Tolkien's Gown

I'm going to just post a selection of my notes on this book. I really liked it. I was going to not mention it in case I wanted to give it for a Christmas present or two, but on reflection I think it's probably not as exciting to any one else as to me. :) Oh well.

Here's its citation:

Gekoski, Rick. Tolkein’s Gown & Other Stories of Great Authors and Rare Books. London: Constable, 2004.

And my notes:

This is so far the only book I’ve actually bought here, and I’m not sure whether I can actually get away with counting it as course reading because it feels more like candy. But it’s about books and bibliophilia, and the book trade, albeit the contemporary book trade. But I am interested in the contemporary book trade as well, after all. I mean, I would like to know when mass markets came into being, and how the promotion of books with movie covers—like LOTR and Pride and Prejudice have affected already established books… So I can get away with at least reading the introduction for “class,” right?

Besides, this book has a special place in my heart and in the history of me coming to Birmingham. I heard Rick Gekoski give a talk at Vassar, in the Class of 1951 Reading Room in our library in the spring of 2004. He was partly promoting this book, which he said had the title Tolkein’s Gown in the UK, but his American publisher had changed it without telling him to something else—Amazon tells me it’s Nabokov’s Butterfly, which seems to not really solve the problem—because people unfamiliar with Oxford might think the title implied Tolkein was a transvestite. I say, he can take it; come on. And it’d probably boost sales. Besides, do you think people who don’t know about Oxford gowns are really going to be buying a book about rare book dealing? Maybe that’s a snobby thing to say….

Oh, but I was going to say, Rick Gekoski is one of the reasons I came here. I was still sort of trying to decide whether to come or to do high school teaching, and I heard this talk, and he was talking about books, and the rareness of the books, and the inscriptions in the front—marginalia, anyone?—and I was just thinking, “wow. I’d love to do what he does for a living. Handle all these awesome books—the actual original and significant editions, not just the Penguin or Oxford or whatever. Except maybe not without the whole buying and selling thing…. Kind of like the Bham Text and Book MA….” And the rest is history.

...

Many of Gekoski’s chapters seem to be a somewhat odd gluing together of personal essay and scholarly work. However, his prose style is marvelous, and has made me laugh out loud several times this evening.

I really want to get him to autograph my book now. I wonder where he’s based…. Google says he’s in Bloomsbury… this is starting to get concrete. I think I should go to bed before I do anything rash like email him and ask if I can stop by and get him to autograph my book.

GRE subject test

Have been studying for the test by taking a practice and was suddenly struck that what I have to be careful of on test day is not letting out the sort of comments I've been muttering to myself, like "Plot? There is no plot! It's Endgame!" Or an "eee" when I read a particularly nice passage from Henry V.

It's also really freaking long!

And I won't be able to take breaks on the day to post in my blog. Back to the grindstone.

Bookbinding

specifically, The History of Bookbinding as a Mirror of Society, which is what I should be reading instead of posting. But I really can't spend all day inside reading... so I'll spend part of it inside posting! Alicia suggested that I go for a walk, which does sound appealing, but I can't quite recconcile myself to it... part of the fun of walks for me is always chatting with someone, but there's no one to chat with as everyone is gone and about... I guess I could have offered to walk to campus with Alicia, as a matter of fact... hmm, that would have been fun. But oh well. I'm actually getting some good stuff done on my writing sample. Much crossing out and rewriting extensively in the margins.

Special Collections is so much fun! Don't know if I have made that sufficiently clear... Spent large quantities of Monday and Tuesday there. Looking at old books. Mmmmm, books. Can't share the complete awesomeness of the experience of holding one with you, but I will share this really cool poem by Ben Jonson (I was definitely looking at the first edition of his Works!). Note the weird spelling. I want to read up on the history of spelling. Aren't I a dork? Yep. But if anyone has suggestions, let me know. I mean, I can also find stuff for myself. But history of the English language is rather a large field to browse in (wow, that's an unintentional working metaphor!), so guidance would be appreciated if availible.

Here's the poem, entitled

“To My Booke-seller.”

“Thou, that mak’ſt gaine thy end, and wiſely well,

Call’ſt a booke good, or bad, as it doth ſell,

Vſe [Use?] mine ſo, too: I giue thee leaue. But craue

For the lucks ſake, it thus much fauour haue.

To lue vpon thy ſtall, till it be ſought;

Not offer’d, as it made ſute to be bought;

Nor haue my title-leafe on poſts, or walls,

Or in cleft-ſticks, aduanced to make calls

For termers, or ſome Clarke-like ſeruing-man

Who ſcarſe can ſpell th’hard names: whoſe knight leſſ can.

If, without theſe vile arts, it will not ſell,

Send it to Bucklerſ-bury, there ’twill, well.”

Jonson, Ben. Works. London: William Stansby, 1616. 2 vols. p. 767. Yes, I'm lazy about my citation, but at least I'm citing at all on a blog, and I got the relevant information in there.

The last line was glossed for my by my professor: Buclersbury was a district for grocers and such--they would have used the book for waste-paper.
Hmm, having slight formatting interestingness. Blast you, cut and paste!

Ok; I think that's my cue to sign off. And go back to Mirjam M. Foot. Author of bookbinding book.

that almost rhymed

The Jewlery Quarter, basically. It has lots o' shops. 

The Chamberlain Clock in the Jewlery Quarter 

Weekend

Had a very good weekend, actually. And it even looks as if I'm going to get my 30 hours of work in this week as well. Hurrah for balancing work and play. Which is what I'm attempting to do at the moment by writing this post instead of finishing L'Aparation du Livre, or The Coming of the Book (I'm actually reading it in English, even though I feel as though I should read it in French, but I like the French title better...). And I'm currently trying to decide whether to go grocery shopping this afternoon when the stores may be a bit bare or tomorrow when I'll have to steal some time from Special Collections... I'm thinking I'll go today, but I'm not sure. I'm also really sleepy, for reasons that will become clear.

