I think this blog has fulfilled it's need and I'll probably be pulling it soon. Well, I'll probably wait until I finish so I can celebrate. My word count is 8615 (not including works cited), about 6500 of that is pretty solid stuff. I'm supposed to have a polished-ish draft in by tomorrow night to my advisors, and so I see a light at the end of the tunnel. I don't have a lot of time for revision and I've kind of realized that they aren't going to prevent me from graduating because my MA report isn't gleaming. So, one way or another, I'll be done before Jane's 1st birthday. *sigh*
In other news, I'm thinking of naming my next child Kairos. It's got a nice ring to it, no? Thoughts?
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Metaphors- A Real Post
The super-clever opening to the seminar paper that spawned this project began with this quote as an epigraph:
The sexual language used by Renaissance rhetoricians also makes rhetoric, at least potentially, a most sinister and troubling affair, for if the orator's performance constitutes a violent, irresistible sexual penetration of the auditor, then that performance looks uncomfortably like rape. Indeed, the discourse resonates with the word itself, which appears in barely disguised form every time a vernacular writer speaks of ravishment, and more directly in Latin texts whenever one encounters the verb rapere. That rhetoric should evoke rape should not be surprising, since rape is a crime of violence, an assault on a victim who is penetrated and possessed sexually by the attacker. (158)
Wayne A. Rebhorn The Emperor of Men's Minds: Literature and the Renaissance Discourse of Rhetoric
Followed by this opening line:
This is not a paper about Renaissance rhetoric.
I then went on to trace this "anxiety of violence" within the rhetorical tradition. After all, Gorgias's Encomium of Helen uses the comparison of persuasion to rape as a defense of Helen of Troy's actions. And then use that to introduce Gearhart's claim that "any intent to persuade is an act of violence."
I'm fascinated by the kinds of metaphors surrounding rhetoric and the terms used to describe it. Take, for example, how we describe an argument or a position paper, it's all set up in battle language.
George Lakoff and Mark Johnson have an interesting book called Metaphors We Live By in which they describe how metaphor isn't just pretty.
"Metaphor is typically viewed as a characteristic of language alone, a matter of words rather than thought or action. [...But] metaphor is pervasive in everyday life [...] Our ordinary conceptual system, in terms of which we both think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical in nature" (3).
In some ways, what they are talking about is similar to Kenneth Burke's terministic screens (which is probably while I like it). Like terministic screens, our conceptual system is not something we are not normally aware of. There are metaphors that "structure how we perceive, how we think, and what we do" (4) all behind our back. You know, until we turn around.
So, you inquirers of rhetorical truth, turn around with me and lets shed some light on argument (which happens to be L&J's first example).
Your claims are indefensible.
"He attacked every weak point in my argument.
His criticisms were right on target.
I demolished his argument
I've never won an argument with him.
You disagree? Okay, shoot!
If you use that strategy, he'll wipe you out.
He shot down all of my arguments.
It is important to see that we don't just talk about arguments in terms of war. We can actually win or lose arguments. We see the person we are arguing with as an opponent. We attack his positions and we defend our own. We gain and lose ground. We plan and use strategies. If we find a position indefensible, we can abandon it and take a new line of attack. Many of things we do in arguing are partially structured by the concept of war" [...] It is in this sense that the ARGUMENT AS WAR metaphor is one we live by in this culture; it structures the actions we perform in arguing (4).
Is your brain on fire yet? As I've been writing my draft, it's been so strange to find myself using the terms that connote this metaphor of war so easily, so naturally.
This is a concept and a book cited a lot by the group of feminists I'm looking at. And as peace loving feminists, they have to take action against this War. Most want to through it out or at least revision it. But here is the problem with that--L&J go on to describe another culture that has an ARGUMENT AS DANCE metaphor. "In such a culture, people would view arguments differently, experience them differently, carry them out differently, and talk about them differently. But we would probably not view them as arguing at all: they would simply be doing something different" (5). So based on that, doesn't it seem like revision is kind of undoable? I think it might be possible to argue that this is why their attempts to change argument haven't really done much. It would also strengthen an argument to just through argument out entirely and present a different metaphor, but then, is that possible?
As you can tell, I haven't completely worked in all out in my brain yet, that, and it's time for more pain meds. But, what do you think?
The sexual language used by Renaissance rhetoricians also makes rhetoric, at least potentially, a most sinister and troubling affair, for if the orator's performance constitutes a violent, irresistible sexual penetration of the auditor, then that performance looks uncomfortably like rape. Indeed, the discourse resonates with the word itself, which appears in barely disguised form every time a vernacular writer speaks of ravishment, and more directly in Latin texts whenever one encounters the verb rapere. That rhetoric should evoke rape should not be surprising, since rape is a crime of violence, an assault on a victim who is penetrated and possessed sexually by the attacker. (158)
Wayne A. Rebhorn The Emperor of Men's Minds: Literature and the Renaissance Discourse of Rhetoric
Followed by this opening line:
This is not a paper about Renaissance rhetoric.
I then went on to trace this "anxiety of violence" within the rhetorical tradition. After all, Gorgias's Encomium of Helen uses the comparison of persuasion to rape as a defense of Helen of Troy's actions. And then use that to introduce Gearhart's claim that "any intent to persuade is an act of violence."
I'm fascinated by the kinds of metaphors surrounding rhetoric and the terms used to describe it. Take, for example, how we describe an argument or a position paper, it's all set up in battle language.
George Lakoff and Mark Johnson have an interesting book called Metaphors We Live By in which they describe how metaphor isn't just pretty.
"Metaphor is typically viewed as a characteristic of language alone, a matter of words rather than thought or action. [...But] metaphor is pervasive in everyday life [...] Our ordinary conceptual system, in terms of which we both think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical in nature" (3).
In some ways, what they are talking about is similar to Kenneth Burke's terministic screens (which is probably while I like it). Like terministic screens, our conceptual system is not something we are not normally aware of. There are metaphors that "structure how we perceive, how we think, and what we do" (4) all behind our back. You know, until we turn around.
So, you inquirers of rhetorical truth, turn around with me and lets shed some light on argument (which happens to be L&J's first example).
Your claims are indefensible.
"He attacked every weak point in my argument.
His criticisms were right on target.
I demolished his argument
I've never won an argument with him.
You disagree? Okay, shoot!
If you use that strategy, he'll wipe you out.
He shot down all of my arguments.
It is important to see that we don't just talk about arguments in terms of war. We can actually win or lose arguments. We see the person we are arguing with as an opponent. We attack his positions and we defend our own. We gain and lose ground. We plan and use strategies. If we find a position indefensible, we can abandon it and take a new line of attack. Many of things we do in arguing are partially structured by the concept of war" [...] It is in this sense that the ARGUMENT AS WAR metaphor is one we live by in this culture; it structures the actions we perform in arguing (4).
Is your brain on fire yet? As I've been writing my draft, it's been so strange to find myself using the terms that connote this metaphor of war so easily, so naturally.
This is a concept and a book cited a lot by the group of feminists I'm looking at. And as peace loving feminists, they have to take action against this War. Most want to through it out or at least revision it. But here is the problem with that--L&J go on to describe another culture that has an ARGUMENT AS DANCE metaphor. "In such a culture, people would view arguments differently, experience them differently, carry them out differently, and talk about them differently. But we would probably not view them as arguing at all: they would simply be doing something different" (5). So based on that, doesn't it seem like revision is kind of undoable? I think it might be possible to argue that this is why their attempts to change argument haven't really done much. It would also strengthen an argument to just through argument out entirely and present a different metaphor, but then, is that possible?
