Benjamin A. Railton's Blog, page 403
September 11, 2012
September 11, 2012: John Singer Sargent
[There are few Boston sites that I would more highly recommend for a fall visit—for anybody, from tourists to lifelong residents, students to seniors, and American Studiers of all varieties—than the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. For this week’s series, I’ll be blogging about five topics connected to the Museum and its historical and cultural contexts. Please add your responses, and your suggestions for other unique American sites and experiences, for the weekend’s crowd-sourced post!]
On the diverse talents of the Museum’s most prominently featured American painter.As I noted in yesterday’s post, John Singer Sargent was perhaps Isabella Stewart Gardner’s closest friend, across much of her inspiring life—his portrait of a young Gardner in Venice is probably the most famous image of her, and his portrait of the aging Gardner represents one of (to reiterate what I said yesterday) the most humanizing and powerful American images period. He also painted many other portraits of Gardner in between, and many of them, along with other Sargent works and paintings by some of his American contemporaries, are prominently featured in one of the Museum’s most intimate and compelling rooms. In a lot of ways Sargent could be said to be the Museum’s Muse, just as Gardner seems to have been his, and taken together the two of them offer as impressive a picture of the American artistic scene (particularly as it came into its own at the turn of the 20thcentury) as any I’ve encountered.Just as the Gardner Museum’s impressiveness goes well beyond Sargent’s presence, of course, so too does Sargent’s importance to American artextend beyond the Museum’s Venetian walls. Sargent’s most prominent and influential works were his portraits, and I would argue that he brought the same kind of pioneering realistic style and perspective to these works that literary contemporaries such as William Dean Howells and Henry James did to their novels. Sargent wasn’t alone in that advancement, but he certainly ranks alongside his sometimes more acclaimed peers such as Thomas Eakins and Winslow Homer in helping move American portraiture and painting forward in this way. Similarly, Sargent certainly built upon the legacies of prior prominent innovators of the American portrait, such as Gilbert Stuart and Charles Wilson Peale, but he extended and amplified their efforts and to my mind deserves the same place in our national artistic tradition.Yet Sargent’s stylistic and thematic innovations aren’t limited to that one genre. His biography and life were even more international than Gardner’s—he was born in Italy to American parents, trained with Italian, German, and French masters, and spent much of his adult life in Europe—and he brought that transnational identity to his artistic career. Stylistically, for example, his training with the Frenchman Charles Emile Auguste Carolus-Duran emphasized a new method of painting directly on the canvas (rather than drawing and prepping first), one that certainly contributed to the more humanistic and realistic feel to Sargent’s works. And perhaps due to his increased exposure to the French Impressionists, Sargent turned later in his career to watercolors, producing more than 700 such works between 1900 and 1914; moreover, in those works he consistently portrayed European scenes, including many drawn from his and Gardner’s beloved Venice. If Eakins and Homer are thus more clearly and overtly American artists, Sargent exemplifies the same international influences and inspiration as Gardner—and to the same great effect.Next Gardner Museum link tomorrow,BenPS. What do you think? Other American artists you’d highlight?9/11 Memory Day nominee: Daniel Akaka, the soon-to-be-retired Hawaii Senator who is both the first
On the diverse talents of the Museum’s most prominently featured American painter.As I noted in yesterday’s post, John Singer Sargent was perhaps Isabella Stewart Gardner’s closest friend, across much of her inspiring life—his portrait of a young Gardner in Venice is probably the most famous image of her, and his portrait of the aging Gardner represents one of (to reiterate what I said yesterday) the most humanizing and powerful American images period. He also painted many other portraits of Gardner in between, and many of them, along with other Sargent works and paintings by some of his American contemporaries, are prominently featured in one of the Museum’s most intimate and compelling rooms. In a lot of ways Sargent could be said to be the Museum’s Muse, just as Gardner seems to have been his, and taken together the two of them offer as impressive a picture of the American artistic scene (particularly as it came into its own at the turn of the 20thcentury) as any I’ve encountered.Just as the Gardner Museum’s impressiveness goes well beyond Sargent’s presence, of course, so too does Sargent’s importance to American artextend beyond the Museum’s Venetian walls. Sargent’s most prominent and influential works were his portraits, and I would argue that he brought the same kind of pioneering realistic style and perspective to these works that literary contemporaries such as William Dean Howells and Henry James did to their novels. Sargent wasn’t alone in that advancement, but he certainly ranks alongside his sometimes more acclaimed peers such as Thomas Eakins and Winslow Homer in helping move American portraiture and painting forward in this way. Similarly, Sargent certainly built upon the legacies of prior prominent innovators of the American portrait, such as Gilbert Stuart and Charles Wilson Peale, but he extended and amplified their efforts and to my mind deserves the same place in our national artistic tradition.Yet Sargent’s stylistic and thematic innovations aren’t limited to that one genre. His biography and life were even more international than Gardner’s—he was born in Italy to American parents, trained with Italian, German, and French masters, and spent much of his adult life in Europe—and he brought that transnational identity to his artistic career. Stylistically, for example, his training with the Frenchman Charles Emile Auguste Carolus-Duran emphasized a new method of painting directly on the canvas (rather than drawing and prepping first), one that certainly contributed to the more humanistic and realistic feel to Sargent’s works. And perhaps due to his increased exposure to the French Impressionists, Sargent turned later in his career to watercolors, producing more than 700 such works between 1900 and 1914; moreover, in those works he consistently portrayed European scenes, including many drawn from his and Gardner’s beloved Venice. If Eakins and Homer are thus more clearly and overtly American artists, Sargent exemplifies the same international influences and inspiration as Gardner—and to the same great effect.Next Gardner Museum link tomorrow,BenPS. What do you think? Other American artists you’d highlight?9/11 Memory Day nominee: Daniel Akaka, the soon-to-be-retired Hawaii Senator who is both the first
September 10, 2012
September 10, 2012: Isabella Stewart Gardner
[There are few Boston sites that I would more highly recommend for a fall visit—for anybody, from tourists to lifelong residents, students to seniors, and American Studiers of all varieties—than the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. For this week’s series, I’ll be blogging about five topics connected to the Museum and its historical and cultural contexts. Please add your responses, and your suggestions for other unique American sites and experiences, for the weekend’s crowd-sourced post!]