So, on Friday after I wrote my post, I did make a curry (hurrah for enough food for three meals--actually more probably--the leftover curry features again later in my story), then spent a really long time agonizing with Caroline and Tanja over where to go--whether to go to Broad Street, which is where the clubs are, or not, or which club, or whether to have a place in mind.... And then what to wear.... so intense..... Concluded that my wardrobe is very schlumpy-college-student. Have since revised my conclusion, but think I might still investigate more on how to tread the fine line between lookng nice and looking hip -- the Europeans seem to do it effortlessly. Grr. But many British girls wear stuff clubbing that would make me feel very cold and very self-conscious. Hmm. Anyway. We eventually went to this pub in Selly Oak that Thanasis recommended -- and we scooped him up along the way. The pub is nice--very popular, but large, with different sections. We ended up by the TV and pool table -- Thanasis kept having to move so he wouldn't be hit by the end of a cue. Nice thing about this pub is that lots of people from the uni go there, so we ran into some people we knew. I actually ended up talking with Andy from the Postgrad Association (not to be confused with Andy from Med Studies, and certainly not to be confused with the "real" Andy -- whom I miss rather terribly). Had a very enjoyable conversation. Yay! I'm making friends... Pub closed, as they do here, at 11, and Thanasis invited us to a party one of his Greek friends was having. Went for a few minutes to keep Tanja company and actually ran into someone else I knew, a Ukranian named Andreas (I'm noticing a pattern...). Then came back around 1ish.

Got up on the early side on Saturday (8) to get some work done in the morning before going to the city center with Alicia and Tanja. Managed to do so. :) Went to the Jewlery Quarter, which is a historic jewlery-making district. Bet you'd never have guessed. Had a very nice lunch at a little cafe there. Actually, I had a traditional English breakfast, which was lovely: two eggs, hash browns, sausages, bacon (the British version, which is sort of like fried ham...), baked beans and toast. What, no tomato? It was very good, but I could never have eaten it all for breakfast. Oh, and tea. Very important. The restrant was very cozy, with a fire in the corner. :) And the waitress had a lovely Brummie accent. No, it's not a contradition in terms.

After lunch we browsed the shop windows. Hmm, should we get a diamond-studded watch that costs as much as our year's tuiton? Maybe when Tanja marries Robbie Willaims (long story). And we went to the Museum of the Jewlery Quarter, which was really nice--basically a jewlery shop, left just as it was in 1981 -- but most of the shop was much older. Reminded me of all the printers' shops I've been reading about.... wood... arcane tools... dies... Quite fun.

In the evening, I went to the pub with live music in the city center with Simon (hi, Simon!). Really fun to chat. The band was okay -- covers of stuff like Bob Marley.... Came back here with Simon and ate leftover curry while attempting to explain my musical tastes (with musical examples!). Played him the Yafeyfiah CD -- he was really impressed. So, passing the compliament on to you Yafeyfiyahers out there.

Hmmm.... it's now nearly 2, so I need to decide soon whether to go grocery shopping... I'll leave you on that note. (La!)

Rain...

A Brummie named Andy from the MPhil in Medieval Studies told me today that the British do wet and nasty very well. Just looked at that again. I mean weather, hence the title of the post. Sheesh. And they have been all day. Huge wind with slight drizzle.... so yucky! But I slept much better last night... Might have to alter plans of going club/pubbing tonight...

Sorry I haven't been posting as much lately; it's because I've actually been getting some work done! Amazing! But not as much perhaps as I should be doing... only worked about 2 hours today... not counting class. But I went to Special Collections and looked at a preeety book... it's my assignment for next week's class on the Hand-Press period. Mmm, leather tooling.... And random marginalia.

Should go make myself a curry for dinner. Correction: should work intensely tonight and catch up on my 3 hours that I should have done today. But I'm not going to. Hah.

I'm a cute American!

On a lighter note, I did two Americanisms today that made Alice happy. One was when I said I was hoping to lick this cold. She looked at me like I was nuts. Later I'd said I'd done something funky to my knee. She said, "Funky?" and laughed. Makes me happy that I can repay the British in kind... Later that evening, Nathan said something about seeing a professor in his vest. I said, "You mean vest as in undershirt?" I sort of thought that was what he meant, because a sweatervest or something didn't suit the tone of voice he was using. In other linguistic news, I unconsciously told Andy over the phone that I'd "ticked" a box--and then marveled at my own Britishism....

Oh, and the best thing this evening: I bought a round at the pub for Alice and oh-dear-I-think-his-name's-Matt, who had each bought a round for me last week. So I managed to pay them back without actually buying a drink for anyone else! For the rest of the evening, bore in mind that when people offer me a drink it's very nice of them but it's still ultimately buying a drink myself because I must buy them a drink eventually. With that in mind, I bought a pint for myself initially, and just nursed it through the evening. Still, we were at the pub from about five thirty to eight thirty... am contemplating smuggling in a sandwich next time because A) it's kind of late for dinner at past 9 when I get back to my flat and B) I have difficulty holding my alcohol at the best of times, least of all on an empty stomach. With this pint I did manage to smack my hand on the table in an animated gesture and to kind of fall over a chair when racing around to look at a third edition of Finnigan's Wake. But I think--hope--those could be attributed to simple klutziness. Trouble with the English dept. crew is that a lot of them know each other already because most of the masters students went here for undergrad. So lots of gossiping about profs I haven't met and/or talking about funding packages that I don't understand... But it's good to be hanging out with people. Gets me out of my room, which I was in for the rest of the day.

Have no classes tomorrow (because my Tuesday class is meeting Friday) but am thinking of A) going to the library and B) going to the City Centre with Alicia and Tanja. Good to get out of the house.

