Gillian Polack's Blog, page 216
December 23, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-23T12:01:00
If books I've ordered actually arrive (hah!), then I think I am nearly finished with secondary sources for this doctorate. I have maybe 20 books left to read and a couple to re-check and only about 1200 pages of stuff on the computer and I just relocated an article that was unaccountably missing (it was unaccountably missing because of a typo that had me searching for entirely the wrong thing, so really, it was accountably missing).
There's a solid satisfaction in having a pile of books and a computer file and knowing that's all I need to read for one chapter, and in having two decreasing piles (they would be decreased more except for the strange absence of two books I ordered last month) and of having reached the stage (finally!) where articles and books on the subject cease to appear at a moment's notice.
Eighteen months ago I longed for proliferation of articles and books - but that was the right place for then - now I need to diminish everything and turn it into good thinking and better writing. That's the source of satisfaction: being able to see that I can complete this particularly messy task within a respectable time frame.
What's less solid is wrestling my ideas into submission. I want to say everything all at once. This is why I'm a better novelist than scholar: I can tell stories more easily than I can explain my ideas.
Subduing my thoughts is going to be the hard bit of the next few weeks. My thoughts want to blossom everywhere - they don't want to be staked and tied and to grow in a manner that others can understand. The handy thing about this being a second doctorate is that I know I'm just being recalcitrant. My next task is to sit down and look at each and every sentence and decide if it adds to what that chapter is saying. After that I read the paragraphs and then I read the chapter as a whole. Then I re-read the whole thing and streamline it and add more examples where more examples demand to be added. If it doesn't make sense in terms of the subject matter and in terms of the whole, then it may be erudite, but it's garbage. One day I'll write a novel with a character that produces nothing but beautifully erudite garbage. Today is not that day, and I am never a character in any of my novels (though I can pretend to be, when occasion demands).
This is work. I know. I'm aware that I also said I would take today off. I'm taking tonight off, though, and tomorrow afternoon, and all on Monday afternoon and evening and most of Tuesday. If I can finish the first stages of this rewrite by those times out, then afterwards I can take a step back and polish off some of the stray secondary material and see if there are ways of making it work even better. Then I can (after real time out) do another rewrite in all those stages. And then I can hand it over to my supervisor for dissection.
Novels are easier for me.
I had two paragraphs that explained why, eloquently, but LJ lost them and I need a break from my computer so I'm not going to rewrite them! Imagine this post as lacking an ending, a summation, a rounding out. And imagine me as lacking coffee. Both are quite true!
There's a solid satisfaction in having a pile of books and a computer file and knowing that's all I need to read for one chapter, and in having two decreasing piles (they would be decreased more except for the strange absence of two books I ordered last month) and of having reached the stage (finally!) where articles and books on the subject cease to appear at a moment's notice.
Eighteen months ago I longed for proliferation of articles and books - but that was the right place for then - now I need to diminish everything and turn it into good thinking and better writing. That's the source of satisfaction: being able to see that I can complete this particularly messy task within a respectable time frame.
What's less solid is wrestling my ideas into submission. I want to say everything all at once. This is why I'm a better novelist than scholar: I can tell stories more easily than I can explain my ideas.
Subduing my thoughts is going to be the hard bit of the next few weeks. My thoughts want to blossom everywhere - they don't want to be staked and tied and to grow in a manner that others can understand. The handy thing about this being a second doctorate is that I know I'm just being recalcitrant. My next task is to sit down and look at each and every sentence and decide if it adds to what that chapter is saying. After that I read the paragraphs and then I read the chapter as a whole. Then I re-read the whole thing and streamline it and add more examples where more examples demand to be added. If it doesn't make sense in terms of the subject matter and in terms of the whole, then it may be erudite, but it's garbage. One day I'll write a novel with a character that produces nothing but beautifully erudite garbage. Today is not that day, and I am never a character in any of my novels (though I can pretend to be, when occasion demands).
This is work. I know. I'm aware that I also said I would take today off. I'm taking tonight off, though, and tomorrow afternoon, and all on Monday afternoon and evening and most of Tuesday. If I can finish the first stages of this rewrite by those times out, then afterwards I can take a step back and polish off some of the stray secondary material and see if there are ways of making it work even better. Then I can (after real time out) do another rewrite in all those stages. And then I can hand it over to my supervisor for dissection.
Novels are easier for me.
I had two paragraphs that explained why, eloquently, but LJ lost them and I need a break from my computer so I'm not going to rewrite them! Imagine this post as lacking an ending, a summation, a rounding out. And imagine me as lacking coffee. Both are quite true!