On the inspiring life and the legacy of the woman herself.On the surface, Isabella Stewart Gardner’s life would seem to exemplify an upper class experience of Gilded Age America. Born into a wealthy New York family, she married into an even wealthier one—her husband John “Jack” Gardner was the descendent of generations of Boston Brahmins on both sides of his family—and benefitted from those connections immensely: traveling extensively throughout Europe and Asia, befriending numerous painters and artists, serving as a patron to many of them as well as to organizations such as the Boston Symphony, commandeering the Boston social scene for many decades, and so on. It was not a life without significant losses—her only child, a son, died at the age of two; she outlived her beloved husband by more than a quarter-century—but certainly it was a life of great privilege and all that comes with it; as Bruce Springsteen put it, “a life of leisure and a pirate’s treasure / Don’t make much for tragedy.”Indeed they don’t—but the key question to ask of Isabella Stewart Gardner is what she did make of her life, and the answer is on multiple levels very inspiring. In her private life, Gardner followed her passions and loves without (it seems) the slightest worry about what was considered proper or how she might be perceived—some of those loves were stereotypically highbrow (Venice, the opera, priceless art and antiques), but others were anything but (Red Sox baseball and Harvard football, boxing and horse racing, entertainments and adventures wherever and however she could find them). In response to the rumors and gossip that often sprang up around her, Gardner simply noted, “Don’t spoil a good story by telling the truth” and continued to live her life. Even more inspiringly, her relationships with the artists and authors she befriended were far from simply financial or one-way streets—John Singer Sargent, the painter to whom she was particularly close (and on whom more tomorrow), considered her a lifelong friend, and his painting of her from two years before her death is one of the most sensitive and powerful portraits ever produced in America.Gardner’s legacy, as embodied in and exemplified by the Museum, is more inspring still. Literally every aspect of the Museum—known at its 1903 opening as Fenway Court—represents Gardner’s own design and inspiration, from its Fenway location to its use of a transported three-story Venetian palace, the arrangements and specifics of each room to the courtyard’s precise details of colors, flowers, and more. Gardner’s will bequeathed a substantial amount to the upkeep and expansion of the Museum, with the requirement that it maintain her vision and choices. And most importantly, that vision was anything but a Gilded Age stereotype: she hoped that the Museum could serve “for the education and enrichment of the public forever,” and openly and passionately hoped that all Americans could have the chance to visit the Museum and experience its artistic, cultural, historical, and educational environment and effects. Such goals are perhaps not unlike other Gilded Age figures’ Gospel of Wealth, of philanthropic giving coupled to vast fortunes—but in Gardner’s case, she offered not just her wealth but every inch of her identity and perspective, of what she cared about and what she most valued. You can feel that gift in every inch of the Museum.Next Gardner Museum link tomorrow,BenPS. What do you think? Takes on the Gardner? Other unique places and spaces you’d highlight?9/10 Memory Day nominees: A tie between two iconoclastic, influential, and impressive20thcentury American authorsand voices, H.D. (Hilda Doolittle) and Stephen Jay Gould.
On the inspiring life and the legacy of the woman herself.On the surface, Isabella Stewart Gardner’s life would seem to exemplify an upper class experience of Gilded Age America. Born into a wealthy New York family, she married into an even wealthier one—her husband John “Jack” Gardner was the descendent of generations of Boston Brahmins on both sides of his family—and benefitted from those connections immensely: traveling extensively throughout Europe and Asia, befriending numerous painters and artists, serving as a patron to many of them as well as to organizations such as the Boston Symphony, commandeering the Boston social scene for many decades, and so on. It was not a life without significant losses—her only child, a son, died at the age of two; she outlived her beloved husband by more than a quarter-century—but certainly it was a life of great privilege and all that comes with it; as Bruce Springsteen put it, “a life of leisure and a pirate’s treasure / Don’t make much for tragedy.”Indeed they don’t—but the key question to ask of Isabella Stewart Gardner is what she did make of her life, and the answer is on multiple levels very inspiring. In her private life, Gardner followed her passions and loves without (it seems) the slightest worry about what was considered proper or how she might be perceived—some of those loves were stereotypically highbrow (Venice, the opera, priceless art and antiques), but others were anything but (Red Sox baseball and Harvard football, boxing and horse racing, entertainments and adventures wherever and however she could find them). In response to the rumors and gossip that often sprang up around her, Gardner simply noted, “Don’t spoil a good story by telling the truth” and continued to live her life. Even more inspiringly, her relationships with the artists and authors she befriended were far from simply financial or one-way streets—John Singer Sargent, the painter to whom she was particularly close (and on whom more tomorrow), considered her a lifelong friend, and his painting of her from two years before her death is one of the most sensitive and powerful portraits ever produced in America.Gardner’s legacy, as embodied in and exemplified by the Museum, is more inspring still. Literally every aspect of the Museum—known at its 1903 opening as Fenway Court—represents Gardner’s own design and inspiration, from its Fenway location to its use of a transported three-story Venetian palace, the arrangements and specifics of each room to the courtyard’s precise details of colors, flowers, and more. Gardner’s will bequeathed a substantial amount to the upkeep and expansion of the Museum, with the requirement that it maintain her vision and choices. And most importantly, that vision was anything but a Gilded Age stereotype: she hoped that the Museum could serve “for the education and enrichment of the public forever,” and openly and passionately hoped that all Americans could have the chance to visit the Museum and experience its artistic, cultural, historical, and educational environment and effects. Such goals are perhaps not unlike other Gilded Age figures’ Gospel of Wealth, of philanthropic giving coupled to vast fortunes—but in Gardner’s case, she offered not just her wealth but every inch of her identity and perspective, of what she cared about and what she most valued. You can feel that gift in every inch of the Museum.Next Gardner Museum link tomorrow,BenPS. What do you think? Takes on the Gardner? Other unique places and spaces you’d highlight?9/10 Memory Day nominees: A tie between two iconoclastic, influential, and impressive20thcentury American authorsand voices, H.D. (Hilda Doolittle) and Stephen Jay Gould.
September 8, 2012
September 8-9, 2012: Fall Forward, Part Five
[I’m on my first sabbatical this fall, and will be working on a bunch of different projects. All of them could benefit from the input and ideas of my fellow American Studiers, and so this week I’ll be blogging about a handful of those projects and asking for your contributions (not financial, it’s a paid sabbatical). I’d love to hear your thoughts! And please feel free to share some of what you’re working on too, so I can return the favor.]
On three ways to get involved with the New England American Studies Association.I’ve written a lot about NEASA in this space, of course, including numerous posts on last fall’s conference at Plimoth Plantation and this spring’s colloquium at the House of the Seven Gables. For this fall’s conference (to be held on October 12-13 at the University of Rhode Island’s Providence campus) I have passed the organizational baton to the current president, Sara Sikes, her co-vice presidents Elif Armbrusterand Akeia Benard, and a great conference committee; but that doesn’t mean I won’t stay connected to NEASA this fall (I hope to have such a connection throughout my career), nor that I won’t keep pimping the organization here. To wit, here are three ways you can and should further your own connection to NEASA, wherever you live and work:1) The Pre-Conference Blog: Just as we did last year, we’re hosting a pre-conference blog where many of the conference’s speakers and participants are sharing their work and ideas ahead of October’s conversations. There are already a ton of really interesting posts up, on many different aspects of digital humanities and American Studies. Check ‘em out, add comments and responses, and keep coming back over the next couple months!2) The conference itself: Is shaping up very nicely, including a full and diverse program, great keynote and plenary panels, a Friday evening reading and event, and a lot more. All of that and many other details are at that link; just as was the case last year, we’re offering a $20 Attendee registration rate, so if you’re anywhere near Providence, please consider joining us in mid-October! But no matter where you are, we plan to have a significant online presence for the conference, including a Twitter feed and more. So keep your eyes on that space, this space, and the web’s American Studies and #dh spaces in general, and join us from everywhere!3) The year to come: Like many such organizations, NEASA depends for its continued existence and strength on the participation and voices of as large and diverse a group of American Studiers as possible. For some of that you’d need to be in New England, and so partly I’m speaking to you guys—consider joining the NEASA Council! Watch this space and come to the spring colloquium (wherever it is and whatever it ends up focusing on)! But increasingly, organizations like this are digital and online as well, and so if you want to take part, not just in the fall’s efforts but in all that NEASA does moving forward, you can and should do so from anywhere in the world. Email me (brailton@fitchburgstate.edu) for more info about any of this, or if you’re interested in adding your voice right now, and thanks!Next series next week,BenPS. What are you working on this fall?9/8 Memory Day nominee: Joshua Chamberlain, for all of that and for his inspiring life beyond.9/9 Memory Day nominee: Otis Redding, who in his tragically short life created some of the most compelling and powerful American music of the century.
