tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post4110197798890743178..comments2024-03-10T20:46:19.274-04:00Comments on In the Middle: First Week, First StoriesCord J. Whitakerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06224143153295429986noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-77508569402816382232007-09-03T09:38:00.000-04:002007-09-03T09:38:00.000-04:00Why does the monstrous have to be opposed to the b...<I>Why does the monstrous have to be opposed to the beautiful? </I><BR/><BR/>Thanks for the comment, and that's a tangent that will finds it use once we get to the Song of Roland or The History and Topography of Ireland.<BR/><BR/>Brilliant? Well, it worked... that's a lovely story, Jeffrey, and I've love to hear more. <BR/><BR/>Brandon, I'm pretty impressed by that student comment. It's a rare thing for a beginning student to make connections to other works of literature, it's rare for a student to admit not knowing, and it's the rarest thing of all for a student to think not in terms of <I>character</I> or "relatability" but rather in terms of literature dealing with <I>problems.</I> It sounds like you have a real gem. If you have more than one student like this, your semester should be great.<BR/><BR/>Other moments from the first week:<BR/><BR/>Introducing my Bible as Literature class via: the multiplicity of what counts as "Bible," and the need to keep theology out of this classroom. On this, I gave my background (church 3 times a week for my first 17 years, an atheist now for more than 20 years), and one of my students raised her hand and asked, "Are you personally offended by teaching this class?" <I>Perfect.</I> Again, couldn't ask for a better question for introducing how we'd talk about things in this class.<BR/><BR/>There's also the subquestion of how much our readings in high theory make their way into the classroom. Nicola has his English 2 class reading parts of The Coming Community (which, as I've told him, I think is delightful...and nuts), and I worked Homo Sacer into my Bible course. How?<BR/><BR/>Cain travels to the land of Nod. Nod, in Hebrew, means 'Wandering.' It's a place that's not a place at all. There's somehow an analogy between the Wandering-Place and the human reduced to bare life. I tried to work it out, but I think I slipped off the trapeze this time: I'm going to try to work it around tomorrow, when I talk about Abraham and place....Karl Steelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03353370018006849747noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-70459774098206804022007-08-31T18:40:00.000-04:002007-08-31T18:40:00.000-04:00The first week went well for me--but I'm without m...The first week went well for me--but I'm without major epiphanies to relate. I am, of course, teaching a freshman English writing seminar, not a literature course, so it's a different type of beast than those described here by Karl and JJC. Two thoughts do stick out, however; the first humorous (though showing the work I may have to do this semester) and the second a proud moment.<BR/><BR/>In a first-day in-class writing assignment (to obtain base-line writing so I know where students are at right from the start), one student wrote the following:<BR/><I>When I see singular writings such as this [a passage from Susan Griffin's essay, "Our Secret"] that bemoan a problem or sadness I do not appreciate the piece. <B>Metamorphosis</B> by Kafka, from my mildly informed perspective, was about... actually I can't remember what it was about. However, the book thematically complained about a problem without proposing where to go from there.</I><BR/>This presents a humorous moment in the student's writing, but also points to a part of "academic writing" that I will have to probe and discuss in class.<BR/><BR/>The same student, however, also was one of the first to comment on the first reading assignment (the whole of Susan Griffin's "Our Secret") and the interweaving parts of narrative, small vignettes, and philosophical reflections--and the student's comment was a profound statement about how all of the seemingly fragmentary sections work together thematically. It was a moment when I realized that maybe the students were actually <I>getting</I> the piece and the subtlety of its argument and framework.bwhawkhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17909010609907741198noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-75930202814793993702007-08-31T15:07:00.000-04:002007-08-31T15:07:00.000-04:00Why does the monstrous have to be opposed to the b...Why does the monstrous have to be opposed to the beautiful? Didn't Medusa turn people to stone because her snaky head was so stunningly aesthetic? Isn't Grendel's severed head <EM> wliteseon wrætlic</EM> [wrætlic, "artful, ornamental"; wlite-seon, "beauty-sight"]?<BR/><BR/>But I don't want to bring us away on a tangent: congratulations on teaching such a brilliant first class. I love moments like those, when you feel like your students get it and the whole pedagogical enterprise is worth the labor it demands to do it well. A moment that will stay with me forever occurred when I taught my first "Medieval Lit" class -- actually, my first class -- at GW in fall 1994. I fumbled my way through the semester, but had been open from the start with my students that I was not a very experienced teacher and that I was trying hard to better my craft. On the last day of the course the students spontaneously showed up with food and drinks. We sat around for a long time discussing where'd we'd been, and how all of us had been surprised at the routes we had followed. The class was supposed to end at 5:30, but none of us could bear to see it conclude. We lingered for a long time. That course taught me how important it is to be honest in the classroom, even when honesty makes you vulnerable. It also emphasized for me the dangers of overplanning: there has to be room for serendipity, vagrancy, no matter how many times you've taught the same materials.Jeffrey Cohenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17346504393740520542noreply@blogger.com