December 22, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-23T09:05:00
I have ants. it's only a few right now, but it's the time of year and the sort of summer when they're likely to multiply rapidly.
The question is - is it time to bring out the mirror yet?
The question is - is it time to bring out the mirror yet?
gillpolack @ 2011-12-22T12:10:00
I'm out this afternoon and have the nicest friends visiting this evening. In fact, this whole season is going to be about spending quality time with great folks.
I have to work as well, but not today, I think, and probably not tomorrow. It's time I took a weekend! (A two day weekend is a bit uncalled for, I know... also, taking time off when other people do is unexpected.)
By 9 January I have to have redrafted 4 chapters of dissertation and the whole novel. I've done 1/3 of the changes to the novel and I've done a close reading and notes for the four chapters. The rest can wait until Saturday. Yay for time out!
I have to work as well, but not today, I think, and probably not tomorrow. It's time I took a weekend! (A two day weekend is a bit uncalled for, I know... also, taking time off when other people do is unexpected.)
By 9 January I have to have redrafted 4 chapters of dissertation and the whole novel. I've done 1/3 of the changes to the novel and I've done a close reading and notes for the four chapters. The rest can wait until Saturday. Yay for time out!
December 21, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-22T07:25:00
Today started around 1 am with a husband and wife involved in a discussion that leaked loudly through my bedroom window. Then it continued a half hour ago with two men talking right outside my bedroom window. I want to introduce these four people to each other so that they can share their conviviality somewhere else.
Breakfast has now been demolished (a mango) and housework has been begun* and I'm considering that I have the full longest day in which to acomplish things. Or I could try for another hour's sleep.
*My place only looks like a small tornado has hit it. And a chair is visible.
Breakfast has now been demolished (a mango) and housework has been begun* and I'm considering that I have the full longest day in which to acomplish things. Or I could try for another hour's sleep.
*My place only looks like a small tornado has hit it. And a chair is visible.
gillpolack @ 2011-12-21T18:07:00
I went to the library and the post office. I came home with four giant mangoes, a perfectly ripe sugar pineapple, some cherries, nearly 2 kg of artichoke hearts, some tomatoes and a choko. I still haven't decided what to do with the choko. The cherries, alas, have already been done unto.
I had other news, but contemplating the fate of a perfectly ripe sugar pineapple has driven it out of my head. I think I might be missing market visits with friends.
I had other news, but contemplating the fate of a perfectly ripe sugar pineapple has driven it out of my head. I think I might be missing market visits with friends.
gillpolack @ 2011-12-21T14:16:00
This morning has all been about revising fiction.
In a few minutes, I'll brave the post office crowds to get the first batch of Chanukah stuff sent. I shall reward myself by dropping into the library.
I'm missing a few addresses for postcards and one book. I'll have to do another trip to the post office in the new year. Just the thought of that makes me want coffee.
Coffee first, crowds second.
In a few minutes, I'll brave the post office crowds to get the first batch of Chanukah stuff sent. I shall reward myself by dropping into the library.
I'm missing a few addresses for postcards and one book. I'll have to do another trip to the post office in the new year. Just the thought of that makes me want coffee.
Coffee first, crowds second.
December 20, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-20T19:50:00
The drawing for Chanukah presents is all done and I'm about to put the very sparkly hats away. If I haven't emailed you or told you the outcome on your comment on the blog, please let me know. It got very tangled at one stage!
Chanukah 2011
Once upon a time there was war in the Middle East. This is a rare and unusual occurrence. As a result of that rare and unusual occurrence, Israel (1) was overrun by rather pagan invaders. This led to some interesting history being written, down the track. It also led to the establishment of a festival which can be technically classified under "They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat." Unlike other festivals in this category (2), the story is not about death. Also, the invasion was more about freedom of religion than about mass murder and eliminating Jews from the face of the earth. This qualifies Chanukah as a cheerful festival.
Permeating the Jewish tradition about the reign of Antiochus in Judea are many exciting tales. They include histories of patience in adversity and of blood and gore. There are stories of alcoholism, preceded by patience in adversity and followed by blood and gore, and of weaving cloaks from those odd bits of wool that get caught on brambles when sheep walk too close (3).
Of all these stories, the most famous one is how the Maccabees (4) won back the Temple. They won back a lot more than the Temple, but the Temple was the important bit. The straw that broke the camel's back were the pigs, apparently. Pigs in the Temple. And straw. And camels.