Oh, forgot to mention. Part of the reason for the untoward silence last week is that I met with Gillian (my programme coordintor) and asked her exactly how much reading I should be doing a week--600 pages, 400 pages, what--and she said I should do about 30 hours of independent work a week. So I've started keeping a log. It's difficult for me to work the 5 hours a day I've calculated I'll need to work--giving myself a day's worth off for the weekends.... So far the most productive I've been was yesterday, when I worked 4 and 3 quarters of an hour. But I did four and a half, plus the postgrad seminar and the pub today, so I'm pleased with myself.

Shock

I just got an email from Pat about what's going on at Vassar. I'm really unsettled by it, and want to try to talk (or type) it out.

Here's a link to the news story:
http://www.insidehighered.com/news/2005/09/26/vassar
In a nutshell, MICA circulated this periodical called The Imperialist that ran an article about race. I'm just going to quote from the above news story to give you a sense: "“How is diversity achieved,” reads the article “Race and Freedom,” written under the nom de plume “Constantine,” in the most recent Imperialist, when minority and gay and lesbian students “are voluntarily confining themselves to ghettoes” of cultural centers created for them. “I find the objective of diversity to be utterly meritless, suggesting that our colleges should become some zoological preserve in some paternalistic attempt [to] benefit our ‘non diverse’ students.”" There was also an offensive cartoon, described in the news story. This whole thing has sparked a conflagration of stuff, including the mention of Vassar students' names on a neo-Nazi website.

Now I'm trying to sort out what I think.

First of all, as the title of the post suggests, shock. I'm so used to thinking of Vassar as a cuddly place where there is liberty and justice for all. Ideals of equality and toleration and all that.

On the other hand, even as I write that, I know that Vassar is not perfect, and even when I was there I knew it wasn't and knew that race at Vassar is a complicated topic, and one I was uncomfortable about although I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

Here's part of why, I think.

I should preface this by saying that I do not in any way agree with the majority of "Constantine"'s views, particularly those articulated in his comments on the news blog I linked to. Least of all do I agree with his comments that it doesn't matter what words you use. It matters a lot.

But I do think that the point he was making relates to a point I've been trying to get my own head around in terms of race at Vassar for years. And it's a complicated point and talking about it may get me into trouble with some people. I'm going to try to watch my own language, but I also have to get myself lunch and to class, so take this as an informal working-out, not a highly polished statement.

For one thing, I think race at Vassar is a problem. Partly because a lot of people either don't think it's a problem or are so fixated on trying to convince people it's a problem that they lose their own effectiveness.

One of the earliest indications I saw -- and perhaps should have thought more about -- is that I was very active in diversity organizations in high school (went to a bunch of conferences, including a national conference, did a lot of agitating at my school), but when I hit the ground at Vassar, I didn't get involved in any diversity stuff. The failing is not entirely Vassar's; some is my own, but I do think that one of the problems about race at Vassar is the assumption that I picked up on that diversity agitating or activism is done by minorities. I was not a minority.

Ok, that last statment needs to be unpacked.
I've been over this ground a lot with myself--true, I am female, Jewish, disabeled, whatever, but I am white. I have no immediately evident physical markings of a minority (ironically in England I have my accent). I am straight (even though I do believe strongly in the spectrum, it's a fact that I've only ever dated guys and chances are I only ever will) and so don't have to put up with all that danger/prejudice. So even though I got involved in agitating for the learning disability commmunity (like, trying to make a learning disability community), the fact is that I'm in the privledged position of only being a minority when I choose to identify myself as one. Which makes a big difference.

So, back to what I was saying. It's not that I tried really hard to affiliate myself with ALANA and QCVC and stuff--although I did join the Asian Students Association--but I got the vibe that I wouldn't be super-welcome unless I really proved myself or something. And so I ended up doing what everyone else did, basically, operating largely in racial and ethnic cliques. True, I had an excuse for being in a Jewish clique because of Yafeyfiyah, but still. I often wished I had more friends of different races and stuff -- although whenever I did that I'd often realize that my friends are more diverse than I sometimes realize, which is probably a good thing because I'm not aware of them as racial types -- but what'm I going to do, go up to someone and say, "Hi. I want to be friends with you because you're black." No! Aargh.

I think a lot of the problem with race at Vassar is that no one talks about it. And everyone's afraid to talk about it because they're afraid of sounding racist. I do think that that's an issue that the stupid guy was trying to get at in his article, although maybe that's giving him too much credit. In another way of looking at it, the only people who can talk about race at Vassar are those who feel innoculated against looking racist because they are in a racial minority or those who feel that they don't care if they look racist and so they might as well be inflamatory, like our friend Constantine. Of course, this doesn't count talking about race in an academic context, which can be done with only a little less tiptoing and making sure that you don't offend anyone.

Not that I'm saying that no one should be offended by discussions of race. It's very easy to be actually offensive, and it's very easy to take offense. I've been on both sides -- I think. I know I've been offended, and chances are I've been offensive.

I think part of the answer is to acknowledge the offensive potential and to try to work around it--to be aware of one's own ignorance.

Let me explain. I think that one of the best examples of dialouges about race and diversity in general that I've encountered has been during International Students Welcome Week here at Birmingham. It was great. Everyone would ask each other questions and not be too afraid that they were sounding offensive. "What's it like in Maritius? What does your town look like?" "What's it like in India? I've heard the standard of living is lower." "What's it like in America? Is it like on Friends?" "What religion do you think I am?" "How are Canada and America different?" "What language do you speak there? I feel like I should know this, but..." "Is it weird to wear the veil? [to an Iranian woman] Is it weird to not wear it here?" And everyone would explain, or be confused, and work out their confusion together. All of us discovering what I'm reading about in Said's Orientalism--in order to explain to someone else what your culture is like you have to have some idea of what their culture is like. That's not what Said is saying at all, but it's related. :) And it's hard work. And I did have a really good discussion about race with my friend from Kenya. She was talking about what it was like coming to the Bham airport and being the only one getting searched and wondering if it was because she was black--assuming it probably was. And we were talking together about that Brazilian guy who got shot in London and whether he was stupid or justified in running from the police... And she didn't say or imply, if you diagree with me, you're clearly racist... And later we were going down the escalator in the Bullring and she told me that I was the first white person that she'd really gotten to know, not a teacher. And I was surprised and looked around at the other people with us, my two closest friends at Bham to date, and realized that they weren't, strictly speaking, white either... And I hadn't really thought about it... in that I was thinking of them as complex people, different from me in many ways.