As you can tell, I haven't completely worked in all out in my brain yet, that, and it's time for more pain meds. But, what do you think?
BASICALLY a draft
At about 1:30 am or so the morning of my surgery, I did submit something. It was a nearly complete draft, I had about 4 pages more to write (plus a conclusion) that were only outlined, but I pretty much know what is supposed to be in them.
I received comments back from my advisers and they were very positive. Seems I'm on the right track!! Yay! I really think I can do this! I'm on the home stretch, and now that most of the draft is there, it should be a whole lot more fun working on this thing.
So, I'm hoping to have another draft, a real complete draft, ready this weekend for any readers who feel like taking me up on it (Eric says he doesn't have to ready another draft until the pen-ultimate draft, not the pen-pen-ultimate draft).
I received comments back from my advisers and they were very positive. Seems I'm on the right track!! Yay! I really think I can do this! I'm on the home stretch, and now that most of the draft is there, it should be a whole lot more fun working on this thing.
So, I'm hoping to have another draft, a real complete draft, ready this weekend for any readers who feel like taking me up on it (Eric says he doesn't have to ready another draft until the pen-ultimate draft, not the pen-pen-ultimate draft).
Monday, July 13, 2009
On Fire!
So I might actually have a draft ready to go tonight ("ready" is always a meaningless word).
I put my old draft aside and did "radical revision" as the Future Dr. Jones describes it. I've been rocking out, at least comparatively. And that's DESPITE the fact that I had an eye exam this morning and they dilated my eyes (never had that before) and I could barely focus on the screen or even look at a white piece of paper (too bright) for a few hours. Thankfully, my eyes are back to normal now, so I don't have that impediment.
I've actually been enjoying myself A LITTLE today as I worked on my analysis of Gearhart. I've been surprised by how the organization seems to just be flowing (at least so far today, knock on wood), and while my butt hurts, my hips hurt, and my back hurts, my brain doesn't. It's tired, yes. But the good kind. I still have a TON of work, but the word count for "first draft ready" material is nearly 3000! Woot, woot! What's made the difference? God, probably.
So, here's hoping. It's been great to keep my mind off of surgery tomorrow, and with any luck I'll work until the wee small hours and fall into bed to tired to worry and sleep too deep to have weird dreams.
I'm sorry I have had nothing interesting to post about my actual project as of late. Please forgive me.
I put my old draft aside and did "radical revision" as the Future Dr. Jones describes it. I've been rocking out, at least comparatively. And that's DESPITE the fact that I had an eye exam this morning and they dilated my eyes (never had that before) and I could barely focus on the screen or even look at a white piece of paper (too bright) for a few hours. Thankfully, my eyes are back to normal now, so I don't have that impediment.
I've actually been enjoying myself A LITTLE today as I worked on my analysis of Gearhart. I've been surprised by how the organization seems to just be flowing (at least so far today, knock on wood), and while my butt hurts, my hips hurt, and my back hurts, my brain doesn't. It's tired, yes. But the good kind. I still have a TON of work, but the word count for "first draft ready" material is nearly 3000! Woot, woot! What's made the difference? God, probably.
So, here's hoping. It's been great to keep my mind off of surgery tomorrow, and with any luck I'll work until the wee small hours and fall into bed to tired to worry and sleep too deep to have weird dreams.
I'm sorry I have had nothing interesting to post about my actual project as of late. Please forgive me.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
It's working!
So "starting over" has turned out to be empowering at least so far. Yesterday I wrote 750 words per hour! OK, that was just one of the hours I was writing yesterday, but still. It was the first hour, even. So that's pretty awesome. I'm hoping to keep up the momentum today and get a draft done REALLY, really soon...sigh. I've been at this too long!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Dealing with Blockage
So remember when I said I had x number of words "first draft ready"? Well, I really don't have anymore than that ready. I keep getting stuck in this same part of my paper, the part where I attempt to outline and review the history and the literature about feminist approaches. It's really an altitude problem. A professor of mine describes it this way--think of a plane and the different altitudes it can fly at. The higher up, the broader the view but also the less detailed the view. I've been kind of stuck trying to figure out how high up to go.
I think my other problem is that I'm using stuff that I wrote a long time ago because I don't want to rewrite similar parts, even though my understanding of them has changed a bit. I was reading another academic blog the other day and she talked about when you start a second draft to start with a blank page and write from your brain rather than getting tangled up in your own prose. It's a very scary thing to do. But I really do feel tangled, so last night Eric helped me compromise. He pretended like he didn't know anything about my paper (he says it wasn't much of a stretch of the imagination for him ;-) and we got out a tape recorder and I talked and he took some notes, kind of trying to help me outline it.
Was this approach successful? We'll find out shortly. Stay tuned! And wish me luck!
I think my other problem is that I'm using stuff that I wrote a long time ago because I don't want to rewrite similar parts, even though my understanding of them has changed a bit. I was reading another academic blog the other day and she talked about when you start a second draft to start with a blank page and write from your brain rather than getting tangled up in your own prose. It's a very scary thing to do. But I really do feel tangled, so last night Eric helped me compromise. He pretended like he didn't know anything about my paper (he says it wasn't much of a stretch of the imagination for him ;-) and we got out a tape recorder and I talked and he took some notes, kind of trying to help me outline it.
Was this approach successful? We'll find out shortly. Stay tuned! And wish me luck!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Whining
So, when I got blocked again today while working, I paused to vent on this blog. I thought maybe by whining through it, I might find an answer to why I am having such a hard time with this project, why it's different then the last massive project I worked on (although that one was MUCH larger and theoretically so much more challenging). In the process of thinking what is harder than this, I realized something kind of spooky. I'd rather go through childbirth again than work on and finish this paper. Seriously. And we are not even saying I'd get to take a baby home. Just the grunt, sweat, and tears of childbirth and then I could have my masters. Eric thinks I'm exaggerating. I'd prefer pain at this point.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Arghhh
Here's what one "work" day looked like last week before there was all the business and craziness of packing up, driving home, and unpacking.
Slept in - the Jane Clock didn't go off at 6:00. Got up, ate, read scriptures, got dressed, etc.
7:41 - winding up for work
Jane is sleeping!!!
8:39 - 1057 words (out of 5201) are "1st draft ready"
Jane wakes up
8:54 - floundering. What can I work on next?
Jane is cute. I'm trying to work with her sitting and playing next to me
9:35- work is slowly lurching along
Jane is hungry.
10:00 - got dressed, went on a walk with Jane and a friend, fed Jane a bottle, ate some chips
12:01 - back to work
HA HA!! phone calls, Jane, laundry, lunch, all get in the way
Put Jane down for a nap
2:30 - for reals, for reals: back to work!
2:45 - floundering. What can I work on next?
3:00 - Jane wakes up...
So, maybe that timeline doesn't quite capture it, but it's so strange (and really cool when you think about it), how my brain is so attached to my daughter. The only time I can completely focus on something other than Jane is when she is asleep. The few mornings that I have been up and working before her, I can actually feel something switch in my brain the moment she's up and gabbering. I can work with her near if it's not something hard or is something straightforward...anyway. Now that we are back, I think I need to head to the library a few hours a day so I can focus better. The clock is ticking!