On three ways to get involved with the New England American Studies Association.I’ve written a lot about NEASA in this space, of course, including numerous posts on last fall’s conference at Plimoth Plantation and this spring’s colloquium at the House of the Seven Gables. For this fall’s conference (to be held on October 12-13 at the University of Rhode Island’s Providence campus) I have passed the organizational baton to the current president, Sara Sikes, her co-vice presidents Elif Armbrusterand Akeia Benard, and a great conference committee; but that doesn’t mean I won’t stay connected to NEASA this fall (I hope to have such a connection throughout my career), nor that I won’t keep pimping the organization here. To wit, here are three ways you can and should further your own connection to NEASA, wherever you live and work:1) The Pre-Conference Blog: Just as we did last year, we’re hosting a pre-conference blog where many of the conference’s speakers and participants are sharing their work and ideas ahead of October’s conversations. There are already a ton of really interesting posts up, on many different aspects of digital humanities and American Studies. Check ‘em out, add comments and responses, and keep coming back over the next couple months!2) The conference itself: Is shaping up very nicely, including a full and diverse program, great keynote and plenary panels, a Friday evening reading and event, and a lot more. All of that and many other details are at that link; just as was the case last year, we’re offering a $20 Attendee registration rate, so if you’re anywhere near Providence, please consider joining us in mid-October! But no matter where you are, we plan to have a significant online presence for the conference, including a Twitter feed and more. So keep your eyes on that space, this space, and the web’s American Studies and #dh spaces in general, and join us from everywhere!3) The year to come: Like many such organizations, NEASA depends for its continued existence and strength on the participation and voices of as large and diverse a group of American Studiers as possible. For some of that you’d need to be in New England, and so partly I’m speaking to you guys—consider joining the NEASA Council! Watch this space and come to the spring colloquium (wherever it is and whatever it ends up focusing on)! But increasingly, organizations like this are digital and online as well, and so if you want to take part, not just in the fall’s efforts but in all that NEASA does moving forward, you can and should do so from anywhere in the world. Email me (brailton@fitchburgstate.edu) for more info about any of this, or if you’re interested in adding your voice right now, and thanks!Next series next week,BenPS. What are you working on this fall?9/8 Memory Day nominee: Joshua Chamberlain, for all of that and for his inspiring life beyond.9/9 Memory Day nominee: Otis Redding, who in his tragically short life created some of the most compelling and powerful American music of the century.
September 7, 2012
September 7, 2012: Fall Forward, Part Four
[I’m on my first sabbatical this fall, and will be working on a bunch of different projects. All of them could benefit from the input and ideas of my fellow American Studiers, and so this week I’ll be blogging about a handful of those projects and asking for your contributions (not financial, it’s a paid sabbatical). I’d love to hear your thoughts! And please feel free to share some of what you’re working on too, so I can return the favor.]
On one specific question for my fellow American Studiers about my current book in progress.Despite all of my goals and plans for those other projects, and despite the one I’ll discuss in the weekend’s post and lots of other things that are percolating as well, I have to admit that to my mind a truly successful sabbatical will mean one thing and one thing only: the completion of a manuscript for my fourth book, Hard-Won Hope: How American Novels Find Light in Our Darkest Histories. As I wrote in this post, my most explicitly focused on the project, the book certainly owes its existence to my blogs, both the more personal one I kept for much of 2007 and, of course, this one. That makes it a communal product to be sure, the result of the ideas I’ve shared here (loyal readers will find that the book’s focal texts have almost all been covered in this space, often multiple times) and of the kinds of conversations I’ve had and connections I’ve made here. I would and will say the same of my hopefully forthcoming third book (currently under publisher’s review) and, frankly, of everything I write and work from now on.Compared to the other projects I’ve discussed this week, though, I still see a book as much more fundamentally individual and private, as something that a writer works on in his or her own space before sharing it with the communities beyond. I’m also superstitious enough not to want to say too much about it yet, as I’m afraid that might jinx the fall’s work in some way (not sure how exactly, but superstitions don’t have to be logical or rational to take hold, of course; don’t get me started on when the count is 2-2 and there are 2 outs and 2 runners on). So while I expect to provide at least one or two reminders and updates on those other projects as the sabbatical moves along, not least to make sure to give you (and all those new readers who will be joining us in the months to come!) lots of chances to share your voices and ideas, I don’t necessarily plan to provide the same play by play when it comes to Hard-Won Hope. To quote Westley, or more accurately the Dread Pirate Roberts, “Learn to live with disappointment” (it’ll be tough I know, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to cope).But with all of that said, I’m also a big believer that very few of our ideas are solely our own, that research is a communal process, and that each of my prior books has come as much out of conversation as out of the voices inside my own head. And when it comes to the book’s starting points, as described in that above-linked blog post, I have one main question on which I’d love to hear your thoughts, fellow American Studiers. My central idea, that it is only out of an engagement with our darkest histories that these novels’ characters (and thus readers) are able to find utopian futures, seeks in part to bring together two very different American traditions: the jeremiad, warnings about our fallen and sinful nature; and millennialism, the belief that we’re moving toward a glorious future. So my question is this: do you guys know of other ways, in our history, in our culture, in our scholarship, or anywhere else, that these traditions have been brought together? Ideas or places where realistic (if not pessimistic) critiques of our failings and yet utopian hopes for our future can coexist, and in fact have depended on one another? I’d love to learn about such ideas, so I can put mine in conversation with them explicitly and clearly. Thanks in advance! Last fall project this weekend,BenPS. You know what to do!9/7 Memory Day nominee: Jacob Lawrence!