Does that make any sense?

So I hope this experience will give me the courage to admit ignorance, to ask people questions, and to be open when they ask me questions, to try not to be offended, and to look for the educational moments: the moments to educate, the moments to be educated.

And I do lapse, too.... and I understand the motives for racial cliquing. The short story of my Yom Kipper is that for the evening service I was 30 minutes late because I couldn't get a cab and it was raining and it was really frustrating because no one around was Jewish and no one knew what it meant for me to be missing Kol Nidre, the most important prayer in the year. And the next day I found a little Jewish community and I felt at home a bit more. But it was also good to leave that and go back to my little international flat... and the Jewish community was also cool because they were all British and different from me...

I don't know. It's all so complicated. But I think I feel a bit clearer on it now.

Tidbit

Just another quick story from tonight, the sort of thing that makes me happy.... and amused at life in general. So I was walking back from the pub with Kate and talking about the relative safetly of Birmingham in general and our bit of Birimingham in particular, and we got to the big roundabout near my flat, and as we were crossing it, we passed this guy holding a beer can, who said, "You all right?" (which is the British equivilent of "How's it going?"--took me by surprise at first). I said, "Fine! How are you?" He nodded and passed along. Kate turned to me and said, "Do you know him?" looking a bit scared and incredulous. I said, "Oh, yeah, I met him last night." :) And I had, too, at the breakfast at the rabbi's (which I swear I'll write a post about tomorrow, although it would be quite a nice stylaistic device to have it just tricle out in asides in other posts). You know you live in a smallish community when. And it was actually perfectly all right. But I think Kate was a bit taken aback; she'd just finished telling me that she thought the area we were in was about as safe as you're going to get. So she walked me the rest of the way back to my flat. :) It was nice to talk with her, though. :)

Ok, I swear I'm going to bed now.

Kind of a lot...

It's been a long time since my last post in L-blogland... considering before this I was posting about every day if not more frequently. But I've actually been doing some classwork, which is more of a change than I'd like to think.... and had Yom Kipper, which was intense but good, as I'll probably tell you... although maybe not tonight because I just started to get a bit sleepy, which is good.

In fact, I might start with tonight and work backwards. Had a good night; went to a Postgraduate and Mature Students Association event in the bar in the Staff House on campus; had half a pint of bitter and a lemonade (which is like Sprite, not lemonade in the American sens), and so I shouldn't feel as addled as I do presently, but I think it's still the aftereffects of the fast which I haven't yet told you about. I mean, I don't feel drunk, just spacy and not really tired. But kind of hungry. Anyhow, had a quiet pub night sort of thing, ended up very nice with four people sitting around talking about Britishness... The two Brits explained what a traditional English roast meal was, and how to do it, and I described a Thanksgiving dinner. Bit o' surprise: they were shocked at the idea of pumkin pie, and even more so at the idea of it being for dessert--or pudding, as they would say. (Pudding is a genaric term for dessert here.) They were like, "Vegetable pies are savory, aren't they?" And I was like, "No, it's sweet, with condensed milk and cinimon and stuff." Told them that if Andy (one of the guys, not mine) makes us a roast dinner, I'll make pumpkin pie if I can use his mixer and pie plate. That'll be fun if it works out. Andy is very nice as is Kate; they're the two Brits. He was explaining the etiquette of drink buying/round buying. Very nicely, as he'd just bought me a drink, and then I was like, "what exactly is this whole drink buying etiquette thing?" and he explained that it's assumed if you're out with your mates, someone buys you a drink and the next time you buy them a drink. I said, I didn't think it was like that in the US, although I've not done bars really there--so correct me if I'm wrong, guys. I said I thought people buy their own drinks, and the only time someone will offer to buy you a drink is if they're hitting on you. He hurriedly assured me that was not his intention--although I hope I wasn't laying it on too thick because one of the first things I'd told him was that it was easy for me to remember his name because it was my boyfriend's name, so that was abundently clear..... Speaking of confusing etiquette.... but anyway we sorted it out. It seems to me a friendly system but a confusing one--now I have to remember who's bought me drinks and be sure to buy them drinks again... Makes me a bit uncomfortable, but I know it shouldn't do. Look, I made a Britism! We also discussed the multiple meanings of Cheers, which Andy said was really just one meaning.... sounds philisophical almost...

Ok, that's me. Might go to Stratford tomorrow--or maybe to the city center for grocery shopping. Gee, which sounds more exciting?

Ok, now I'm properly tired......

Oxfordity

So much to say, I'm going to have to be concise.

I like Oxford. A lot. This doesn't convey what I mean.... it's like an almost viscoral reaction: this is where everything has happened. Even though that's not really true... When I first got there and Renata was showing me around, I was starting to think, maybe I made the wrong decision not to even apply here beyond the Rhodes.... and to remember that the first time I looked at the Oxford website with thoughts of going there to grad school, tears literally came into my eyes I wanted it so much. But on much reflection, I decided I made the right decision. Oxford is a wonderful place to visit, and if I possibly can I will do research there, if not this year then later, but Birmingham is what I need this year. And Birmingham is wonderful in many ways that Oxford--at least as far as I can tell, and I won't pretend to have plummed its depths--isn't. For instance--and I'm just going to do this briefly not to knock Oxford but to give you some sense of Bham--Birmingham is really a city, and the university, while having a distinct campus, is definitely part of that city. Walking from the main quad back to my flat this morning, a car stopped and asked me (well, its driver asked me) how to get to the Edgbaston Golf Club. I had no idea, but that gives you some sense of the somewhat integration of city and uni. Oh, and I pass uniformed schoolkids going home on my way to the quad sometimes. Oxford seems to be very ivory tower and walled campus. Which is attractive to me, but that very attraction is one of the reasons I think it's good for me to be away from it, at least for this year. There is actually a world outside of the library, and I want to experience it while not being swallowed up by it. If that isn't too horribly cliche. Does that make any sense?

