This Year’s New Technique To Contemplate

So far this year I have not come across a new composition trick to try, at least not borrowed from someone else as I have in years past. Recently, I have realized one of my own which I intend to keep as an experiment to see if it bears sharing or implementing in composition classes starting this fall.

As usual, the last few weeks of the semester are busy with writing exam and study guides, and grading. For most instructors, I imagine, this time of the year involves putting one’s own projects either on hold or slow-down mode. In my case, I was holding off on spending sustained amount of time on a book review, drafting a conference paper, researching and drafting a second conference paper, and 4 CFPs (two due within the next week, the others not until fall). There’s also a writing project to pick back up, but that’s part of another story, as is the design of a summer syllabus. On top of all this, I had some family in town.

The past two days, I have been getting back into my usual pattern of being able to spend more than 30 minutes at a time on a particular project. I started to notice a trend. My grades were due two weeks ago Wednesday, but then the next two days (Th-Fri) I was struggling a bit to get back to work, which was a problem because of some looming deadlines. I took that first Monday off, mostly to get family to the airport, and then the next two days I was suddenly able to get productive. Part of this might be the day or two off, but I think it was more due to how I was spending my self-imposed work time.

In two days, I was able to draft 1 CFP, complete the book review and send it off, and draft the first conference paper (due to be given Friday- as in 2 days from now), in addition to getting some outlining done for my summer course. Not to mention only spending about 5 hours per day in my office and not doing scholarly-type work at home; a much needed spring deep clean of the home is currently underway, plus I have really started to get attached to the idea of keeping home for myself and not work if at all possible.

Here’s my new (to me at least) composition/scholarly technique: work on one thing until it starts to get difficult, then switch over to another thing for a while, and when that gets to be a struggle, switch to something else, etc., coming back to the first thing the next day with fresh mind and eyes. While I admit that sometimes just staring at something for a while can be effective, more often than not, that can be a waste of time, just like fighting the sleepies for an hour vs a 30-minute nap.

Another version of this is spend an hour on one project, then switch to another, etc., and repeat the cycle the next day. This way progress is continually made on multiple items, and there isn’t as much frustration about getting stuck on something even if a deadline is getting close. Avoiding some of the mental fatigue like this also seems to help keep the temptation to take a brain break on social media at bay, which can turn into a big unproductive time-suck as well.

The more I think about it, this seems to be related to several well-established bits of time-management-when-it-comes-to-studying advice. First, there’s the idea that cramming is less effective than frequent short bursts. Then there’s the idea of stopping just before you’ve run out of ideas so that you have somewhere to start next time. Lastly, there’s just listening to yourself and knowing your mental status, and what’s possible as a result. If I need to write both a paper and a course, if I feel more like one than the other, then why not work on what feels better if both need doing on similar timelines?

Another benefit of such a practice is that you have an automatic reason to get up and move at least a little after each hour or so. This is probably as good mentally as it is physically.

Last but not least, I would note that there will be days where any particular technique just won’t work. Maybe you’re just tired, or not feeling as good as usual, or just not focused for whatever reason. The key to any good system is flexibility, and some days you might just start something and be able to easily keep going for hours. I find this often happens more with repetitive tasks, like looking up and recording all instances of a certain word in Chaucer’s corpus in preparation for starting on a conference paper or setting up a class website in a course management system. It’s monotonous, not creative, often dull, and necessary prep work that has a definite deadline.

For now, I’m going to see how well this works out, before I start figuring out ways to adapt this into classroom settings and scenarios. But that’s not to say I can’t/won’t be noting ideas or possibilities. Composition techniques like this don’t seem to work well as general recommendations presented in lecture; they’re more likely to be effective when modeled in class and then tied to possible outside of class uses. Or alternatively, modeled in a homework or out of classroom assignment, then discussed in class. I don’t have anything exact in mind yet, but I’ll be working on that the next week or so when I really get my summer course calendar built up beyond its current outline state.

Thoughts on a Theory Kick

I remember a certain professor in graduate school who seemed to think that modern theory had little application for the study of medieval literature. I’m not going to take up that argument here, rather I’m suggesting that medieval ideas and texts offer some interesting challenges in terms of applications for modern theories. Take Joseph Campbell and his hero’s journey. Medieval literature is hugely influenced by myth and folklore, so there is some application there. However, there is also the question of the chivalric romance. Many of these stories feature stories that star “heroes” who go on journeys, and yet they don’t quite fit the pattern presented by Campbell. King Arthur stories comes to mind. Something like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight might work out in terms of following the monomyth, but Lancelot? Even Galahad, by Malory’s version at least, doesn’t quite fit the pattern on account of being too perfect. I have to wonder whether or not anyone has really tried this kind of theory on these stories beyond Arthur himself; it would be pretty interesting to see the results for anyone of the other Knights of the Round Table. A quick Google search suggests that there’s plenty out there on Arthur, but not much on other individual knights. On a side-note, there was one comparison or suggestion of tracing Tiger Wood’s career as following the monomyth alongside Harry Potter or King Arthur.