On one specific question for my fellow American Studiers about my current book in progress.Despite all of my goals and plans for those other projects, and despite the one I’ll discuss in the weekend’s post and lots of other things that are percolating as well, I have to admit that to my mind a truly successful sabbatical will mean one thing and one thing only: the completion of a manuscript for my fourth book, Hard-Won Hope: How American Novels Find Light in Our Darkest Histories. As I wrote in this post, my most explicitly focused on the project, the book certainly owes its existence to my blogs, both the more personal one I kept for much of 2007 and, of course, this one. That makes it a communal product to be sure, the result of the ideas I’ve shared here (loyal readers will find that the book’s focal texts have almost all been covered in this space, often multiple times) and of the kinds of conversations I’ve had and connections I’ve made here. I would and will say the same of my hopefully forthcoming third book (currently under publisher’s review) and, frankly, of everything I write and work from now on.Compared to the other projects I’ve discussed this week, though, I still see a book as much more fundamentally individual and private, as something that a writer works on in his or her own space before sharing it with the communities beyond. I’m also superstitious enough not to want to say too much about it yet, as I’m afraid that might jinx the fall’s work in some way (not sure how exactly, but superstitions don’t have to be logical or rational to take hold, of course; don’t get me started on when the count is 2-2 and there are 2 outs and 2 runners on). So while I expect to provide at least one or two reminders and updates on those other projects as the sabbatical moves along, not least to make sure to give you (and all those new readers who will be joining us in the months to come!) lots of chances to share your voices and ideas, I don’t necessarily plan to provide the same play by play when it comes to Hard-Won Hope. To quote Westley, or more accurately the Dread Pirate Roberts, “Learn to live with disappointment” (it’ll be tough I know, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to cope).But with all of that said, I’m also a big believer that very few of our ideas are solely our own, that research is a communal process, and that each of my prior books has come as much out of conversation as out of the voices inside my own head. And when it comes to the book’s starting points, as described in that above-linked blog post, I have one main question on which I’d love to hear your thoughts, fellow American Studiers. My central idea, that it is only out of an engagement with our darkest histories that these novels’ characters (and thus readers) are able to find utopian futures, seeks in part to bring together two very different American traditions: the jeremiad, warnings about our fallen and sinful nature; and millennialism, the belief that we’re moving toward a glorious future. So my question is this: do you guys know of other ways, in our history, in our culture, in our scholarship, or anywhere else, that these traditions have been brought together? Ideas or places where realistic (if not pessimistic) critiques of our failings and yet utopian hopes for our future can coexist, and in fact have depended on one another? I’d love to learn about such ideas, so I can put mine in conversation with them explicitly and clearly. Thanks in advance! Last fall project this weekend,BenPS. You know what to do!9/7 Memory Day nominee: Jacob Lawrence!
September 6, 2012
September 6, 2012: Fall Forward, Part Three
[I’m on my first sabbatical this fall, and will be working on a bunch of different projects. All of them could benefit from the input and ideas of my fellow American Studiers, and so this week I’ll be blogging about a handful of those projects and asking for your contributions (not financial, it’s a paid sabbatical). I’d love to hear your thoughts! And please feel free to share some of what you’re working on too, so I can return the favor.]
On my new direction for an ongoing project—one which needs your help now more than ever!I’m written a few posts in the past, including this weekend special, about my NEH grant proposal for a traveling exhibition on contemporary immigrant American writers, to be hosted by the in-progress American Writers Museum. We heard back from the NEH earlier this month, and unfortunately the proposal and exhibition didn’t receive funding. But I’m not one to focus on the bad in bad news, and so have decided to try to come up with an online exhibition that’ll be equivalent to, or at least offer a version of, what we were hoping to do in the traveling exhibition. That means, for one thing, that the request in my weekend special post still stands—suggestions for contemporary immigrant writers (any genre, although now I suppose authors of short stories, poems, and other briefer works would be particularly welcome) will be very much appreciated and considered.But it also means that I’ve got some more planning to do. The AWM has already hosted one online exhibition on its website, and as you can see from the main site’s poll question is planning for more, so I’ll have some good models from which to work as I move forward. I also believe that some of the specific components to the existing proposal could work well in an online environment: a map tracing the migration routes of writers and their families could work even better as a digital document, with different key spots opening up to further pictures and information and the like; representations of author’s American places and spaces could likewise be constructed digitally and (for example) hyperlinked to each other and thus put in interesting conversation; and, most excitingly to me, the idea of visitors to the exhibition contributing pieces of their own family’s stories, voices and stories that could then become permanent parts of the exhibition, would be even more easily and fully realizable in an online exhibition. So I’m feeling good about the possibility of making this transition, and about what the online exhibition might become.Maybe the best part of taking on the online exhibition design myself, however, is that I can ask you all for input! The NEH proposal featured a great team of scholars, a couple of whom I wrote about in this post, and I’m certainly hoping that they can stay involved in one way or another. But while a grant proposal might not be able to list “As many American Studiers as possible!” as the scholarly design team, I’ve got no such compunctions when it comes to this online exhibition. So I’ll ask you—if you were going to design an online exhibition on late 20thand early 21st century immigrant writers, what might you include? That means content in part, but I’m just as interested in every other element: structure, sections, design, innovative digital components that I can’t even put in words because I’m just not quite there yet, and so on. Share your ideas here in comments or by email (brailton@fitchburgstate.edu), and I promise I’ll make sure you get credit as part of the exhibition’s design as we move forward and when it’s up, running, and as awesome as I know we’ll make it.Next fall project tomorrow,BenPS. You know what to do!9/6 Memory Day nominee: Jane Addams!
On my new direction for an ongoing project—one which needs your help now more than ever!I’m written a few posts in the past, including this weekend special, about my NEH grant proposal for a traveling exhibition on contemporary immigrant American writers, to be hosted by the in-progress American Writers Museum. We heard back from the NEH earlier this month, and unfortunately the proposal and exhibition didn’t receive funding. But I’m not one to focus on the bad in bad news, and so have decided to try to come up with an online exhibition that’ll be equivalent to, or at least offer a version of, what we were hoping to do in the traveling exhibition. That means, for one thing, that the request in my weekend special post still stands—suggestions for contemporary immigrant writers (any genre, although now I suppose authors of short stories, poems, and other briefer works would be particularly welcome) will be very much appreciated and considered.But it also means that I’ve got some more planning to do. The AWM has already hosted one online exhibition on its website, and as you can see from the main site’s poll question is planning for more, so I’ll have some good models from which to work as I move forward. I also believe that some of the specific components to the existing proposal could work well in an online environment: a map tracing the migration routes of writers and their families could work even better as a digital document, with different key spots opening up to further pictures and information and the like; representations of author’s American places and spaces could likewise be constructed digitally and (for example) hyperlinked to each other and thus put in interesting conversation; and, most excitingly to me, the idea of visitors to the exhibition contributing pieces of their own family’s stories, voices and stories that could then become permanent parts of the exhibition, would be even more easily and fully realizable in an online exhibition. So I’m feeling good about the possibility of making this transition, and about what the online exhibition might become.Maybe the best part of taking on the online exhibition design myself, however, is that I can ask you all for input! The NEH proposal featured a great team of scholars, a couple of whom I wrote about in this post, and I’m certainly hoping that they can stay involved in one way or another. But while a grant proposal might not be able to list “As many American Studiers as possible!” as the scholarly design team, I’ve got no such compunctions when it comes to this online exhibition. So I’ll ask you—if you were going to design an online exhibition on late 20thand early 21st century immigrant writers, what might you include? That means content in part, but I’m just as interested in every other element: structure, sections, design, innovative digital components that I can’t even put in words because I’m just not quite there yet, and so on. Share your ideas here in comments or by email (brailton@fitchburgstate.edu), and I promise I’ll make sure you get credit as part of the exhibition’s design as we move forward and when it’s up, running, and as awesome as I know we’ll make it.Next fall project tomorrow,BenPS. You know what to do!9/6 Memory Day nominee: Jane Addams!