So, it was lovely to walk around Oxford. I have definitely fallen in love with it, and I look forward to returning. I am more resolute than ever that I want to do research at the Bod this year. My tutor as much as told me that that would be a good idea, and I think she's absolutely right. Hurrah.

And it was lovely to see Renata. Sooo good. A bit of home, a bit of Vassar, but more than that. A friend, a real one whom I've known for over a month and whom I trust and to whom I don't have to explain a lot of things. But it's interesting--I was expecting to miss Vassar a lot when I saw her, and I actually didn't. It's been stealing over me the last week or two.... I told Stephanie when we were walking home from the grocery store on Friday that if someone appeared with a magic wand and told me I could go back to Vassar and live on campus and take classes and be a student, I would say no. I mean, it was still a wonderful place for me and I love it intensely and tell anyone and everyone here who'll listen as much, but I'm ready for graduate work. I like it. And I like living in a city--although that doesn't mean I necessarily want to continue to do so.

So, I've told you a lot about introspection, but not a lot about Oxford. Well, what can I really say about it that hasn't been said a hundred times? Prettiness... Oh, and Renata showed my Blackwell's. They're a bookstore. An amazing bookstore. I love them. As I said to Renata, a piece of my heart will stay there. I... can't really describe it.... Floors and floors. Rare books. New books. Used books. Huge stock. Beautiful displays. History. In the sense that the bookstore itself is an institution. Like everything in Oxford, for better or for worse, it seems to me.

Quick note about today. We had the first real meeting of the Postgraduate Forum. A professor from Smith gave a talk about his upcoming book about visits to or invocations of spirits from hell in 20th-century poetry. Very good talk. I was really impressed. I hope I can someday learn to give a talk like that--very organized and focused and well-articulated with an easy manner and a sense of humor. When will I ever be organized or focused? Afterwards, he opened it up for questions, and only the faculty was (were? Was. I think) asking questions, and I kept thinking, a student should ask a question; he's probably come here partly to see what Bham students are like; I remember going to Kyoto with Mom and Dad and the students didn't ask questions after the talks and they were disappointed; I should ask a question, but I can't think of anything.... and then, suddenly during a question posed by my advisor, I thought of a question, and I raised my hand to ask it. He didn't see my hand, but I determined to ask it at the next opportunity. I got really nervous; my heart was pounding and my arms fell asleep. I don't normally get this nervous about speaking in public. I asked the question, although it took a few goes to get my voice working--I have a cold. It's kind of hard to explain the question without explaining his talk and I've gone on far too long already, but basically I pointed out that one element of his talk didn't fit very neatly in with his thesis and thematic material, and I suggested a way in which it might relate. He picked up on it, and actually came up to me in the pub afterward and said it was a very good question and he hadn't thought of it that way before. That was what he'd said to a few of the faculty members as well--made me feel grown-up. Or something.

Ok; don't know if that was concise (who was just talking about organization and focus?), but it's my couple o' days.

The same street, but with a different autofocus point, and with a corner of scaffolding--Oxford is modernizing. 

An Oxford street at sunset--something about dreaming spires--what's that from? 

Radcliff(e?) Camera and the corner of the Bod (Renata demonstrated the abreviation, so now I can solve my spelling problems). 

We can talk, part 2!

So, I also got a program called VoipeBuster whereby I can call landlines on my computer for free! :) Unfortunately, I can't call mobiles. :( But email me your landline info if you have one, and when it's good to talk, and I will call you! :) (Although I do have these pesky things called classes... and reading... Oh, and remember the time difference...)

Talk to you soon!

I'm in love with the new Pride and Prejudice movie

and so I want to tell you about it. I think it's not out in the US, right? Then once it gets out, you must all see it and tell me what you think. I'll try not to give anything major away, but if you don't know the story, you might not want to read this. In fact, if you don't know the story, you should go out and read the novel by Jane Austen immediately. Put down your muffin and go to the library. I see you. You're still holding your muffin!!

Or doesn't anyone else eat breakfast in front of the computer? I don't do it all the time, but sometimes... It's your fault, Rebecca.

Ok. So, Pride and Prejudice. So much better than I had dared to hope. In my opinion, so much better than the A&E version. But let's talk about this. My problem with the A&E has always been that it's fairly true to the letter of the Austen novel, but not really that true to the spirit. Lizzy isn't feisty enough, Jane isn't nearly pretty enough, and much as I love him, Colin Firth is far too sweet-faced from the start to make a convincing Darcy. Also, it should be avowed (just to lay all my cards on the table) that I am of the P&P-is-very-similar-to-Jane-Eyere-because-they're-both-based-on-Pamela school. And I do think that Darcy is at core pretty Rochester-like, and Mr.-B-like, come to think of it, although not nearly the rake Mr. B is. BTW, as a side note, I read Tess for the first time this summer and thought, wow, the first volume of Tess is really Pamela except the Mr. B character doesn't back off when she's unconscious... Creeeepy!!!

Ok, returning from Victorian Litland.... sorry.

Even though I certainly have caveats, both historical and literary, with the new film, I feel as if it is really true to the spirit of the novel, and it reproduces many of my favorite scenes word-for-word. And it's just so beautifully shot and designed! The texture is gorgeous. I felt that from the very first few scenes--the balls are awesome, so many details of the set and props are right (although as I have discovered in my Production of Texts class, Mr. Bennet could not afford to own a quarter of the number of books that are shown in his study in one scene, they are gorgeous books, so I forgive the producers), and so many of the shots are awesome. I mean, it does go over the top at a few moments (there was some giggling at one shot of gorgeous English countryside with Lizzy standing on a cliff--although it did make me lean over and whisper to Stephanie, "We must go there!"), but on the whole....