Propp’s 31 functions and 7 characters is another interesting case. With this one, the Arthuriana seems like it would fit reasonably well. However, I wonder whether or not a medieval story collection of mostly folk and common stories, like the Canterbury Tales, would hold up. The popularity of the frame narrative and story collection was pretty high in mid to late medieval Europe, and certain tales might work well, I wonder what a story-within-a-story would do to Propp’s ideas. While Propp does allow for repetition within the functions sequence, I have my doubts that the interweaving of stories within a master narrative would work. Admittedly, Propp’s theory was designed specifically for fairy tales, but even so, what happens if the fairy tale in question is part of a larger narrative, and an unfinished one at that?

Bakhtin is already in use and was in some ways designed especially for medieval narratives, including his ideas about discourse, heteroglossia, polyphony, and the carnivalesque. The ideas of the carnivalesque were borrowed from medieval carnival practices, and the dialogic stuff is still an approach used in manuscript and marginalia studies as well as literary studies. The Canterbury Tales has been examined from several of these approaches with genuine effort (as in un-ironic). But, there was a second frame story collection that was well known and influential in the Middle Ages: Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Both the Metamorphoses and some of The Canterbury Tales include scenarios, characters, and settings that meet the general definition of fantasy that involve the use of a frame story.  So then the question becomes, how seriously should the frames and the narratives they contain be taken? Chaucer’s frame has been observed to contain some degree of satire, but how about the Metamorphoses? It’s frame as a history of the world sets up a more serious tone on Ovid’s part. So the question becomes what would a more Bakhtinian reading of some of the escapades and the many problems of communication do to an interpretation of medieval versions like the Ovid Moralisé?

Gender and queer studies of various approaches are also in current use towards all kinds of texts, as are multicultural approaches and those which consider race. Travel and Crusade narratives provide a point of consideration for considering race, which Geraldine Heng gets into in her recent book The Invention of Race in the European Middle Ages. As general understanding about such concepts changes in the modern world, every so often, a re-evaluation of how they might help in understanding the medieval consideration of the same kinds of questions and issues might reflect an update in understanding or thinking. How the Middle Ages thought about Ovid’s Metamorphoses for example would change if the definitions and perception of gender and consent being applied had shifted substantially.

Theories like deconstruction and psychoanalysis are no longer as popular as they used to be, at least not in their original forms, and I’m guessing a good part of that at least in relation to medieval literature has to do with the recognition of the complexity of dealing with texts many centuries old. Derrida’s notion that language is fundamentally impossible to fully understand or assess is not particularly compatible with the reasonably recent notion that much medieval literature contains components that have gone unrecognized, and as such must now be studied. The connections between western Europe and the Middle East and parts of Asia and Africa are currently a topic of interest for many medieval scholars, and it almost seems like Derrida’s theory would sound like a poor excuse to ignore an important but until now overlooked or oppressed existence or perspective. I do have to wonder what applying Freud in any kind of depth to a fabliau would do beyond attempt to destroy the humor.

Semiotics and its focus on how meaning can be created using language still has some utility although the theory doesn’t seem to be terribly popular at the moment. The social side of language such as Barthes thought of it might make for an interesting consideration of something like the Harley lyrics or the riddles of the Exeter book which engages the question of how big a role should historical or cultural context play in interpretation, and how possible such analysis really is from a non-native perspective; non-native here refers both to time and place.

Even the New Critical focus on close reading and the-text-and-nothing-but-the-text is problematic for medieval works since they are so far separated in time and culture from any current scholar that without context, any real level of comprehension would be difficult if not impossible. Take Pearl for example. As a text alone, and no reference to medieval dream vision or theology, the story is superficial, and what narrative and character information would survive leads to only minimal understanding. Even the technical prowess of the text would have less meaning since a lot of the rhyme and numerical meaning depends on knowledge external of the text.

I’m also thinking that medieval theories and practices might have some interesting results when paired with modern texts and theories. But that’s another discussion.