary Niall Mitchell, "The Piano That Can't Play a Tune" [link]
  • T. Hugh Crawford, "Where Have All the Axes Gone" [link]
  • Josh Giesbrecht, "How the Ballpoint Pen Killed Cursive" [link] 

Lydia Burkhalter's collection of gray sweatshirts (from WiC)
We'll close with two selections from the ambitious collection Women in Clothes. Edited by Sheila Heti, Heidi Julavits, and Leanne Shapton, with contributions from more than 600 other women, this wide ranging book "explores the wide range of motives that inform how women present themselves through clothes, and what style really means" via questionnaires, interviews, short essays, photo galleries and many other hybridized forms. 

Were this book not so big and not so expensive, I'd have used it in this class, but hopefully this little taste will spur your interest to explore further:
  • Tavi Gevinson, "Color Taxonomy" [PDF]
  • Amy Fusselman, "The Mom Coat" [PDF]

February 3–6: Studying Video


Just as spent our time working with audio largely meant reading music criticism, our time spent on video will focus mostly on writing about film (and to a lesser degree, television), though it could encompass a far wider range of topics, from cartoons and video games to music videos, YouTube clips, and even GIFs. Still, the ideas and techniques employed in our readings below could just as easily apply to those other disparate media.

In terms of film criticism, there's perhaps no more esteemed figure than the late Roger Ebert (above), who practically revolutionized the field, along with colleague Gene Siskel, through their popular eponymous television show, and that's why we're starting Friday with a selection of his work.

Folks who tuned in on any given week could hear serious, well-considered (if often disagreeing) viewpoints on contemporary movies — from the finest new releases to mainstream dreck — and be exposed to independent productions, foreign films, and cinema classics that might not get coverage in their daily newspapers (though both Siskel and Ebert wrote for competing Chicago newspapers for much of their careers).  The good-natured competition between them, along with their passionate perspectives, often resulted in compelling television, and off-screen they could be even more lovingly vicious:


We'll start with one of Ebert's favorite films of all time, and then move on to a few more recent films that you might be familiar with. In most cases, I've linked both his original review and a later analysis for his "Great Movies" series:
Even Ebert's most scathing reviews are fine examples of critical writing and perhaps even more so than his praise for classic films reveal the depths of his love and respect for the medium. Here are two of his most infamous pans. You don't necessarily need to read these, but it is quite pleasurable to do so:
  • North (1994) [link]
  • Baby Geniuses (1999) [link]
    Pauline Kael at The New Yorker in 1985.
    Aside from Gene Siskel, one of Roger Ebert's few true peers was Pauline Kael, The New Yorker's film critic from 1968–1991. Kael's highly individual voice — frank and brazen, while unapologetically passionate about films that deeply moved her — won her as many enemies as friends, and while her tenure was relatively brief (she retired after twenty-three years due to Parkinson's disease), her influence was long-lasting, most notably through the "Paulettes." This group of young critics that Kael took under her wing in the 1970s (including A.O. Scott, Elvis Mitchell, David Edelstein, and the two men who'd take her place at The New Yorker, Anthony Lane and David Denby) continue in her footsteps to this day.

    We'll look at a few pieces from throughout her career that vary in length and tone, from French New Wave and American Auteur to one of Scorcese's earliest masterpieces and Dustin Hoffman in drag:
    • Masculin Féminin (1966) [link]
    • Bonnie and Clyde (1968) [PDF]
    • Raging Bull (1980) [PDF]
    • Tootsie (1982) [PDF]

    On Monday the 6th, we'll switch gears to focus on television and video-based installation art. While the film critic has long been held in high esteem, her peers writing on the small screen have not always received the same respect. Nonetheless, just as we find ourselves overwhelmed by excellent scripted television choices in this day and age, a new class of insightful critics have risen to the challenge of writing about this unique medium. While we don't have the time to cover their work as thoroughly, I'd like to offer up a few interesting examples, and also happily point you towards Matt Zoller Seitz's article "There Has Never Been a Better Time for TV Criticism" in Vulture, which highlights some of the very best writers in this field.