And can I just say that what's-his-face-who-plays-Darcy--ok, I have to google him because he's way too good to get just that epithet--Matthew MacFadyen, was incredibly awesome. I really feel that he got the balance in Darcy of pride and sensibility spot-on. He didn't make the mistake I feel Colin Firth made of making Darcy likeable from the get-go. Although if you know Darcy's explanation of events at the very close of the novel, you can easily read that storyline in the film. But I think that someone seeing the film who hadn't read the book (or seen the A&E) would not be sure of Darcy's actual character until late in the game. Which is as it should be, if you ask me. Which you didn't. Details.

And Judi Dench is awesome as Lady Catherine. And I really think that Keira Knightly does an excellent job as Lizzy. She really has the fire and self-satisfaction and subversiveness that I think Lizzy is all about. The scenes where Lizzy and Darcy engage in battles of wits are phenomenal--and for the most part straight out of the novel.

And both proposal scenes are awesome, although they did veer from the book a bit--I think the preview included the line "You have bewitched me, body and soul," which I'm almost positive was not in the book--but it's so Gothic. And it should be gothic, if you ask me... I mean, look at Northanger Abbey.

Ok, I'm pretty much done geeking out. Although I'm going to go see if I can find images to do a desktop collage now...

You guys have to let me know what you think when you see it.

We can talk!

Just to let you know, I got Skype, which is a program whereby you can talk (like actually talk--voice and audio) over the Internet for free! The only catch is, you have to buy a headset. Unless your computer has a built-in microphone. Just go to www.skype.com. My username (it's like AIM in that you have to know someone's username to call them) is the same as the first part of my email address (before the @).

Talk to you soon!

Coming attractions: my review of the new Pride and Prejudice movie, and I'm going to Oxford to visit Renata on Sunday!

Lazyish day....

I didn't leave my house until after 3 today. Oh, unless you count going outside in the slight rain to press the Silence button twice. Stupid alarm. But the dorm manager is actually working on it, or says she is, which makes me happy. And the Silence button works, although it did start up again a few hours later, but it worked again. Hurrah. And I took out the trash while I was at it, which makes me virtuous.

(Former housemates think, "Since when does she ever take out the trash?" Although that's not quite true; I did take out the trash a few times last year. And whenever I did, I made sure someone saw me. What's the point of being virtuous if no one knows?)

But I have a new draft of my writing sample! Draft 8, to be exact. Oy. But it's starting to firm up. Surprisingly. Now I think I might actually cave in and buy a printer because I really want to look at the thing in hard copy, and I don't want to pay--let's see, what's 5p times 11 pages.... 55p for a hard copy I'm just going to mark up and recycle. That's like a dollar!

In the culinary corner, I made up a new recepie (or however you spell it) today. I made pasta, then tossed it with cream cheese, marinara sauce (from a jar), leeks, and smoked salmon. Officially using up my smoked salmon. Yay! It had passed its "sell by" date. But not by much! And I feel fine.... Oh, and the dish was good. :) It's funny; I get really into cooking things, and then I tend to eat them pretty quickly... often because no one's around to talk to and so pace the meal. Although there are often people around for dinner. We all cook seperately then sit around talking and eating and playing with the take-out menus people keep sending us in the mail. If we ever want to order out for curry, we'll be all set. And if we make an order of 20 pounds or more, we'll get a free bottle of wine! Won't that be.... nice.

And I had my first research methods class today. Two hours about writing a Master's Thesis. They were aiming it at the MPhils, who have to write 20,000 to 40,000-word essays (depending on whether they're in the A or B program--don't ask), as opposed to us Taught MAs, who only have to write 12,000 words. My English thesis was 14,294, and my music one was 9,842. So their average is over 12,000 words, and that was in one semester. I'm not worried about quantity. It's quality that's worrying me. Oh, and I also have two 8,000-word essays due in April; musn't forget about those. I think that the major difference between this thesis and my undergrad theses (particularly the English one) is that this is graduate-level work. Which means I a) need to do more comprehensive research and actually have a sense of the field, and b) have to actually turn out a product that is polished, focused and well-written. Considering I'm on Draft 8 of the writing sample based on my thesis, I think I do have a long way to go.

Some ideas I have for the thesis--and I might use the ones I don't use for the thesis for the 8,000-word essays--are the Sherlock Holmes stories, illustration in the 19th century more broadly, more on etiquette books (especially their quality, readership, cost, demographics, etc.), books owned and/or read by servants (I got onto it b/c of the servant etiquette books I saw, but I'm not sure how I'd go about researching it), Victorian pornography (hey, it's an academic interest--seriously, Walkowitz refers to it, and I'm intrigued), music printing, Victorian newspapers, or Shakespeare in the Victorian era. No way I could do all of these, and some of them are still far too broad. Also, some of them aren't very marketable to PhD programs.... although I'll have to ask around about that. For instance, I think an MA thesis about music printing wouldn't be so impressive to an English department. Victorian porn, on the other hand.... I don't know. Right now, the servant book idea is very intriguing. I also need to see what kinds of materials are availible to me. I know a lot of etiquette books are in the British Library, which I could access, but, practically speaking, I don't want to be running down to London all the time. Although it would be nice if there were a few volumes I could only get at the BL or the Bodlien (did I spell that right?)...

For a lazy day, it certainly generated a lot of writing! I'll try to restrain the babbling about academic matters--it's all so inchoate, anyway. Did I spell that one right? Definitely learned it quizzing Crystal on GRE vocab words with flashcards at our kitchen table, accompanied by Chris J---. Good times.

The Hippodrome? The Hippodrome.