September 5, 2012
September 5, 2012: Fall Forward, Part Two
[I’m on my first sabbatical this fall, and will be working on a bunch of different projects. All of them could benefit from the input and ideas of my fellow American Studiers, and so this week I’ll be blogging about a handful of those projects and asking for your contributions (not financial, it’s a paid sabbatical). I’d love to hear your thoughts! And please feel free to share some of what you’re working on too, so I can return the favor.]
On my goals for, and questions about, bringing some of my favorite courses into the digital age.When it comes to supplementing my in-class work with complementary uses of technology, I think I’m doing all right. Virtually every one of my courses uses either weekly email responses or weekly Blackboard posts, allowing me both to build discussions out of these existing student ideas shared (with me and/or with each other) between classes and to talk to students about papers and work in progress throughout the semester. I also use online versions of many shorter readings, keeping book prices down and giving my students’ access to far more content than would be the case in any one anthology or set of texts. Between those two most consistent uses of technology, I would say that students in most of my courses are reading, writing, and working online at least a couple of times a week, and are able to make decent use of their laptops in class (Fitchburg State has had a laptop initiative for many years now) as well.But of course reading and writing online, while easy for my students and better than no use of technology, in many ways aren’t radically different from reading and writing offline, or at least don’t use many other aspects of what’s available and possible in the digital realm. In the past year or two I have thus begun to feel that I’m not making the best use of technology, particularly in my two most frequently taught courses: part I and II of the American Literature survey. I even wrote an article about ways to enhance my work with content in those courses, focusing heavily on the use of technology as much to goad myself into further thought as to speak to other teachers. I like my syllabi and the main readings for those courses quite a bit—part I uses the first two volumes of the Norton Anthology of American Literature ; part II is grounded in six longer readings supplemented by short stories and poems available online—but I know that I’ve got to keep moving these courses forward, and am hoping this fall to do some significant work with those syllabi and to make technology and the digital key elements to those revisions.I could write more about my ideas, of course (and am happy to share my thoughts further in comment-conversations); but that linked article highlights some, and as with this whole series I’m especially interested in hearing your takes. So what are some ways you’ve used technology, digital sources, the web, and any related materials and/or content in your classes? (This question goes to students just as much as teachers!) Are there particular sites, particular sources, particular kinds of content, particular exercises or student work, that you have found to work better or work less well? Ways in which the non-digital still seems preferable or more successful? Or, if you’re still thinking about all these things too (and who isn’t these days?), what are some of the questions or problems you’re dealing with? What can we figure out together, as a community here?Thanks in advance for your thoughts, questions, and voices! Next fall project tomorrow,BenPS. You know what to do! Answers to any and all those questions, now and at any moment down the road, will be greatly appreciated and very valuable.9/5 Memory Day nominee: Amy Beach, the pianist and composer who is considered the first American woman to create large-scale artistic and symphonic music, and whose influence can still be felt in American music and culture.
On my goals for, and questions about, bringing some of my favorite courses into the digital age.When it comes to supplementing my in-class work with complementary uses of technology, I think I’m doing all right. Virtually every one of my courses uses either weekly email responses or weekly Blackboard posts, allowing me both to build discussions out of these existing student ideas shared (with me and/or with each other) between classes and to talk to students about papers and work in progress throughout the semester. I also use online versions of many shorter readings, keeping book prices down and giving my students’ access to far more content than would be the case in any one anthology or set of texts. Between those two most consistent uses of technology, I would say that students in most of my courses are reading, writing, and working online at least a couple of times a week, and are able to make decent use of their laptops in class (Fitchburg State has had a laptop initiative for many years now) as well.But of course reading and writing online, while easy for my students and better than no use of technology, in many ways aren’t radically different from reading and writing offline, or at least don’t use many other aspects of what’s available and possible in the digital realm. In the past year or two I have thus begun to feel that I’m not making the best use of technology, particularly in my two most frequently taught courses: part I and II of the American Literature survey. I even wrote an article about ways to enhance my work with content in those courses, focusing heavily on the use of technology as much to goad myself into further thought as to speak to other teachers. I like my syllabi and the main readings for those courses quite a bit—part I uses the first two volumes of the Norton Anthology of American Literature ; part II is grounded in six longer readings supplemented by short stories and poems available online—but I know that I’ve got to keep moving these courses forward, and am hoping this fall to do some significant work with those syllabi and to make technology and the digital key elements to those revisions.I could write more about my ideas, of course (and am happy to share my thoughts further in comment-conversations); but that linked article highlights some, and as with this whole series I’m especially interested in hearing your takes. So what are some ways you’ve used technology, digital sources, the web, and any related materials and/or content in your classes? (This question goes to students just as much as teachers!) Are there particular sites, particular sources, particular kinds of content, particular exercises or student work, that you have found to work better or work less well? Ways in which the non-digital still seems preferable or more successful? Or, if you’re still thinking about all these things too (and who isn’t these days?), what are some of the questions or problems you’re dealing with? What can we figure out together, as a community here?Thanks in advance for your thoughts, questions, and voices! Next fall project tomorrow,BenPS. You know what to do! Answers to any and all those questions, now and at any moment down the road, will be greatly appreciated and very valuable.9/5 Memory Day nominee: Amy Beach, the pianist and composer who is considered the first American woman to create large-scale artistic and symphonic music, and whose influence can still be felt in American music and culture.
September 4, 2012
September 4, 2012: Fall Forward, Part One
[I’m on my first sabbatical this fall, and will be working on a bunch of different projects. All of them could benefit from the input and ideas of my fellow American Studiers, and so this week I’ll be blogging about a handful of those projects and asking for your contributions (not financial, it’s a paid sabbatical). I’d love to hear your thoughts! And please feel free to share some of what you’re working on too, so I can return the favor.]
