Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Disagreeing with Bernstein

In his essay, "Frame Lock," Charles Bernstein states that writing in an academic setting has become too rigid and cold. He argues for a more lenient and personally expressive style of writing to be used in scholarly contexts. He says in a rather long-winded statement, "I diagnose the problem as 'frame lock,' a kind of logorrheic lock jaw, or sandy mouth, or bullet-with-the-baby-not-just-quite-then-almost-out-of-reach, as a mood swinging under a noose of monomaniacal monotones, the converted preaching to the incontrovertible, the guard rail replacing the banisters, stairs, stories, elevation, detonation reverberation, indecision, concomitant intensification system." More or less, he is arguing that there is a block that typical academic-styled writing creates between the writer and sincerity, or at least clarity.

Personally, I would have to disagree, even though I can definitely see his point. Sure, I hate the academic style as much as the next student. I don't like to read it; surely in any other situation there would be far more effective and efficient ways to make and prove a point than with complicated jargon and words that no sane person should ever use in front of an audience. It is often trite, confusing, and boring. Even now, I am choosing to write in a more expressive, personal and conversational tone.

However, there is a time and place for everything. One must consider his or her audience. Unfortunately for innocent, layman bystanders, the target audience for academic writing is the elite. The tone suits the purpose in this situation. Jargon is often the most effective way to communicate among those who understand, and those are the only people who would really benefit from the information, anyway. Usually these articles are written in highly specialized and detailed areas that simply do not relate to the general populous, but instead to a similarly specialized and small group. Jargon is a good way to form shortcuts in such situations. Therefore, the academic would not be inappropriate in the given context, but rather prudent.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

On "The English Apparatus"

In Textual Power, Robert Scholes makes one main argument, which is that English as it is taught in institutions of higher learning is treated as far too sacred and concrete. He offers the idea that perhaps things are a bit too stiff and systematic in English departments, and universities should consider taking a fresh, new approach that apply students practically, rather than theoretically, to the learning process.

In the text, Scholes presents a similar dichotomy in English education as Graff's essay did -- that "creative writing" vs. literature education are treated as completely separate within the department, and that that should change. While he doesn't seem to favor one over the other, he does promote reform in both.

Specifically, he argues that creative writing should be taken a bit more seriously, which would reflect a lack of trivialization of the educational process itself and perhaps instill in students a higher sense of accomplishment and progress within their schooling.

On the literature education subject, he makes the point that one's reaction to literature cannot necessarily be dictated, and so literature classes should, again, be more practical than a simple summary over a work. In this he expresses a wish to blur the lines between creativity and literature studies, promoting a more creative and personalized response technique to the writing.

Overall, it seems to be Scholes' intent to show that English education can be improved by taking a new perspective that can, in his opinion, affect students more positively. The text is very much focused on individualization and how it can improve a student's educational experience.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

On Reading Montaigne

Unfortunately, illness is keeping me out of the classroom today, but I can still discuss my impressions here.

Montaigne's writing is surprisingly more accessible than I had originally anticipated. I was expecting something along the lines of the complexity of Lamb for some reason, but what I got was something simple, understandable, and not unenjoyable. It shocked me how small my vocabulary expansion list was for this author, at least so far -- this certainly does not detract from the writing, as I appreciate artful simplicity. I was not able to make any progress into "Virgil," but his other essays are fairly memorable.

I thought "On a Monstrous Child" was an interesting perspective on Siamese twins. It was unusual, in the context of this day and age, to read a less "tolerant" of an individual with a birth defect. In contrast, there was a strange innocent tone, almost, that accompanied what might today be considered medical ignorance.

"On Books" was a good account of the literature at the time. Montaigne obviously felt strongly about reading and it definitely shows. My favorite part was when he mentioned "attacking" books, and how if after two attacks he didn't fully grasp the text, he simply moved on to the next portion. It is an odd thing to have impressed upon me, but as a book lover with a surprisingly slow reading pace and perhaps a bit poor comprehension, I could definitely relate.