So, I've had the "Taxi Song" from _On the Town_ in my head all day. Why? Because I had an interview this evening to be a Front-of-House Volunteer at the Bham Hippodrome, a big theater downtown that gets plays in from London and other travelling shows... Highlights of this season include Stomp, My Fair Lady, Jerry Springer the Opera, Edward Scissorhands, a Christmas Pantomime (which I'm really psyched about), and several ballets. If I get the position--I'll hear next week--I'll essentially usher and get to see the shows free! :) I'm excited.

The interview itself was... interesting.... I was actually the only postgrad there (btw, postgrad is British for graduate student... You're a postgrad if you're in the graduate school--don't ask me), which was a little odd, but I guess not everyone is as crazy in overcommitting as me. So we went around and said who we were and something about ourselves, then we had an exercise where we split into two teams and designed a paper airplane. Yep. A team-building thingy. Various rules, none of which are that imporant, except to say that I was in charge of actually building the airplane, and I used the method I honed in many rigerous years of making paper airplanes with my gum wrappers in French class. And we won! Yay! It's because of good, old-fashioned American ingenuity. Or a gluestick. Or something. And, yes, I am a sad, sad, and strangely competitive person. You hadn't figured that out yet?

In other news, I had my first real class of Production of Texts yesterday. Yes, to obervant people, this means I did actually go to class on Rosh Hashana, which I wouldn't normally do. You see, the thing is, it's the only meeting a week of my main course, and it was slated to be from 5 to 7pm. Well, I figured, 5 is close enought to sundown as makes little difference. But then my professor for this week (it's taught on a rotating basis) asked if we could move the time up to 4pm because he has a rather advanced case of diabetes and doesn't function too well late in the day. I said, of course, and only later realized that was the same day as Rosh Hashana. I thought for a moment: my religious scruples vs. his health needs.... no contest, really. And, besides, the class was so much fun it didn't really count as work. This is the class that only has two students. I think I like the other guy, Matt, by the way. He's kind of quiet... So, our professor basically gave us several old books and asked us what we thought of them. We observed what we thought the binding was made of, the quality of the paper, how we thought it was made, the price and social value, etc. And we talked more broadly about what defines the production of texts and what factors we should consider. By the way, the prof was the same Ian S--- whom I talked with at the party last week. He is a Victorianist and very interesting. He also has a way of pushing people (aka me) to back up my general statements, focus my ramblings, and investigate my platitudes. This is very helpful, although it keeps me on my toes and makes me realize how very much I have to learn. This is not altogether a bad thing. He doesn't do it in at all a mean way, and often I find that I rise to the occasion. He asked Matt and me to list what we thought was involved in the production of texts. I said "the social and cultural context," and he asked me what I meant by that, and really sort of pushed it. I found myself somewhat flustered; it was something I'd sort of come to take for granted at Vassar. But he also said, where do you draw the line on the cultural context? We can never know what it was actually like in any other period, so we're just reflecting what we think it was; we can never be objective. I said, of course we could never be objective; I never thought we could. That seemed to settle it for the moment, but it's still in the back of my mind....

I refined it a bit more in class today, in my Cultural Inquiry class (which, btw, had three people in it today, two auditors (myself included) and one person taking it for credit. But we had a good time). We were talking about the Frankfurt School, and I said that I think you always put your impression on a work when you form an argument about it; that's what the process of writing is about, isn't it? (This is something I've started to pick up from the British; ending sentences with a question that doesn't sound like a question. Kind of the reverse of the American habit of making a statment that sounds like a question--here it's a falling inflection.) You put your stamp on it; you include the examples that prove your point. There is no objectivity; you shouldn't try to pretend that there is. On the other hand, as both of the professors in question said, it's also good to approach--or try to approach--a text without a preconceived thesis--as Eamon G--- instructed me on my Wallace Stevens essay lo these many years ago (specifically one and a half). But ultimately you have to come up with a thesis that is your own.

I don't know where I'm going with this. It's one of my faults--and something I'm struggling with still in my writing sample--that I tend to get lost in my tangents and keep spirling up and away. Sometimes I find interesting things there, though....

One more factual thing--sorry about the wandering into muddled literary theorizing--or something. After my Cultural Inquiry class, the three of us students went out for coffee. I like the other two very much. Alice got her BA here in Bham last year, and she's doing an MPhil B (don't ask me what it is--I think it's between a taught MA and an MPhil A--that is, you take some classes but not as many as an MA, and you write a longer thesis) in Victorianism and Modernism, which is cool. Emma is actually in the MPhil in Cultural Inquiry, and she's a director for a BBC TV show. She's really interesting and down-t0-earth, despite the fact that everyone except for me seems really impressed with the actor she works with. She's leaving this really nice, high-profile--but also high-stress--job to go do an MPhil in Cultural Inquiry. Which is cool. This is going to be a fun class.

I made a salad tonight with baby spinich, apple, and Wensleydale cheese. And Newman's Own Balsamic vinigrette--oh, I knew there was something else I needed to put on my shopping list. I had a protein bar on the train to the Hippodrome and some crisps on the way back (remind me to tell you about the variety of weird-flavored chips they have here), but I wanted something real-tasting. It was quite yummy, actually.

And that's the story of me.

[Title should probably be something in Hebrew]

because I'm going to talk about my Rosh Hashana experience. But I'd have to pick a title in Hebrew based on my extremely limited knowledge, and I'd probably mispell it or at least mistransliterate it, and probably half of you wouldn't know what it meant, and a small percentage of you would internally correct me. So, I get the self-reflexive best of both worlds. Hah.

Disclaimer: I'm tired, so this may be less coherent even than usual.

So, last night I went to dinner with Rabbi Margaret J----, of the Progressive synagogue here. Turns out that in England, there's the Orthodox, the Reform and the Liberal movements. But the Reform movement is like our Conservative movement, and the Liberal movement is like our Reform. And the Progressive synagogue is Liberal and Reconstructionist. Ok, does anyone else's head hurt? And this is the drastically oversimplified version.