    Let's begin with Emily Nussbaum, The New Yorker's television critic. Given the high-profile nature of that role, I found her reversal of opinion on the Cinemax series The Knick, to be a refreshing act of critical transparency that also made clear some of the challenges TV writers face vs. their film reviewer peers:
    • "Surgical Strikeout: Steven Soderbergh's Disappointing 'The Knick'" (8/11/14) [link]
    • "I Changed My Mind About 'The Knick'" (10/2/14) [link]
    Next, I thought I'd offer up two contemporaneous articles covering very similar ground: the topic of race on one of my favorite recent TV series, 30 Rock. Given the disparate profiles of the two venues and the authors' individual styles, there's as much in common between these pieces as there are differences:
    • Wesley Morris, "30 Rock Landed on Us: Identity Politics and NBC's Most Subversive Show" in Grantland (1/31/13) [link]
    • Alyssa Rosenberg, "Liz Lemon's White Guilt, The Black Crusaders, and Grizz and Dot Com: Why '30 Rock' Mattered On Race" in ThinkProgress (1/29/13) [link]


    Finally, because writing about the moving image can imply more than film or television, I'm also giving you two 2012 pieces by Daniel Zalewski from The New Yorker on Christian Marclay's 2010 installation/film The Clock (you can view an excerpt from The Clock above):
    • "The Hours" [link]
    • "Night Shift with 'The Clock'" [link]

    º º º

    As I've done with the previous posts, here's a glossary of film terminology from the British Film Institute that might be a useful resource if you choose to write about the moving image. Another useful resource is Roger Ebert's (abridged) glossary of movie terms.

    Tuesday, January 24, 2017

    January 30 – February 1: Studying Audio

    The record shelves of legendary BBC Radio 1 DJ John Peel.
    When we think of doing audio, our mind most readily thinks of music, though, as last week's class on poetry suggested, sound can be a part of our conception of that genre, and sound can be a critical component of our analysis of film (which we'll be discussing later this week) as well. As we did with the visual arts, we'll spend two days on approaches to audio.

    We'll start on Monday by thinking critically about listenership with two pieces that should provide a solid foundation upon which to build. First up we have "The Three Listening Modes," an excerpt from French composer and sound theorist Michel Chion's book Audio-Vision: Sound on Screen. [PDF]

    I'm pairing that with "How We Listen," a chapter from composer and conductor Aaron Copland's iconic book, What to Listen For in Music. Just as Chion proposes three listening modes (causal, semantic, and reduced), Copland offers us three planes on which we listen to music (the sensuous, the expressive, and the sheerly musical). [PDF]

    Lester Bangs, patron saint of rock critics, in 1977.
    We'll wrap up the day with a few selections from a pioneering, one-of-a-kind rock critic: the late, great Lester Bangs. During his tenure at Rolling Stone and Creem from the late 60s to the mid-70s, and later as a freelance writer, Bangs tirelessly championed artists he deemed worthy — effectively conceptualizing the genre of punk rock, and later advocating for heavy metal and new wave acts — in a rapturous, free-wheeling style that displayed considerable musical knowledge along with an admiration for authors like Jack Kerouac, William S. Burroughs, and Hunter S. Thompson. Here's a taste of his ornery style:


    You'll be reading a few excerpts from Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung: The Work of a Legendary Critic: Rock'N'Roll as Literature and Literature as Rock 'N'Roll, a posthumous collection of Bangs' best assembled by Greil Marcus in 1988: [PDF]
    • "Kraftwerkfeature" (on Krautrock pioneers Kraftwerk)
    • "The Greatest Album Ever Made" (on Lou Reed's notorious Metal Machine Music)
    • "A Reasonable Guide to Horrible Music" (a brief list-piece on noise music)

    The first 50 (of 118 total) books in the 33 1/3 series. I've read 22 of these and 29 altogether (click to enlarge).
    As is the case in other genres, there's a tension in music criticism — as in many other fields — between the maximal and the minimal: talented authors who are capable of writing book-length explorations of complex topics banging their heads up against the strictures of popular journalism (where 300 word reviews are considered a luxury). One of my favorite venues for the former over the past decade has been the 33 1/3 series, which has released more than a hundred books on important albums from ABBA to Neil Young, which address their subjects with startling insightfulness through a diverse array of approaches.