Slept in - the Jane Clock didn't go off at 6:00. Got up, ate, read scriptures, got dressed, etc.
7:41 - winding up for work
Jane is sleeping!!!
8:39 - 1057 words (out of 5201) are "1st draft ready"
Jane wakes up
8:54 - floundering. What can I work on next?
Jane is cute. I'm trying to work with her sitting and playing next to me
9:35- work is slowly lurching along
Jane is hungry.
10:00 - got dressed, went on a walk with Jane and a friend, fed Jane a bottle, ate some chips
12:01 - back to work
HA HA!! phone calls, Jane, laundry, lunch, all get in the way
Put Jane down for a nap
2:30 - for reals, for reals: back to work!
2:45 - floundering. What can I work on next?
3:00 - Jane wakes up...
So, maybe that timeline doesn't quite capture it, but it's so strange (and really cool when you think about it), how my brain is so attached to my daughter. The only time I can completely focus on something other than Jane is when she is asleep. The few mornings that I have been up and working before her, I can actually feel something switch in my brain the moment she's up and gabbering. I can work with her near if it's not something hard or is something straightforward...anyway. Now that we are back, I think I need to head to the library a few hours a day so I can focus better. The clock is ticking!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Update
So, I've had a lot of ups and downs lately. I've realized once again (which I've always known) that doing too much of one thing = unhappy me. I feel the pressure of getting a draft out really soon before surgery and that makes me not want to do anything but work on my paper, which is both unrealistic and counter productive. In my obsession to get a draft out, I've really made myself miserable and haven't taken the time to enjoy being in Idaho. So Thursday last week I decided to knock it off. I am close to having something that I can send to others for evaluation, but my brain was so fried and I was so sad, I decided rather than keep a deadline for the deadline's sake, to decide to develop positive work patterns (and strategies for doing things I don't like ;-)
Here is what I have figured out about work habits for me:
I get a lot done in 2 hours. And I usually need a bit of a break after those 2 hours. I can get two productive sessions of 2 hours each a day and occasionally 3 sessions, but not every day.
I do better work in the morning first thing OR after I've had a chance to plan my day and know what else is on my plate and check my email, and take care of everything. Which means, the best times for me to work (at least mentally), are first thing (but I have to get started before Jane wakes up, so like 5:00 am), during Jane's nap (if she takes a nap...), late afternoon (3:00ish) or like 7:00pm after Jane is in bed, dinner is over and cleaned up (if I'm not too exhausted). So, go ahead and ask me how getting up at 5:00 am is going...;-)
After 4 four hour days, I need a break. I was thinking that this was just my own lack of motivation and deep desire not to write this thing, but it's been so consistent and I've had so much more energy and positive feelings at the first of the week after a good break, that I've decided it's reality. I'm wondering if I could maybe fit in a small session during the weekend, like if I work M-Th, and maybe Friday morning, take a break and then maybe look at it Saturday, make a plan, and then forget about it again until Monday. I don't know.
I need to be busier to be more productive. If it's the only thing on my plate, I get depressed quickly and find ways to avoid it (like my dad is with vegetables. Or salads). But if I've got some people to see, projects to work on, I make that time work better and I'm more focused and motivated. Go figure. See, that whole "be anxiously engaged in many things" is REALLY true.
Umm...I think there are more, but I need to hunker down and get to work now.
Here is what I have figured out about work habits for me:
I get a lot done in 2 hours. And I usually need a bit of a break after those 2 hours. I can get two productive sessions of 2 hours each a day and occasionally 3 sessions, but not every day.
I do better work in the morning first thing OR after I've had a chance to plan my day and know what else is on my plate and check my email, and take care of everything. Which means, the best times for me to work (at least mentally), are first thing (but I have to get started before Jane wakes up, so like 5:00 am), during Jane's nap (if she takes a nap...), late afternoon (3:00ish) or like 7:00pm after Jane is in bed, dinner is over and cleaned up (if I'm not too exhausted). So, go ahead and ask me how getting up at 5:00 am is going...;-)
After 4 four hour days, I need a break. I was thinking that this was just my own lack of motivation and deep desire not to write this thing, but it's been so consistent and I've had so much more energy and positive feelings at the first of the week after a good break, that I've decided it's reality. I'm wondering if I could maybe fit in a small session during the weekend, like if I work M-Th, and maybe Friday morning, take a break and then maybe look at it Saturday, make a plan, and then forget about it again until Monday. I don't know.
I need to be busier to be more productive. If it's the only thing on my plate, I get depressed quickly and find ways to avoid it (like my dad is with vegetables. Or salads). But if I've got some people to see, projects to work on, I make that time work better and I'm more focused and motivated. Go figure. See, that whole "be anxiously engaged in many things" is REALLY true.
Umm...I think there are more, but I need to hunker down and get to work now.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The Power of Caps
I'm forging ahead, even as Jane is crying in the next room, refusing to go to sleep (which usually derails me), even though I'm still not sure what this last section is going to look like, even though the more I write, the shorter my paper gets, I keep going. How? The Power of Caps.
Yes, there is great power in provisional writing. For me, I tap on the caps lock and write. That way I know that I will surely see my stupidity and note to myself as I read through to revise. And it's strangely liberating. I've written a whole paragraph in caps before only to realize later that the prose is actually pretty perfect. Writing in caps turns off the internal editor for a minute so I can just get out what I'm trying to say. The Power of Caps will prevail...
Yes, there is great power in provisional writing. For me, I tap on the caps lock and write. That way I know that I will surely see my stupidity and note to myself as I read through to revise. And it's strangely liberating. I've written a whole paragraph in caps before only to realize later that the prose is actually pretty perfect. Writing in caps turns off the internal editor for a minute so I can just get out what I'm trying to say. The Power of Caps will prevail...
Uh...yeah.
So I have about 2000 words left to write before my Thursday deadline and I'm having a really tough time even figuring out where to start with this last chunk. This is the part where I'm supposed to look at the feminist pedagogues and the things they have done and critique it. It's supposed to be the smartest and most analytical part of my paper, or at least I think so. It should be the funnest part to write and yet I'm either scared or totally checked out. I've read SO much for this project (too much, that's part of the problem...) and last night I re-read an article that is really fabulous and I found myself, "why am I writing this?" I feel like I can't really add anything to the conversation. And anything I do say is going to be at least second rate (probably more like fourth rate), so what's the point? I mean, despite the fact this is the last hoop to jump through to get my MA...
When I wrote my honor's thesis at BYU, there was this huge emphasis on coming up with truly original and creative work. On the one hand, it added a lot of pressure. On the other, it was really exciting and had exigency based on that alone. Most of the time I feel like I'm just writing a book report. I mean, I've learned a ton! But I don't feel like the critique I could add would do much to further the discussion. And the discussion needs to be furthered because it's kind of dead at the moment....
So I'm going to go back to wandering (in high speed) aimlessly (which looks pretty silly) trying to come up with how to break into this section...
It REALLY doesn't help that I don't have all my materials and notes here. I've done A LOT of this work already and now I've got to go at it all over again.
When I wrote my honor's thesis at BYU, there was this huge emphasis on coming up with truly original and creative work. On the one hand, it added a lot of pressure. On the other, it was really exciting and had exigency based on that alone. Most of the time I feel like I'm just writing a book report. I mean, I've learned a ton! But I don't feel like the critique I could add would do much to further the discussion. And the discussion needs to be furthered because it's kind of dead at the moment....