The big news about this synagogue is that its prayerbook has English bits that I actually like. Sorry, VC folks, but I find the
"Here we are
at the start of a new year.
Think of a tree.
God is like a tree
accepting
and non-judging
and possibly femine"
stuff a bit weird. [NB: this is not an actual quotation from the maxor (or whatever the Hebrew/Yiddish word for holiday prayer book is), but my impression and parody of the things I don't like about the maxor, namely its line breaks, oversimplification and use of words rarely more than one syllable, and attempts at political correctness. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm as feminist as the next guy or gal, and probably more so, but Judaism is pretty literally a patriarchal religion, and that's reflected in all the texts. I figure you can either run around changing all the texts like mad and proably extracting everything that's made them compelling as well as patriarchal, or you can say to yourself, yes, this is patriarchal, but I can find in it meaning that applies to my life now. Guess which I prefer. This isn't quite a coherent statement, but it's the jist.

In any case, the rabbi is very nice, and so is her husband and so are her children. They gave me a very nice dinner. Mmm, food I didn't cook myself and don't have to worry that I'm spending more than my budget on.... I'm really not mercenary; I'm just a student.

Ok, top weird/cool thing about the service today [sorry, btw, to anyone who's not Jewish and is getting really bored or confused] was hearing Hebrew pronounced with a British accent. :) I can't render it in print because a. it's tricky to mark an accent b. it's in a language with another alphabet and c. it's also largely the cadence. But it was cool.

Ok, that's about all I can muster at the moment. Think I'll go trundle myself into bed.

Same square. 

A square. I still am not sure what it's called. 

More canallage. 

There are supposedly more canals in Bham than in Venice, although I'm not sure how this is measured. They're pretty, anyway. 

The Bham War Memorial. 

The Birmingham eye. It's like the London Eye only smaller and in Birmingham. 

Bouncing around Bham

Yesterday was quite a day. Started with a laundry mini-fiasco, which we won't go into except to say that I made my flatmates 30 minutes late for the trip I'm about to describe and even then I had to pull my clothes out before they were dry and leave them lying around everywhere. But heated towel racks are my friends. :) I'm sort of shocked they haven't caught on in the US (correct me if I'm wrong here), because they're the best thing since sliced bread. Actually, I didn't use to think sliced bread was so hot, but I'm warming up to it. Or warming it up. Or, actually, keeping it in the fridge. Whatever.

So Alicia, Tanja and I went to Chinatown for lunch. Well, first we had to find Chinatown, which was something of an endeavor (or endeavour, if you prefer). But we ended up at a nice little restaurent, where I got roast duck with green peppers in black bean sauce and jasmine tea. Oh, and tap water, which the guy seemed surprised about and made me promise that I understood there was "no guerantee for my health" [if there's a spelling mistake there, it's my own--I do wish they'd put a spellcheck in these things]. It's the same water system I've been drinking out of for three weeks--unless that explains my stomachaches when I first arrived. But it was yummy. Then we went to a Chinese grocery store, where I bought mochi and jasmine tea. Flashbacks to Japan; even though most of this was Chinese food, it's vaguely similar. I'm thinking of trying to make egg-fried rice soon.

Then we wandered around the Outdoor Market and drooled over the produce. I caved in and bought some strawberries--they looked so yummy and were only 80p. Everything seems so much cheaper in pounds.... But I've been eating them like mad, so I guess I've been getting my money's worth. And I bought a hunk of cheddar for 66p, not bad, even compared to Iceland. Although I went grocery shopping again today and somehow bought 16 quid's worth of stuff--am a bit concerned at my spendthrift ways. But I reason with myself that a lot of this is stuff I'm laying in for the year--like two jars of curry sauce (the same as we used to get at Krishna's in P-town) that were on sale, plus two things of decaf tea, also on sale... Do you notice a tea theme? Just trying to make up for the presence of Rebecca. And the massive tea collection of Rebecca. And the convoluted syntax of me. Maybe my non-native-speaker flatmates are rubbing off on me rather than the other way around.... uh oh.

So, picking up the scattered pieces of my narrative, I will tell you (because I don't want a dangling modifier) that we went home. Exciting! Then we went to a classmate of mine's flat to a party, accidentally. There was a miscommunication. She had invited me to go to a club with her, and told me to meet her at her flat beforehand. I hadn't realized that there would be a massive birthday party for her at her flat, or that there was a dress code at the club. So I couldn't get in because I was wearing "trainers." But hiking shoes are good for my feet! Do you want me to show you my surgery scars? :( Truthfully, I was mainly sad because I'd dragged Tanja and Caroline with me and they also couldn't get in (well, Tanja had the right shoes, but she wouldn't have known anyone). But I ended up taking them to a really cool pub with live music that I'd noticed the weekend before when I saw Carmen with Alicia (oh, I ended up never posting about that, but it was really cool. I love opera). There was a country/blues/rock band that was pretty good. And there was no cover and I actually liked the beer, and I got to sit in a cushy leather chair and really have my first pub experience. I actually ended up feeling a little homesick because the band, though British, was singing in American Southern accents, which made me sort of miss home (even though a lot of the people from home don't have Southern accents). And there was a couple directly in my line of vision to the band who were being really cute--like the makes-you-feel-like-you're-intruding kind of cute--which made me miss Andy. I want to be the one making everyone else nauseous, dangit. Though I don't think we're that bad. Of course, you guys will probably now correct me. :)

But it was a good evening, although I returned with smoky hair and a sore throat--I'm coming down with a cold, though I'm trying to not let it get to me.

Tomorrow, I'm having dinner with the rabbi of the Progressive synagogue in town (she says it's like Reform/Reconstructionist), and going to Rosh Hashana evening services. First I have to brave the bus system. Wish me luck!

L'Shana Tova, everyone. That means happy new year. It's a long story. :)