On my fall goals for this here American Studier site.The American Studier website that Graham Beckwith and I designed and created has been up and running for 8 months now, and there’s a lot about it that I’m already proud of for sure. It’s become a very good home for the daily blog posts and Memory Day calendarnominees, which have so far been and might always be the most consistently updated part of the site. But I’ve also, and even more importantly, really enjoyed the chance to include and highlight the voices and ideas of fellow American Studiers: in the Analytical Pieces section; in Forum posts; and in suggestions for Archives, Collections and other Resources, to name three places that have been constructed out of those other voices. My most central goal for the site is that it become generally communal and collaborative, and these represent definite starting points in that direction.I’d love to build each of those sections further this fall, so if you have: briefer American Studies questions, perspectives, interests, and thoughts, create a Forum thread; longer analytical takes that haven’t found a home (or that have but to which I can link), share ‘em (brailton@fitchburgstate.edu) for the Analytical Pieces section; suggestions for good American Studies Resources (online, archives and collections, in any of that page’s categories, etc.), send ‘em along; and so on. But I’m even more interested in seeing what we can do with the least developed (to date) part of the site, the Multimedia page. As you can see, I’ve created some preliminary categories and have posted a few examples for each; I’d love if every American Studier who visits this site could share one or another text (available, at least in part, online) that he or she believes we should all engage, making that page a genuine database of American Studies primary sources. But I’m also open to other ways to think about American Studies and to analyze our history, culture, identity, narratives, and so on—so if you have suggestions on how a page like that could be constructed, please send ‘em my way (again, brailton@fitchburgstate.edu) and I’ll make sure to credit you and your work.Those are some of my ideas and hopes. But the truth, to get all Rumsfeld-ian for a moment, is that I don’t know what I don’t know, and I need your help on that front even more fully. I’d say that’s particularly true when it comes to teachers, professors, and program directors in American Studies—what would benefit you all when it comes to a site like this? We could create a whole Pedagogy page, for example—what would you like to see there? What kinds of materials and resources could make your jobs easier, would benefit your students, could help you use a site like this in a course or the like? I’ll ask the same question of students, at every level—what could this site include and do to help you in your work? Ditto for researchers and scholars outside of any academic or educational setting—what would help you pursue your interests or work? No matter who or where you are, the simple fact is this: I would love to get a sense of those things, of what brings you to the site and of what could make it even more successful as a resource for you. That question, in any and every form, is what I hope will drive my—our—work on the site this fall.Next fall project tomorrow,BenPS. You know what to do! Answers to any and all those questions, now and at any moment down the road, will be greatly appreciated and very valuable.9/4 Memory Day nominees: A tie between two hugely talented, impressive, innovative, and inspiring African Americans, Lewis Latimer and Richard Wright.
On my fall goals for this here American Studier site.The American Studier website that Graham Beckwith and I designed and created has been up and running for 8 months now, and there’s a lot about it that I’m already proud of for sure. It’s become a very good home for the daily blog posts and Memory Day calendarnominees, which have so far been and might always be the most consistently updated part of the site. But I’ve also, and even more importantly, really enjoyed the chance to include and highlight the voices and ideas of fellow American Studiers: in the Analytical Pieces section; in Forum posts; and in suggestions for Archives, Collections and other Resources, to name three places that have been constructed out of those other voices. My most central goal for the site is that it become generally communal and collaborative, and these represent definite starting points in that direction.I’d love to build each of those sections further this fall, so if you have: briefer American Studies questions, perspectives, interests, and thoughts, create a Forum thread; longer analytical takes that haven’t found a home (or that have but to which I can link), share ‘em (brailton@fitchburgstate.edu) for the Analytical Pieces section; suggestions for good American Studies Resources (online, archives and collections, in any of that page’s categories, etc.), send ‘em along; and so on. But I’m even more interested in seeing what we can do with the least developed (to date) part of the site, the Multimedia page. As you can see, I’ve created some preliminary categories and have posted a few examples for each; I’d love if every American Studier who visits this site could share one or another text (available, at least in part, online) that he or she believes we should all engage, making that page a genuine database of American Studies primary sources. But I’m also open to other ways to think about American Studies and to analyze our history, culture, identity, narratives, and so on—so if you have suggestions on how a page like that could be constructed, please send ‘em my way (again, brailton@fitchburgstate.edu) and I’ll make sure to credit you and your work.Those are some of my ideas and hopes. But the truth, to get all Rumsfeld-ian for a moment, is that I don’t know what I don’t know, and I need your help on that front even more fully. I’d say that’s particularly true when it comes to teachers, professors, and program directors in American Studies—what would benefit you all when it comes to a site like this? We could create a whole Pedagogy page, for example—what would you like to see there? What kinds of materials and resources could make your jobs easier, would benefit your students, could help you use a site like this in a course or the like? I’ll ask the same question of students, at every level—what could this site include and do to help you in your work? Ditto for researchers and scholars outside of any academic or educational setting—what would help you pursue your interests or work? No matter who or where you are, the simple fact is this: I would love to get a sense of those things, of what brings you to the site and of what could make it even more successful as a resource for you. That question, in any and every form, is what I hope will drive my—our—work on the site this fall.Next fall project tomorrow,BenPS. You know what to do! Answers to any and all those questions, now and at any moment down the road, will be greatly appreciated and very valuable.9/4 Memory Day nominees: A tie between two hugely talented, impressive, innovative, and inspiring African Americans, Lewis Latimer and Richard Wright.
September 3, 2012
September 3, 2012: Labor Day Special
[In honor of Labor Day I’m taking the day off from blogging—but in the spirit of what this holiday should entail, a genuine effort to remember and engage with the complex and crucial histories of work and the labor movement in this country, here are a handful of past posts where I’ve tried to provide such engagement. Please add your own thoughts on labor, work, and America below!]
What It’s Like: On work, art, and empathyin Rebecca Harding Davis’s novella Life in the Iron-Mills (1861). A Human and Yet Holy Day: On Dorothy Day and the Catholic Worker movement.Workers Write: On the images of young female mill workers in two very different but interestingly complementary 19th century texts, Herman Melville’s “The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids” (1855) and The Lowell Offering (1840-1845).Anarchy in the USA: On the presence and absence of anarchists and revolutionaries in American history in general and social movements like labor in particular.Public Art: Diego Rivera’scontroversial, partially Marxist Rockefeller Center mural was one of the inspirations for this post on the complexities of public art.Next series starts tomorrow,BenPS. Any texts or histories related to work or the labor movement that you’d highlight? Other thoughts on these themes and questions?9/3 Memory Day nominees: A tie between two talented, unique, and pioneeringAmerican womenand writers, Sarah Orne Jewettand Marguerite Higgins.
What It’s Like: On work, art, and empathyin Rebecca Harding Davis’s novella Life in the Iron-Mills (1861). A Human and Yet Holy Day: On Dorothy Day and the Catholic Worker movement.Workers Write: On the images of young female mill workers in two very different but interestingly complementary 19th century texts, Herman Melville’s “The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids” (1855) and The Lowell Offering (1840-1845).Anarchy in the USA: On the presence and absence of anarchists and revolutionaries in American history in general and social movements like labor in particular.Public Art: Diego Rivera’scontroversial, partially Marxist Rockefeller Center mural was one of the inspirations for this post on the complexities of public art.Next series starts tomorrow,BenPS. Any texts or histories related to work or the labor movement that you’d highlight? Other thoughts on these themes and questions?9/3 Memory Day nominees: A tie between two talented, unique, and pioneeringAmerican womenand writers, Sarah Orne Jewettand Marguerite Higgins.
September 2, 2012
September 2, 2012: August 2012 Recap
[A recap of the month that was in American Studying.]