So I'm going to go back to wandering (in high speed) aimlessly (which looks pretty silly) trying to come up with how to break into this section...
It REALLY doesn't help that I don't have all my materials and notes here. I've done A LOT of this work already and now I've got to go at it all over again.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
My Master's (current) Theme Song
I have highlighted the especially pertinent lines.
Eric Hutchinson
Back To Where I Was :
New life decides to come through the front door
and makes us wish we'd shown respect before
though i don't have much of a choice
i resolve to regain my voice
chorus
if i only just begin to understand it that's because
everytime i time i start to change my mind again
it gets me back to where i was
new life we never had a clue
the two of us deciding what to do
though my hands are all but tied
i rebound so i can say at least i tried
chorus
and long as i'm allowed i'll change my mind that's what it's for
i'm getting older but i'm still the same i'm just not thinking anymore
Eric Hutchinson
Back To Where I Was :
New life decides to come through the front door
and makes us wish we'd shown respect before
though i don't have much of a choice
i resolve to regain my voice
chorus
if i only just begin to understand it that's because
everytime i time i start to change my mind again
it gets me back to where i was
new life we never had a clue
the two of us deciding what to do
though my hands are all but tied
i rebound so i can say at least i tried
chorus
and long as i'm allowed i'll change my mind that's what it's for
i'm getting older but i'm still the same i'm just not thinking anymore
Critical Mass
So I'm realizing I can really only get so many hours of work in a day before I get completely fried. It's a shockingly small amount. Previous to this last week, I had been doing all my work after Jane went to bed for about 4 hours. With Mom around and able this week to watch her a bit, I've been getting some excellent work during the day...but then I'm not able to get much if anything done in the evening. My motivation is waning, but I have to say that posting here about Agonism has REALLY helped me tackle it again today in my draft. I was like "I've talked about that intelligently before, people read it and no one made fun of me...I can do it again." So YAY blog!
I'm really starting to doubt the scope I've picked for this project and the style I've envisioned for it. Surprisingly, writing the typical academic tone comes pretty easy. It's more difficult for me to write in the style I used to for this stuff...when did that happen? Ack! I've been assimilated ;-) Resistance is futile.
P.S. I've been wanting to try popcorn with olive oil for a while now (since it's SO much better than butter), but I was scared. I took the plunge today and yum, yum. Granted, this olive oil is fantastic, but still.
I'm really starting to doubt the scope I've picked for this project and the style I've envisioned for it. Surprisingly, writing the typical academic tone comes pretty easy. It's more difficult for me to write in the style I used to for this stuff...when did that happen? Ack! I've been assimilated ;-) Resistance is futile.
P.S. I've been wanting to try popcorn with olive oil for a while now (since it's SO much better than butter), but I was scared. I took the plunge today and yum, yum. Granted, this olive oil is fantastic, but still.
Monday, June 22, 2009
writing, writing, writing,
I have 73% of the words I need on the page! I only had 45% when the weekend hit. I feel hope! Of course, it's a giant mess in need of lots of organizing, rewriting, cleaning, etc, etc. But as we used to tell the students we tutored: a writer is like a janitor--lots of cleaning up messes. BUT a writer has got to make a mess before they can clean it up.... and this is cleaning I like to do.
*happy sigh*
This progress brought to you by Grandma and Grandpa who are currently watching my dear Jane
*happy sigh*
This progress brought to you by Grandma and Grandpa who are currently watching my dear Jane
I am working
Working so hard, in fact, I don't know that I'll have much of coherent interest to post. I'm in that stage where I'm writing like I'm on fire and everything is an organizational mess. It's such a fun place to be!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Essentializing and Style
I have categorized a bunch of the things I have read under the heading of "essentializing." This was stuff I didn't want to get in to and didn't really find interesting. But having FINALLY read Elizabeth Flynn's Composing as a Woman, I think I may have dismissed this group too quickly, especially in how it applies to agonism.
Essentializing happens when we say "women (or whoever) are this way" and we thereby limit them, even when it's well intentioned. One example I used while teaching American Lit was the tragic (although overused) story Yellow Wallpaper. The crazy woman’s poor, well-meaning doctor husband made her more crazy because of what he believed was essentially true about women. Back in the day, the arguments (not that I argue) for why a woman shouldn't go to school where biological, scientific and medical. Learning directed blood away from the woman parts to the brain and the woman parts would atrophy in the mean time. Or that women's brains were smaller than men (they weighed them!) so they didn't belong at school. We say women, or any group, are a certain way and that's that. You can even find proof. But, it's the whole chicken or the egg thing. Are women this way and men that way and that's just the way things are or is their another explanation? In the meantime, essentializing is used as a reason to perpetuate the status quo and is frequently an excuse for inequality.
According to Flynn, the argument (but I don't argue) goes, "women and men differ in their developmental processes and in their interactions with others" but these differences are a result of the imbalance in social power, "of the dominance of men over women" (425). Women are judged by what is perceived as a universal standard but is entirely (I would say largely) a male standard. As Flynn says, "men have chronicled our historical narratives and defined our fields of inquiry" and though we may now be able to function within them, it's still the Master's house and his rules (425). So all the stuff I threw in that essentializing category was basically this stuff that was trying to look at women, their writing, their ways of knowing, outside the Master's house.
Now I do believe in essentialism and truth for that matter. I also believe that as humans alone we have a difficult time accessing that truth, which doesn't mean we shouldn't try. So the problem for me in investigating women's ways of writing or knowing is that I don't know when my own bias, or anyone else's, has creeped in. And maybe I'm afraid of dating myself or something, but I just don't want to go there.
In a lot of ways, my students feel the same way as woman did in the 1920s (I'm thinking of that great line in Thoroughly Modern Millie...) and in the 1950s. There is a perceived equality and therefore no need for feminists to rage. And I am guilty, too. As I have worked on this paper I have wondered whether or not feminism helps or hinders the process of evolving our views on argument. he deepest bias is always the one we can't see.
And yet, I do know that agonism is a tradition that was formed entirely without female voices. And yet, and this is another concern of feminists I have read, if we don’t speak in the established modes of discourse, we won’t be heard. But how much do we sacrifice? And at the same time, this whole women’s writing thing is pretty new. How much of the way that I write is just latent teenage rebellion against established forms, how much of it is experimental for experiment’s sake (because I get bored easy), and how much of it is really writing as a woman. And even by saying “this is writing as a woman” I could be essentializing. So I’m back to stylistic concerns.
Essentializing happens when we say "women (or whoever) are this way" and we thereby limit them, even when it's well intentioned. One example I used while teaching American Lit was the tragic (although overused) story Yellow Wallpaper. The crazy woman’s poor, well-meaning doctor husband made her more crazy because of what he believed was essentially true about women. Back in the day, the arguments (not that I argue) for why a woman shouldn't go to school where biological, scientific and medical. Learning directed blood away from the woman parts to the brain and the woman parts would atrophy in the mean time. Or that women's brains were smaller than men (they weighed them!) so they didn't belong at school. We say women, or any group, are a certain way and that's that. You can even find proof. But, it's the whole chicken or the egg thing. Are women this way and men that way and that's just the way things are or is their another explanation? In the meantime, essentializing is used as a reason to perpetuate the status quo and is frequently an excuse for inequality.