    We'll start Friday off with a few selections from Marc Woodworth and Ally-Jane Grossan's recent volume, How to Write About Music: Excerpts from the 33 1/3 Series, Magazines, Books and Blogs with Advice from Industry-leading Writers, which, among other things, contains exemplary reviews of very contemporary albums you're more like to be familiar with. I've also included a few bits of advice and a useful writing prompt from the book: [PDF]
    • "Expert Advice from Our Writers"
    • Ann Powers on Daft Punk's Random Access Memories
    • Jim DeRogatis on Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends
    • Lou Reed on Kanye West's Yeezus
    • "Writing Prompt: The Blind Review"
    • "The Five Things Every Music Writer or Editor Needs"
    • Marty Davis on Black Flag
    Next, for the sake of comparison, we'll look at a trio of reviews of David Bowie's triumphant final album, Blackstar, from three very different sources, NPR, Pitchfork, and Rolling Stone:

    • "David Bowie's 'Blackstar' Is Adventurous To The End" by Barry Walters: [link]
    • "David Bowie, Blackstar" by Ryan Dombral: [link]
    • "David Bowie: Blackstar" by David Fricke: [link]
    Finally, also from NPR, here's Linda Holmes' "The Individualism And Fist-Pumping Of George Michael's 'Freedom '90,'" a tribute published after the singer's death that focuses on what's perhaps the late singer's most iconic track. While reading this piece, I was genuinely struck by the facile way in which Holmes balances the audio and video elements of the track and works on both macro and micro levels. It's an excellent piece of criticism and one worth thinking about analytically: [link]

    Thursday, January 19, 2017

    January 25–27: Studying Visual Arts

    Visitors appreciating the unique architecture of New York City's Guggenheim Museum.
    Much like the other disciplines we'll be looking at over the next few weeks, the visual arts are a remarkably broad and complex subject that's not really all that easy to encapsulate briefly. Nonetheless, we shall do our best over the next two classes with a handful of foundational texts and an opportunity to look comparatively at a little contemporary art criticism.

    For Wednesday, we'll start with two short pieces by Susan Sontag, originally published in the New York Review of Books in the fall of 1973. They'd later appear as the first two chapters in her landmark essay collection, On Photography (1977):

    • "Photography" (later titled "In Plato's Cave"): [PDF]
    • "Freak Show" (later titled "America, Seen Through Photographs, Darkly"): [PDF]
    The former deals more generally with the medium of photography while the latter is a review of two collections of photos by Diane Arbus and Walker Evans, which frames its argument through the ideas of Walt Whitman. You should easily be able to Google some of the specific images Sontag describes for the sake of comparision.

    Next, we'll read the first chapter of Ways of Seeing (1972), by recently-deceased critic John Berger, which starts with the provocative assertion that "Seeing comes before words. The child looks and recognizes before it can speak." As he openly acknowledges, many of his ideas are shaped by Walter Benjamin's iconic essay "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction": [PDF]


    For Friday, we'll begin with the first two chapters of Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics: the Invisible Art (1993) — a book that (alongside pioneering works like Art Spiegelman's Maus) helped convince the general public that graphic narratives were more than capable of being legitimate literature. Here, we'll find a wide-ranging discussion of the comic artform and its implications, as well as a very useful introduction to the genre's lexicon: [PDF]

    Keith Haring poses with one of his graffiti pieces in the NYC subway system.
    Finally, we'll take a comparative look at several pieces of art criticism written in response to the same body of work: specifically "Keith Haring: 1978–1982," a wonderfully-constructed 2011 show highlighting the early development of the celebrated pop iconographer, which was co-curated by Cincinnati's own Contemporary Arts Center and later traveled to the Brooklyn Museum (where most of these reviews are from):
    • Karen Rosenberg, "A Pop Shop for a New Generation: 'Keith Haring: 1978-1982' at Brooklyn Museum," The New York Times [link] (related slideshow [link])
    • Rachel Wolff, "Where the Radiant Baby Was Born," New York Magazine [link]
    • Matt Morris, "You Don't Know Keith," CityBeat [link]

    Monday, January 16, 2017

    Mon. January 23 — Studying Poetry


    As we've discussed in class already, there's a certain bias inherent to our contemporary canons privileging prose — and specifically fiction (and even more specifically, the novel) — over all other genres. This was not always the case. If you were to take a traditional literary criticism course (i.e. one using a venerable text like Hazard Adams' Critical Theory Since Plato) most of your readings would be what might reasonable called explorations of poetics up until well into the 19th century, since that was dominant literary genre.