August 1: Sister Activism: The series on American siblings continues with the inspiring Grimké Sisters.August 2: Two Small Boys: On my next pair of American siblings, William and Henry James (and on my sons).August 3: Wholly American: My final post in the series, on Barack Obama’s half-siblings.August 4-5: Crowd-Sourcing American Siblings: The next crowd-sourced post, drawn from responses to the week’s series. (You can still add yours!)August 6: Two Talented, Troubling Americans: A series on Americans abroad begins with this repeat of a post on Tom Ripley and Jason Bourne.August 7: Quiet but Dangerous: The week’s next American abroad, Graham Greene’s title character, and American foreign policy.August 8: Not That Innocent: On the double-edged satire of Mark Twain’s Innocents Abroad.August 9: Cultural Turistas: Americans in Mexico in John Sayles’ Men with Guns.August 10: Tortured Travelers: My last post in the series, on the tortured young Americans abroad in Hostel and Taken.August 11: Rachel Collins’ Guest Post: Professor Rachel Collins writes about Undercover Boss and class-passing narratives in America.August 12: Crowd-Sourcing Americans Abroad: A crowd-sourced post on the week’s topics—share your thoughts, please!August 13: They Call Me Mr. Mom: A series on fatherhood in America begins with the Michael Keaton movie and the question of how and whether we’ve changed in the decades since.August 14: Southern Sons: On what fathers and sons help us see in the Southern Renaissance.August 15: Birthday Best Redux: In honor of my 35th birthday, 35 of my favorite posts from the last year on the blog.August 16: Fathers of Their Country: On the myths and narratives of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln as father figures.August 17: Missing Fathers: My last post in the series, on missing African American fathers in the Moynihan Report, two novels, and Boyz in the Hood.August 18-19: Crowd-Sourcing American Dads: The series ends with another crowd-sourced post—and another chance to add your take!August 20: Bad Memories, Part One: First in a series on how we remember dark American histories, on the Salem Witch Trials.August 21: Bad Memories, Part Two: Next in the series, on three different ways to remember Wounded Knee.August 22: Bad Memories, Part Three: On three innovative choices through which authors have tried to capture the Middle Passage.August 23: Bad Memories, Part Four: How works in three different genres help us remember the Japanese internment.August 24: Bad Memories, Part Five: My last post in the series, on how different figures and texts remember the My Lai Massacre and the Vietnam War.August 25-26: Crowd-Sourcing Bad Memories: The series ends with the fullest crowd-sourced post yet—and a few comments have been added to the week’s posts since, too. Check ‘em out and add your own!August 27: Books That Shaped American Studier, Childhood: A series on books that shaped my identity and perspective begins with a couple childhood favorites.August 28: Books That Shaped American Studier, Young Adult: The series continues with an author and work that got me out of my comfort zone.August 29: Books That Shaped American Studier, High School: On a book that helped greatly expand my sense of what literature could be and do.August 30: Books That Shaped American Studier, College: On one of the works that, eventually, inspired and contributed to a new career opportunity and path.August 31: Books That Shaped American Studier, Grad School: My last post in the series, on a work that reminds me of how excitingly far I still have to go.September 1: Crowd-Sourced Shaping Books: The series and month extend one more day, with some crowd-sourced thoughts on books that have shaped us.Next series begins tomorrow,BenPS. Thoughts on any of these topics? Things you’d like to see on the blog? Guest posts you’d love to contribute? Lemme know!9/2 Memory Day nominee: Romare Bearden, the African American painter, collage artist, cartoonist, set and costume designer, and more whose day job as a social worker both informed his unique and powerful works and makes his ability to produce them that much more impressive still.
August 1: Sister Activism: The series on American siblings continues with the inspiring Grimké Sisters.August 2: Two Small Boys: On my next pair of American siblings, William and Henry James (and on my sons).August 3: Wholly American: My final post in the series, on Barack Obama’s half-siblings.August 4-5: Crowd-Sourcing American Siblings: The next crowd-sourced post, drawn from responses to the week’s series. (You can still add yours!)August 6: Two Talented, Troubling Americans: A series on Americans abroad begins with this repeat of a post on Tom Ripley and Jason Bourne.August 7: Quiet but Dangerous: The week’s next American abroad, Graham Greene’s title character, and American foreign policy.August 8: Not That Innocent: On the double-edged satire of Mark Twain’s Innocents Abroad.August 9: Cultural Turistas: Americans in Mexico in John Sayles’ Men with Guns.August 10: Tortured Travelers: My last post in the series, on the tortured young Americans abroad in Hostel and Taken.August 11: Rachel Collins’ Guest Post: Professor Rachel Collins writes about Undercover Boss and class-passing narratives in America.August 12: Crowd-Sourcing Americans Abroad: A crowd-sourced post on the week’s topics—share your thoughts, please!August 13: They Call Me Mr. Mom: A series on fatherhood in America begins with the Michael Keaton movie and the question of how and whether we’ve changed in the decades since.August 14: Southern Sons: On what fathers and sons help us see in the Southern Renaissance.August 15: Birthday Best Redux: In honor of my 35th birthday, 35 of my favorite posts from the last year on the blog.August 16: Fathers of Their Country: On the myths and narratives of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln as father figures.August 17: Missing Fathers: My last post in the series, on missing African American fathers in the Moynihan Report, two novels, and Boyz in the Hood.August 18-19: Crowd-Sourcing American Dads: The series ends with another crowd-sourced post—and another chance to add your take!August 20: Bad Memories, Part One: First in a series on how we remember dark American histories, on the Salem Witch Trials.August 21: Bad Memories, Part Two: Next in the series, on three different ways to remember Wounded Knee.August 22: Bad Memories, Part Three: On three innovative choices through which authors have tried to capture the Middle Passage.August 23: Bad Memories, Part Four: How works in three different genres help us remember the Japanese internment.August 24: Bad Memories, Part Five: My last post in the series, on how different figures and texts remember the My Lai Massacre and the Vietnam War.August 25-26: Crowd-Sourcing Bad Memories: The series ends with the fullest crowd-sourced post yet—and a few comments have been added to the week’s posts since, too. Check ‘em out and add your own!August 27: Books That Shaped American Studier, Childhood: A series on books that shaped my identity and perspective begins with a couple childhood favorites.August 28: Books That Shaped American Studier, Young Adult: The series continues with an author and work that got me out of my comfort zone.August 29: Books That Shaped American Studier, High School: On a book that helped greatly expand my sense of what literature could be and do.August 30: Books That Shaped American Studier, College: On one of the works that, eventually, inspired and contributed to a new career opportunity and path.August 31: Books That Shaped American Studier, Grad School: My last post in the series, on a work that reminds me of how excitingly far I still have to go.September 1: Crowd-Sourced Shaping Books: The series and month extend one more day, with some crowd-sourced thoughts on books that have shaped us.Next series begins tomorrow,BenPS. Thoughts on any of these topics? Things you’d like to see on the blog? Guest posts you’d love to contribute? Lemme know!9/2 Memory Day nominee: Romare Bearden, the African American painter, collage artist, cartoonist, set and costume designer, and more whose day job as a social worker both informed his unique and powerful works and makes his ability to produce them that much more impressive still.