According to Flynn, the argument (but I don't argue) goes, "women and men differ in their developmental processes and in their interactions with others" but these differences are a result of the imbalance in social power, "of the dominance of men over women" (425). Women are judged by what is perceived as a universal standard but is entirely (I would say largely) a male standard. As Flynn says, "men have chronicled our historical narratives and defined our fields of inquiry" and though we may now be able to function within them, it's still the Master's house and his rules (425). So all the stuff I threw in that essentializing category was basically this stuff that was trying to look at women, their writing, their ways of knowing, outside the Master's house.
Now I do believe in essentialism and truth for that matter. I also believe that as humans alone we have a difficult time accessing that truth, which doesn't mean we shouldn't try. So the problem for me in investigating women's ways of writing or knowing is that I don't know when my own bias, or anyone else's, has creeped in. And maybe I'm afraid of dating myself or something, but I just don't want to go there.
In a lot of ways, my students feel the same way as woman did in the 1920s (I'm thinking of that great line in Thoroughly Modern Millie...) and in the 1950s. There is a perceived equality and therefore no need for feminists to rage. And I am guilty, too. As I have worked on this paper I have wondered whether or not feminism helps or hinders the process of evolving our views on argument. he deepest bias is always the one we can't see.
And yet, I do know that agonism is a tradition that was formed entirely without female voices. And yet, and this is another concern of feminists I have read, if we don’t speak in the established modes of discourse, we won’t be heard. But how much do we sacrifice? And at the same time, this whole women’s writing thing is pretty new. How much of the way that I write is just latent teenage rebellion against established forms, how much of it is experimental for experiment’s sake (because I get bored easy), and how much of it is really writing as a woman. And even by saying “this is writing as a woman” I could be essentializing. So I’m back to stylistic concerns.
I did work yesterday
In fact, I did so much work yesterday that I had nothing left to say on this blog...kind of burned by brain out, actually. I have procurred readers and set deadlines and even figured out how many words per day (1225) I need to write to meet my goals, and I made my goal yesterday! So here's me personally pep-talking me up so I can do it again today. I've realized that the "easiest" stuff I have to write up is stuff I've known for a long time, which means its stuff I've already thought a lot about which means it's going to be a bit boring to get through which means it's now the toughest stuff (you know, since I "brought it" with Ong and all).
I did want to share this quote, which I found the other day from a blog (I can't remember which now) that has inspired me and which I keep saying to myself over and over again when I start to feel that anxiety creeping in at the edges of my brain.
You have nothing to prove in the first draft, nothing to defend, EVERYTHING TO IMAGINE!
I did want to share this quote, which I found the other day from a blog (I can't remember which now) that has inspired me and which I keep saying to myself over and over again when I start to feel that anxiety creeping in at the edges of my brain.
You have nothing to prove in the first draft, nothing to defend, EVERYTHING TO IMAGINE!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Bring it ONG!
The battle still rages. Or in Ong's terms, the contest for dominance still persists.
So mostly what I've been doing is reaquainting myself with the book and trying to figure out what he contributes to my argument (not that I am writing an argument). Strangely enough, I have NOT found myself throwing his book this time around. Maybe I've been out of grad school long enough to become less angsty and defensive and more relaxed and generous? Here's what is currently striking me and may keep me up tonight.
There are creepy similarities between Helen B. Andelin's The Fascinating Girl.
This point is so huge I have to dwell for a minute. Some of you may know (especially those of you familiar with some of my creative nonfiction work) that I'm ever caught by this book and not necessarily in a good way. It has given me it's own fair share of angst. The book essentializes as much as Ong and both use classic pieces of literature as evidence, or at least as demonstrations of their points, with great frequency. The thing that always bothered me the most about The Fascinating Girl was how much of it rang true--or at least worked. I find myself seeing kernals of what looks like truth in Ong's writings, despite myself.
Ong is sincere. He really believes that contest has functioned "more or less directly to shape the noetic world itself, and specifically its academic development" (28). And that contest "generates intellectual structures, the structures that make science itself" (47). He seems to say that without it, we'd have no knowledge at all, let alone an existence above a primitive one (oh, AND "adversativeness" makes us advanced, not primitive). "Since contest is so pervasive in the evolution of consciousness, there appears to be no way to give a full account of all that contest means to the psyche: its roots are too deep for total excavation" (28).
What is contest, you ask? Well, he goes to GREAT lengths to clarify his definition. It's kind of like competition, but not. And kind of like conflict, but not. And kind of like contention, but not etc, etc. I have sifted through it all for you and here's the basic gist: contest is "a struggle, earnest, possibly but not at all necessarily lethal or even unfriendly, between [...] human beings, entered into to determine dominance of one or another sort. The dominance can be purely ludic, as in a game of amateur sport, or existentially real, as in a lawcase or in war" (44-45).
So how does this all figure in to my paper? Well, feminists beginning (at least in article form) back in the late 70s, started protesting what a lot of them call "adversarial" methods. Ong adds a lot of history, depth, and tradition to that word even if some/a lot/all of it is essentialized and problematic. He's at least trying to explain it, where it comes from, how it has functioned, how it is useful, and for him, why it is necessary. And he definitely makes a case for how entrenched this approach is in academia. You've got to know your enemy before you can take it down, right? And not saying that agonism is necessarily my enemy (not yet, anyway), but it definitely enriches the discussion.
So what is so wrong about Ong? Shall we call them wrOngisms? (I'm having way too much fun with his last name)
Well, for one, he basically says that women can't really take part in this adversativeness/conflict/agonistic tradition because it's in our biology, more specifically our sexual biology. For example, "A mother seems to absorb aggression [...] Anatomically males are not fitted for this creative absorption [intercourse] of aggression and its transformation into life [pregnancy]" (40-41). You can't have conflict without aggression and we really only have aggression when we are protecting our young. Or we mask it (two words: Junior High) in strange social manipulations. It doesn't manifest itself in the ceremonial combat-like manner of men. Or stags (one of his frequent examples).
And even though he says that "Contest has been a major factor in organic evolution and it turns out to have been a major, and indeed seemingly essential, factor in intellectual development," (28) and practically denies women real participation in contest because of biology, he also admits that women do think. And even read. He consistently avoids putting two and two together (which would equal clear chauvinism) but the contradiction is there.Oh, and there is this interesting element of play necessary to his idea of contest, which is the other reason women are excluded--we don't play well.
But, then, why do I even want to be included? Other than the fact that I'm not fond of arguments that deny me intellectual ability based on biology, I don't know yet.
But his larger thesis that contest is necessary to intellectual development is really interesting and will play a large part in my paper. Granted, I'll probably tweak the definition of "contest" a bit. Can I just leave out entirely the idea of dominance???
Saturday, June 13, 2009
En Guarde!
Yes, Agonism! Your time has come. I have dodged you in the past, hidden you in the shadows, left you barely existing in my drafts, condemned to cap-form: "DISCUSS AGONISM HERE." But I refuse to be afraid of you anymore. Today is the day we will do "battle." So dear Mr. Ong, take your best shot. Remember I'm a feminist, a peace-making middle child, and a Christian to boot so you can't expect me to "hit" back, at least in the way your agonistic rear would expect. I myself don't know what my "tactics" will look like. But I know that today I must engage you without fear.
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday! Watch the fierce battle between the Celibate Jesuit Priest and the Feminist Mormon Stay-at-Home Mom in the *Fight for Life! A clash of values, a contest of wit, a feud between the sexes! Enter the fray at 5:00 pm MST, IF YOU DARE!