    Nonetheless, poetry does occupy a somewhat marginalized place in the present, and is somewhat unfairly notorious for being both intimidating and impenetrable. As a poet, I'm disheartened by this characterization — which often, I think, is rooted in the disjuncture between traditional verse and more adventurous modern poetic forms, along with the misconception that you can "answer" this sort of poetry as if it was a riddle. Instead of there being one correct interpretation, there's a lot of room for individual response, but that can be a scary prospect, particularly when you're not very comfortable or familiar with the genre. So, for the sake of making you more comfortable, I present the following resources:


    First, I've put together a basic set of Tools for Analyzing Poetry, which I often give to classes as a resource, that offers two approaches for readers to make their way through a poem: the first, a very rudimentary, brick-by-brick method that works its way from the most basic details to overall understanding; the second an excellent set of questions borrowed by poet and critic Ann Lauterbach. There are also some general instructions regarding the proper quotation and citation of poetry in academic writing.

    In addition to that, I'd like you to read a few short poetics essays by a handful of notable 20th/21st century American poets, and in each case I've provided a few representative poems from each so that you can explore the relationship between their ideas as expressed in their prose vs. those in poetic form:

    Adrienne Rich
    Adrienne Rich
    • "Someone is Writing a Poem" [link]
    • "Diving Into the Wreck" [link] [video] [MP3]
    • "What Kind of Times Are These" [link] [MP3]
    • "Delivered Clean" [link]

    Frank O'Hara
    • "Personism: a Manifesto" [PDF]
    • "A Step Away from Them" [link]
    • "Personal Poem"[link]
    • "Poem ['Lana Turner Has Collapsed']" [link] [audio]
    • "The Day Lady Died" [link] [video]
    • "Ave Maria" [link]

    Charles Bernstein
    • "The Difficult Poem" [link]
    • "Against National Poetry Month As Such" [link]

    Finally, because the sonic aspects of poetry, whether performed or recorded, are an oft-neglected but important characteristic of the medium, I humbly offer up my observations on Charles Bernstein's 1976 tapework piece, "Class" (this excerpt is taken from a longer article, with the opening paragraphs followed by my discussion of this specific piece). I do so not because it's particularly brilliant, but rather because it's close at hand. 


    º º º

    One last tool, not to be read for Wednesday, but rather filed away for future use — the Poetry Foundation's excellent glossary of poetic terms that covers five basic categories: forms and types, rhythm and meter, schools and periods, techniques and figures of speech, and theory and criticism.

    Wednesday, January 11, 2017

    Some Resources on Canonization and Prize Culture

    You might ask yourself why UC thinks it worthwhile to put vinyl transfers
    of great authors on its fine corrugated temporary learning spaces.

    Aside from the formal canon-building described in today's reading, there are more subtle processes that enshrine (and exclude) works of literature from various field ands eras.

    One of the more common methods, inside and outside of academia, is the simple act of list-making, from the 54-volume Great Books of the Western World series, first published in 1952 by Encyclopædia Britannica, to more recent lists like the Modern Library 100 from 1998 (with separate lists for fiction and non-fiction), the BBC's "The Big Read" List from 2003, and Time Magazine's All-Time 100 Novels (published in 2010, and, despite its name, only covering books published since Time's launch in 1923).

    More idiosyncratic versions of this phenomenon show up on our newsfeeds all the time: cf. Flavorwire's recent "A College Curriculum on Your Bookshelf: 50 Books for 50 Classes" or Buzzfeed's "How Well Read Are You?" quiz.

    Another sort of list-making  is tied to prize culture. In the US we typically recognize three major literary prizes given annually in various genres: the Pulitzer Prizethe National Book Award, and the National Book Critics Circle Award. Britain has the Man Booker Prize, which recently (and controversially opened to non-UK authors), Canada has the Griffin Poetry Prize, and there are many other national and/or regional prizes, grants, etc.

    One might also consider career-long awards such as the Nobel Prize in Literaturethe MacArthur Foundation Prize (colloquially known as the "genius grant"), and Guggenheim Fellowships, along with literature grants from the National Endowment for the Arts.

    If you're interested in reading more about this process — which has generated a lot of ink over the past several decades from both sides of the debate — here are a few titles worth looking into:
    • Allan Bloom, The Closing of the American Mind: How Higher Education Has Failed Democracy and Impoverished the Souls of Today's Students
    • Andrew Hartman, A War for the Soul of America: A History of the Culture Wars
    • James Atlas, Battle of the Books: The Curriculum Debate in America
    • Barbara Herrnstein Smith, Contingencies of Value: Alternative Perspectives for Critical Theory
    • Jim English, The Economy of Prestige: Prizes, Awards, and the Circulation of Cultural Value