September 1, 2012
September 1, 2012: Crowd-Sourced Shaping Books
[The Library of Congress is currently hosting a pretty cool exhibition called
Books That Shaped America
. Many of its featured books are ones I (or Guest Posters) have written about in this space, and the topic as a whole is of course central to much of what I do here. But this week I bloged about a parallel but more intimate topic—a handful of the many books that have shaped this American Studier. This crowd-sourced post is drawn from the responses and stories shared by my fellow American Studiers—please add yours!]
In reponse to the childhood post, Rebecca D’Orsogna remembers “the nerd fantasy From The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler —they slept in the Met, did research for fun!” Irene Martyniuk highlights the Nancy Drew series, noting that “Her blue roadster represented such freedom. She had perfect manners even if she didn't have a mother and she had guts. Hannah Gruen could always be counted on and her lawyer father backed her up on everything. Beth, the typical female was always a bit scared and cried, and George, the way ahead of her time tomboy (maybe even closeted lesbian) was tough as nails. And then there was Ned. When I was teaching [the series], I found one critic who wrote something like: the moment you start wondering when Nancy will sleep with Ned, you're too old for Nancy Drew. So true. To me, Nancy was way ahead of her time. This is why she is such a role model for girls (Nancy Drew still outsells the Hardy Boys by a large margin). She is so many things that are both expected and unexpected. While, indeed, the mysteries themselves are formulaic, the fun is in the details. She has Ned wrapped around her finger and she does everything with such grace. And she has her own car.” And later in the week, Irene adds that “Emily L. by Marguerite Duras was also a game changer. I look on it as the female A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.”Responding to the young adulthood post, Ilene Railton notes that for her such “books would have been Robert Louis Stevenson’s adventures, which were certainly more for boys than girls, but I loved them nonetheless.” (As Ilene noted in nominating her Dad, Herman Fine, for February 4th’s Memory Day, he contributed to her love for Stevenson’s works.)Isabella Greene writes that “As a young adult I think Romeo and Juliet and The Diary of Anne Frank would have to be the two that had the most impact on me. R&J because of the whole new style of writing that seemed so hard to understand, but once you put the effort into it, the most amazing story emerged—just when you are starting to really ramp up your own fantasies about love and passion and giving yourself over to it completely (or as completely as 15 year olds know how). And Diary because, again, here was a young girl who had thoughts I could understand but was living a life so foreign to me, so scary and different, yet she was just a teenager, like me, having teenage ideas and feelings.”Speaking of Proal Heartwell, as I was in the high school post, he has a new book coming out, on his relationship to and investigations into a Welsh poet: called Goronwy and Me, it’ll be out this coming week from Wipf and Stock Publishers. Check it out!My Fitchburg State colleague Kate Wells responds, “Too many to list! Thinking about high school off the top of my head: Assigned school reading - Arthur Miller's The Crucible. Personal reading - Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. But college is where things started to truly blow my mind. Probably the book with the biggest ‘Holy Shit - THIS is how good books can be?’ moment was Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man.”In response to the grad school post, Monica Jackson notes that “ Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy made me realize one day in a graduate class at UMass Boston that I was actually on the same level as the other students in my class. (I always had this fear like everyone was somehow smarter than me because they spoke the language of the discourse community and I was still learning what a discourse community was. ) That memoir helped me relate to the author and explain how we all kind of related to the author. My explanation made others question and discuss, which I guess is really the point of graduate school (adding your own perspective to what’s already out there).”August recap tomorrow and next series next week,BenPS. Any shaping books you’d add?9/1 Memory Day nominee: James Gordon Bennett, Sr., the Scottish immigrant, journalist, and editor whose New York Herald pioneered virtually every significant form of newspaper journalism and who helped shape American politics and society in numerous ways.
In reponse to the childhood post, Rebecca D’Orsogna remembers “the nerd fantasy From The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler —they slept in the Met, did research for fun!” Irene Martyniuk highlights the Nancy Drew series, noting that “Her blue roadster represented such freedom. She had perfect manners even if she didn't have a mother and she had guts. Hannah Gruen could always be counted on and her lawyer father backed her up on everything. Beth, the typical female was always a bit scared and cried, and George, the way ahead of her time tomboy (maybe even closeted lesbian) was tough as nails. And then there was Ned. When I was teaching [the series], I found one critic who wrote something like: the moment you start wondering when Nancy will sleep with Ned, you're too old for Nancy Drew. So true. To me, Nancy was way ahead of her time. This is why she is such a role model for girls (Nancy Drew still outsells the Hardy Boys by a large margin). She is so many things that are both expected and unexpected. While, indeed, the mysteries themselves are formulaic, the fun is in the details. She has Ned wrapped around her finger and she does everything with such grace. And she has her own car.” And later in the week, Irene adds that “Emily L. by Marguerite Duras was also a game changer. I look on it as the female A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.”Responding to the young adulthood post, Ilene Railton notes that for her such “books would have been Robert Louis Stevenson’s adventures, which were certainly more for boys than girls, but I loved them nonetheless.” (As Ilene noted in nominating her Dad, Herman Fine, for February 4th’s Memory Day, he contributed to her love for Stevenson’s works.)Isabella Greene writes that “As a young adult I think Romeo and Juliet and The Diary of Anne Frank would have to be the two that had the most impact on me. R&J because of the whole new style of writing that seemed so hard to understand, but once you put the effort into it, the most amazing story emerged—just when you are starting to really ramp up your own fantasies about love and passion and giving yourself over to it completely (or as completely as 15 year olds know how). And Diary because, again, here was a young girl who had thoughts I could understand but was living a life so foreign to me, so scary and different, yet she was just a teenager, like me, having teenage ideas and feelings.”Speaking of Proal Heartwell, as I was in the high school post, he has a new book coming out, on his relationship to and investigations into a Welsh poet: called Goronwy and Me, it’ll be out this coming week from Wipf and Stock Publishers. Check it out!My Fitchburg State colleague Kate Wells responds, “Too many to list! Thinking about high school off the top of my head: Assigned school reading - Arthur Miller's The Crucible. Personal reading - Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. But college is where things started to truly blow my mind. Probably the book with the biggest ‘Holy Shit - THIS is how good books can be?’ moment was Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man.”In response to the grad school post, Monica Jackson notes that “ Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy made me realize one day in a graduate class at UMass Boston that I was actually on the same level as the other students in my class. (I always had this fear like everyone was somehow smarter than me because they spoke the language of the discourse community and I was still learning what a discourse community was. ) That memoir helped me relate to the author and explain how we all kind of related to the author. My explanation made others question and discuss, which I guess is really the point of graduate school (adding your own perspective to what’s already out there).”August recap tomorrow and next series next week,BenPS. Any shaping books you’d add?9/1 Memory Day nominee: James Gordon Bennett, Sr., the Scottish immigrant, journalist, and editor whose New York Herald pioneered virtually every significant form of newspaper journalism and who helped shape American politics and society in numerous ways.
Benjamin A. Railton's Blog
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