*the name of Ong's book is Fighting for Life: Contest, Sexuality, and Consciousness
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday! Watch the fierce battle between the Celibate Jesuit Priest and the Feminist Mormon Stay-at-Home Mom in the *Fight for Life! A clash of values, a contest of wit, a feud between the sexes! Enter the fray at 5:00 pm MST, IF YOU DARE!
*the name of Ong's book is Fighting for Life: Contest, Sexuality, and Consciousness
Friday, June 12, 2009
Tomorrow
Tomorrow I got sick. Thursday I started feeling better. Today I'm blah again. I'm kinda working (as we speak!), but blah and profound aren't exactly soul mates.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
A Few Letters
Dear Gut,
I'm sorry I mistrusted you. I'm sorry I told the world you had betrayed me. I am sorry I haven't followed you closer until now. Thanks for not giving up on me. Thanks for continuing to nag me and being unrelenting and awesome. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I can promise to listen thoroughly, intently, suspending my disbelief, and always giving you a full chance.
Best Regards,
~m
Dear Reader,
I think we are rolling again. Maybe even rocking. Time (i.e. tomorrow) will tell.
~m
I'm sorry I mistrusted you. I'm sorry I told the world you had betrayed me. I am sorry I haven't followed you closer until now. Thanks for not giving up on me. Thanks for continuing to nag me and being unrelenting and awesome. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I can promise to listen thoroughly, intently, suspending my disbelief, and always giving you a full chance.
Best Regards,
~m
Dear Reader,
I think we are rolling again. Maybe even rocking. Time (i.e. tomorrow) will tell.
~m
Monday, June 8, 2009
BLOCKED!!
So, as evidenced by my weekend absence (and this weekend was supposed to be BIG work time with Eric home to watch Jane--yea, I took a 3 hour nap...) I'm blocked again. And here's why I think I am:
I don't have a viable exit strategy. Or an entrance strategy. Eric and I came up with one on Friday that I was initially relieved and excited about. But then I couldn't write anymore. So I need a new strategy. Got any ideas?
I don't have a viable exit strategy. Or an entrance strategy. Eric and I came up with one on Friday that I was initially relieved and excited about. But then I couldn't write anymore. So I need a new strategy. Got any ideas?
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Contract
I'm trying to come up with a contract or a thesis question. I tend to focus panoramic in my research instead of portrait. So the large question I'm always interested in is: How do we reinforce discourse and buttress inquiry into the structure of our deliberative spaces?
And I'm not sure where to go from there.
My question assumes there is something less than perfect with the current system or at least something about the current system that is constantly susceptible to earthquakes of a kind, thus the need for buttressing. What kind of job am I talking about? If argument was a HGTV show, would this be an extreme makeover type show, or more of a Design on a Dime kind of thing? Or somewhere in between? Am I arguing for cosmetic changes? Organizational issues? Renovation? Demolition?
I think I need to spend some time engaging in agonism to answer this question. IS THERE ANYTHING VALUABLE IN AGONISM? Should it be demoed or just renoed? And I think I need to answer that before I can get too much farther. But I don't know if I need to know that to write a thesis question. I've always been an intuitive writer. As an undergrad, I pointedly (and successfully) wrote my final paper for my Teaching Writing class without a thesis stated anywhere in the paper. My gut has betrayed me.
And I'm not sure where to go from there.
My question assumes there is something less than perfect with the current system or at least something about the current system that is constantly susceptible to earthquakes of a kind, thus the need for buttressing. What kind of job am I talking about? If argument was a HGTV show, would this be an extreme makeover type show, or more of a Design on a Dime kind of thing? Or somewhere in between? Am I arguing for cosmetic changes? Organizational issues? Renovation? Demolition?
I think I need to spend some time engaging in agonism to answer this question. IS THERE ANYTHING VALUABLE IN AGONISM? Should it be demoed or just renoed? And I think I need to answer that before I can get too much farther. But I don't know if I need to know that to write a thesis question. I've always been an intuitive writer. As an undergrad, I pointedly (and successfully) wrote my final paper for my Teaching Writing class without a thesis stated anywhere in the paper. My gut has betrayed me.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Panic Mode and an Intro
Yep, it's already starting to set in. I'm just trying to push through and keep writing, even though I just realized I left my outline and other sundry things I now think I need in our apartment which is 1280 miles away from where I sit typing this. I can't get my hands on those things for a month. I'll I've got is my own brain. Scary, right?
I've been having a difficult time figuring out how to start this thing. I've written a half dozen intros and considered another half dozen. I can't seem to figure out how I want to start, what I angle I want to go at this from. The problem is that I researched too long and too wide. What I really want to talk about doesn't fit within the scope of this kind of project. With paralysis setting in, I find myself taking advice (so if you've got some, please offer). I mean, that's what advisers are for! So here's the first part of my intro...for now.
I’m not sure what I was thinking the weekend I came home from college wearing a piece of muslin with the screen-printed words “no war in Iraq” tied around my bicep. I don’t think I did it to rile my mother—although it could have been some form of latent teenage rebellion. And I don’t think I did it mischievously intending to incite uproar around the Limbaugh-loving dinner table. I think I wore it out of conviction, or at least out of relief that I had a conviction, a side that I was finally, after much deliberation, on.
“Deliberation” wasn’t over, however. My mother argued passionately, emotionally, from what she saw as the truth, from deeply held values, the same values I hold. It is no exaggeration to say that she saw my position as betrayal, my armband as evidence of a failure on her part as a parent. My dad’s role in the discussion/argument/conflict was more subdued, nearly entirely made up of factual interjections and clarifications: “Well, yes, but-” or “Now remember that-” or “Well, actually-”. My younger sister stared in disbelief, then dismissed my armband and me as she does all things she deems too stupid to engage, and remained silent. My brother was enjoying the display and took part with gusto arguing both sides alternatively. In the meantime, I escaped to the kitchen where my dad found me later. Although entirely shut down, my dad played the part of my apologist, coaxing me back onto the common ground we shared. But I didn’t go back to the table.
My house has always been a deliberative house. Our favorite and frequent pastime is discussing various issues, principles, and ideas. When my armband and I came home that weekend, I fully expected to share the reasons behind my conviction while sitting at the table. I expected to be vigorously challenged, but not blasted and excluded to the kitchen. The tradition of discourse, the environment of inquiry I trusted, the deliberative house around me collapsed, making the question about war in Iraq moot. At that moment, standing in the shambles, I began to wonder just what had happened to cause this collapse and how to prevent it. Was it simply my position that forced me into the kitchen? Are some issues just too hot? How and where do we argue passionately from our principles, especially when we disagree, without excluding those that oppose us? What does that space look like in groups of different sizes and different degrees of solidarity; in homes, classrooms, communities, academia, politics, and between countries?
Since then, I have both shied away from argument and become fixated on it. As a teacher and student I have become something of a structural detective determined to discover how to bring our deliberative houses up to code. And yet I keep one foot in the kitchen, bracing for the next collapse, hesitating to fully engage. Prerequisite to my returning to the table is answering this question: How do we reinforce discourse and buttress inquiry into the structure of our deliberative spaces?
I've been having a difficult time figuring out how to start this thing. I've written a half dozen intros and considered another half dozen. I can't seem to figure out how I want to start, what I angle I want to go at this from. The problem is that I researched too long and too wide. What I really want to talk about doesn't fit within the scope of this kind of project. With paralysis setting in, I find myself taking advice (so if you've got some, please offer). I mean, that's what advisers are for! So here's the first part of my intro...for now.
I’m not sure what I was thinking the weekend I came home from college wearing a piece of muslin with the screen-printed words “no war in Iraq” tied around my bicep. I don’t think I did it to rile my mother—although it could have been some form of latent teenage rebellion. And I don’t think I did it mischievously intending to incite uproar around the Limbaugh-loving dinner table. I think I wore it out of conviction, or at least out of relief that I had a conviction, a side that I was finally, after much deliberation, on.
“Deliberation” wasn’t over, however. My mother argued passionately, emotionally, from what she saw as the truth, from deeply held values, the same values I hold. It is no exaggeration to say that she saw my position as betrayal, my armband as evidence of a failure on her part as a parent. My dad’s role in the discussion/argument/conflict was more subdued, nearly entirely made up of factual interjections and clarifications: “Well, yes, but-” or “Now remember that-” or “Well, actually-”. My younger sister stared in disbelief, then dismissed my armband and me as she does all things she deems too stupid to engage, and remained silent. My brother was enjoying the display and took part with gusto arguing both sides alternatively. In the meantime, I escaped to the kitchen where my dad found me later. Although entirely shut down, my dad played the part of my apologist, coaxing me back onto the common ground we shared. But I didn’t go back to the table.
My house has always been a deliberative house. Our favorite and frequent pastime is discussing various issues, principles, and ideas. When my armband and I came home that weekend, I fully expected to share the reasons behind my conviction while sitting at the table. I expected to be vigorously challenged, but not blasted and excluded to the kitchen. The tradition of discourse, the environment of inquiry I trusted, the deliberative house around me collapsed, making the question about war in Iraq moot. At that moment, standing in the shambles, I began to wonder just what had happened to cause this collapse and how to prevent it. Was it simply my position that forced me into the kitchen? Are some issues just too hot? How and where do we argue passionately from our principles, especially when we disagree, without excluding those that oppose us? What does that space look like in groups of different sizes and different degrees of solidarity; in homes, classrooms, communities, academia, politics, and between countries?
Since then, I have both shied away from argument and become fixated on it. As a teacher and student I have become something of a structural detective determined to discover how to bring our deliberative houses up to code. And yet I keep one foot in the kitchen, bracing for the next collapse, hesitating to fully engage. Prerequisite to my returning to the table is answering this question: How do we reinforce discourse and buttress inquiry into the structure of our deliberative spaces?
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Influence and Intent
What begat my foray into this project to begin with was this strange and strangely seminal (or ovarian, as Dr. Cary would say) piece by Sally Gearhart in '79 called "The Womanization of Rhetoric." The oft quoted line goes something like this: "any intent to persuade is an act of violence." The three key terms here are intent, persuade, and violence. Most of the feminists I have read pick up or take issue with the violence torch. I have followed that debate and explored that idea a lot, but I've also been hung up on the "any intent to persuade" part.
I feel like today I became unhung. And it might be obvious and it might make no appearance in my actual paper, but it felt like a breakthrough in my thinking. You can tell me if you think I'm being perceptive or not.
First of all, it's not the persuasion that is violent but the intent to do so. She has to say that because her discipline is persuasion, and besides, persuasion makes the world go 'round. To get things done, we either have to agree, be persuaded to agree, or be coerced.
Second, and pardon my TV cliches here as I attempt to to debunk "any intent," but her adjective choice is superlative and overreaches. ANY intent? What about persuading someone who is about to jump off a bridge that life is worth living, or the stereotypical man with a gun who doesn't really want to hurt anyone, he just wants money for his kid who needs an operation... you can't tell me that the intent to persuade them to do otherwise is violent.
What makes intent so bad anyway? I'm not really sure what Gearhart's answer to this is. Or maybe I am and I don't remember. But here's what I came up with today. Again, might be totally obvious.
We all think we are right, it seems natural that you want to be right and to convince others of the right as well. I think maybe an initial intent to change is OK. What else moves us to speak our minds if we didn’t believe that what we had to say could contribute to some kind of change in the world? And I generally believe people don't manipulate others for the fun of it, at least not on the big things, maybe to win a game of UNO if you happen to be my brother. There is usually a basic belief of rightness. The difference between manipulation and persuasion (the similarity of these two terms has always made me a bit uneasy, mostly because I couldn't define the difference) comes down to respect. (This is the lightbulb part.)
With manipulation there is a total loss of respect for the listener's agency and a lack of belief in the listener's abilities to make their own decision "correctly." At the basis of manipulation is pride and ethnocentricity. At the foundation of persuasion is respect. If you value the agency of others, you respect their resistance to your ideas even when you think they are wrong. And I think to be a responsible teacher, politician, purveyor of ideas, minister, mother, or whatever, you have to recognize this basic “intent” to change others and actively work on retaining respect for our students, constituents, listeners, parishioners, children, or whatever. They have agency and they have brains. Make Aretha proud!
That said, I'm not sure if a lack of this respect is in itself violence, but it DOES lead to violence. I agree with Gearhart that we need to “change our own use of our tools” (196). But “our attempt to educate others in that skill [of changing others]” (196) has never been why I see rhetoric as important. I always saw the benefit of rhetoric as a deconstructive tool—as a faculty cultivated to help in cutting through crap. Because crap is always violent. ANY intent to crap is violent. But more on that later.
g'night.
I feel like today I became unhung. And it might be obvious and it might make no appearance in my actual paper, but it felt like a breakthrough in my thinking. You can tell me if you think I'm being perceptive or not.
First of all, it's not the persuasion that is violent but the intent to do so. She has to say that because her discipline is persuasion, and besides, persuasion makes the world go 'round. To get things done, we either have to agree, be persuaded to agree, or be coerced.
Second, and pardon my TV cliches here as I attempt to to debunk "any intent," but her adjective choice is superlative and overreaches. ANY intent? What about persuading someone who is about to jump off a bridge that life is worth living, or the stereotypical man with a gun who doesn't really want to hurt anyone, he just wants money for his kid who needs an operation... you can't tell me that the intent to persuade them to do otherwise is violent.
What makes intent so bad anyway? I'm not really sure what Gearhart's answer to this is. Or maybe I am and I don't remember. But here's what I came up with today. Again, might be totally obvious.
We all think we are right, it seems natural that you want to be right and to convince others of the right as well. I think maybe an initial intent to change is OK. What else moves us to speak our minds if we didn’t believe that what we had to say could contribute to some kind of change in the world? And I generally believe people don't manipulate others for the fun of it, at least not on the big things, maybe to win a game of UNO if you happen to be my brother. There is usually a basic belief of rightness. The difference between manipulation and persuasion (the similarity of these two terms has always made me a bit uneasy, mostly because I couldn't define the difference) comes down to respect. (This is the lightbulb part.)
With manipulation there is a total loss of respect for the listener's agency and a lack of belief in the listener's abilities to make their own decision "correctly." At the basis of manipulation is pride and ethnocentricity. At the foundation of persuasion is respect. If you value the agency of others, you respect their resistance to your ideas even when you think they are wrong. And I think to be a responsible teacher, politician, purveyor of ideas, minister, mother, or whatever, you have to recognize this basic “intent” to change others and actively work on retaining respect for our students, constituents, listeners, parishioners, children, or whatever. They have agency and they have brains. Make Aretha proud!
That said, I'm not sure if a lack of this respect is in itself violence, but it DOES lead to violence. I agree with Gearhart that we need to “change our own use of our tools” (196). But “our attempt to educate others in that skill [of changing others]” (196) has never been why I see rhetoric as important. I always saw the benefit of rhetoric as a deconstructive tool—as a faculty cultivated to help in cutting through crap. Because crap is always violent. ANY intent to crap is violent. But more on that later.
g'night.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Some relevant and moderately favored definitions of rhetoric
These are pasted from my writing journal. I'm not even sure where I got some of them (shhh, don't tell anyone). But they are still good:
"rhetorical study, in its strict sense, is concerned with the modes of persuasion. Persuasion is clearly a sort of demonstration, since we are most fully perusaded when we consider a thing to have been demonstrated."
from http://www.stanford.edu/dept/english/courses/sites/lunsford/pages/defs.htm
Kenneth Burke: "Rhetoric is rooted in an essential function of language itself, a function that is wholly realistic and continually born anew: the use of language as a symbolic means of inducing cooperation in beings that by nature respond to symbols."
George Campbell: [Rhetoric] is that art or talent by which discourse is adapted to its end. The four ends of discourse are to enlighten the understanding, please the imagination, move the passion, and influence the will.
what about discourse as Inquiry?
Gerard A. Hauser: Introduction to Rhetorical Theory (1986)
Rhetoric is an instrumental use of language…. One person engages another person in an exchange of symbols to accomplish some goal. It is not communication for communication's sake. Rhetoric is communication that attempts to coordinate social action. For this reason, rhetorical communication is explicitly pragmatic. Its goal is to influence human choices on specific matters that require immediate attention.
Sappho
Persuasion is Aphrodite's daughter: it is she who beguiles our mortal hearts (frg 90).
Poems and Fragments. Trans. Josephine Balmer. Seacaucus: Meadowland 1984.
"rhetorical study, in its strict sense, is concerned with the modes of persuasion. Persuasion is clearly a sort of demonstration, since we are most fully perusaded when we consider a thing to have been demonstrated."
from http://www.stanford.edu/dept/english/courses/sites/lunsford/pages/defs.htm
Kenneth Burke: "Rhetoric is rooted in an essential function of language itself, a function that is wholly realistic and continually born anew: the use of language as a symbolic means of inducing cooperation in beings that by nature respond to symbols."
George Campbell: [Rhetoric] is that art or talent by which discourse is adapted to its end. The four ends of discourse are to enlighten the understanding, please the imagination, move the passion, and influence the will.
what about discourse as Inquiry?
Gerard A. Hauser: Introduction to Rhetorical Theory (1986)
Rhetoric is an instrumental use of language…. One person engages another person in an exchange of symbols to accomplish some goal. It is not communication for communication's sake. Rhetoric is communication that attempts to coordinate social action. For this reason, rhetorical communication is explicitly pragmatic. Its goal is to influence human choices on specific matters that require immediate attention.
Sappho
Persuasion is Aphrodite's daughter: it is she who beguiles our mortal hearts (frg 90).
Poems and Fragments. Trans. Josephine Balmer. Seacaucus: Meadowland 1984.
Rhetoric Has a Shadow
So I wrote this more than a year ago when it took great self-control and every brain cell I had left to divert energy from gestating to writing my Master's Report. It's a rushwrite, of course. And it has it's moments, at least in the opening. And yes, "Rhetoric has a shadow" is the grandiose title of the .doc (blame it on the hormones or something) Feel free to comment.
Catherine Lamb stole my introduction. But Kenneth Burke stole my metaphor before I was born. But just because I didn’t write them first, doesn’t mean I have to abandon them. Besides, we’re all just footnotes to Aristotle and Plato anyway, right?
Imagine that you enter a parlor. You come late. When you arrive, others have long preceded you, and they are engaged in a heated discussion, a discussion too heated for them to pause and tell you exactly what it is about. In fact, the discussion had already begun long before any of them got there, so that no one present is qualified to retrace for you all the steps that had gone before. You listen for awhile, until you decide that you have caught the tenor of the argument; then you put in your oar. Someone answers; you answer him; another comes to your defense; another aligns himself against you, to either the embarrassment, or the gratification of your opponent, depending up on the quality of your ally’s assistance. However, the discussion is interminable. The hour grows late, you must depart. And you do depart, with the discussion still vigorously in progress.
--Kenneth Burke (The Philosophy of Literary Form 110-111)
“When I read this passage as a feminist, however, I ask questions that make me less comfortable about it. The “you” in it takes it for granted that he is invited and can enter the parlor; he also seems to have no doubts about being able to speak, using the proper forms, and being listened to once he speaks. His challenges are only those of timing and strategy. I, on the other hand, ask who has been invited and who has been left out. Why should only these forms be used and not others? Must we assume an antagonistic relationship between participants? What other parties can we imagine that might continue the conversation?” (Lamb 155).
Rhetoric has a shadow. Always the figure lingering in the dark alley. A threat. Or more often it is dismissed as “cookery” or “mere rhetoric.” A bag of tricks. Manipulation. Disassociated with the truth, so it must be full of lies.
And so we turn to what is safe, or if not safe, than established, about rhetoric—argument. Argument is all that is rhetoric is, or all that is salvageable, to most people.
I have a bone to pick with argument. I'm just not sure which bone. No, that's not true. I know which bone(s). I'm just too much of a pansy or a peacemaker or something to suck it up and actually pick at it/them. So here's to sucking!
Catherine Lamb stole my introduction. But Kenneth Burke stole my metaphor before I was born. But just because I didn’t write them first, doesn’t mean I have to abandon them. Besides, we’re all just footnotes to Aristotle and Plato anyway, right?
Imagine that you enter a parlor. You come late. When you arrive, others have long preceded you, and they are engaged in a heated discussion, a discussion too heated for them to pause and tell you exactly what it is about. In fact, the discussion had already begun long before any of them got there, so that no one present is qualified to retrace for you all the steps that had gone before. You listen for awhile, until you decide that you have caught the tenor of the argument; then you put in your oar. Someone answers; you answer him; another comes to your defense; another aligns himself against you, to either the embarrassment, or the gratification of your opponent, depending up on the quality of your ally’s assistance. However, the discussion is interminable. The hour grows late, you must depart. And you do depart, with the discussion still vigorously in progress.
--Kenneth Burke (The Philosophy of Literary Form 110-111)
“When I read this passage as a feminist, however, I ask questions that make me less comfortable about it. The “you” in it takes it for granted that he is invited and can enter the parlor; he also seems to have no doubts about being able to speak, using the proper forms, and being listened to once he speaks. His challenges are only those of timing and strategy. I, on the other hand, ask who has been invited and who has been left out. Why should only these forms be used and not others? Must we assume an antagonistic relationship between participants? What other parties can we imagine that might continue the conversation?” (Lamb 155).
Rhetoric has a shadow. Always the figure lingering in the dark alley. A threat. Or more often it is dismissed as “cookery” or “mere rhetoric.” A bag of tricks. Manipulation. Disassociated with the truth, so it must be full of lies.
And so we turn to what is safe, or if not safe, than established, about rhetoric—argument. Argument is all that is rhetoric is, or all that is salvageable, to most people.
I have a bone to pick with argument. I'm just not sure which bone. No, that's not true. I know which bone(s). I'm just too much of a pansy or a peacemaker or something to suck it up and actually pick at it/them. So here's to sucking!
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