No, only pigs. Sorry.
Still, the problem with the Temple was that it was being used for worship of a rather interesting Hellenistic pantheon. The pigs were the symptom, not the problem.
The Maccabees were a strong Jewish family. They could have been role models for Che Guevara, because their preferred type of politics was charismatic, and their preferred form of warfare, guerrilla. They had not, however, read Karl Marx. They also didn't speak Spanish. They did, however, practise all those heinous acts forbidden under Antiochus' enlightened pagan rule, namely Torah study, keeping Sabbath holy, keeping a kosher kitchen, circumcision... They didn't like the obligatory nature of Antiochus' intriguing variety of paganism. Other rebellious souls who kept kosher suffered martyrdom for their efforts. But then, those other rebellious souls weren't charismatic guerrilla leaders.
After long and bloody trials and much hiding in the wilderness (5), the Maccabee family and their followers won back Judea and most importantly the Temple (6).
Let me remind you that Antiochus had insisted that all Jews worship his own, not-at-all-Jewish, deities (7). This worship was enforced everywhere, including at that holiest of holies, the Temple. It was used for worship that looked decidedly unsavoury to the pure-minded revolutionaries. (Revolutionaries are always pure-minded.) When the Temple was won back, they wept because it was defiled (putative pigs!).
The solution for the defiled Temple was simple. Firstly came a big spring clean. After that, re-sanctification.
Re-sanctification was somewhat of a problem. Not that re-sanctification in itself was a difficult procedure, but there was no holy oil. The Temple had, after all, been defiled, and that went for most of its contents, too. After much searching, extra virgin olive oil (8) was found, but only a small amount. In fact, there was only enough holy oil for one day, instead of the required eight. But one little lamp of oil lasted eight days, and the ancient Judeans declared that "A Great Miracle Happened Here (8a)" and threw a party to celebrate. Jews ever since then have spent 8 days of the year enjoying the miracle.
The Hebrew acronym describing the event became the basis of gambling using a spinning top, probably around the eighteenth century. It is pure co-incidence that the annual Jewish gambling and gift-giving stint is between Melbourne Cup Day and Christmas.
(1) Or Judea, or whatever that stretch of territory was called around 165 BCE
(2) Other key categories for Jewish festivals include "Let's be miserable together" and "Something important happened on this day, but it was thousands of years ago and we will spend the whole day trying to remember, and half the night too" and "Three thousand years ago or so we probably planted/harvested/rioted around now" and "We haven't overeaten for a few days, time for a festival" and "Let's do no housework."
(3) To visualise this, think of scraggy sheep. Dismiss all merinos from your minds. A modern merino would be caught up by a tangle of brambles and might die of thirst or be turned into lamb chops. Ancient Jewish stories do not encourage trapping sheep in tangles of brambles. With ancient scraggy sheep, the wool comes off in tatters anyway. It really can be collected from bushes in the wilderness. If you live in the Canberra region and want to meet the descendent of such a sheep, visit Mountain Creek Farm. They also have a Wessex saddleback pig called Beyonce.
(4) You are advised to turn your spellcheck off at this point. The MacAfees were not major players in ancient Jewish history.
(5) Scraggy sheep!
(6) The hiding in the wilderness is where the cloaks came in. Public nakedness is seldom encouraged in Judaism. No, this footnote is not in the right place. The scraggy sheep got in the way.
(7) I know, I told you a few lines ago. This system of footnotes makes a few lines seem like a long time. Someone should study it to see if footnotes really slow time down or if they just confuse people.
(8) For Christians, extra virgin olive oil was probably the standard in ancient days. This means that Mary cooked with…no, I'm not going there.
(8a)* These days most of us say "A great miracle happened there." If you live in Israel you get to celebrate locally, though, and use the words of the ancients. That reminds me, one day I must try making the alcohol of the ancients. My family liqueurs went down very well last year and that was only the alcohol-of-the-near-moderns. Imagine how good it can get with older drinks!
*This footnote is 8a because otherwise it would be 9 and Chanukah only has 8 nights. My other option was to create 36 footnotes or 64 footnotes, or… let's stick with 8a.
Permeating the Jewish tradition about the reign of Antiochus in Judea are many exciting tales. They include histories of patience in adversity and of blood and gore. There are stories of alcoholism, preceded by patience in adversity and followed by blood and gore, and of weaving cloaks from those odd bits of wool that get caught on brambles when sheep walk too close (3).
Of all these stories, the most famous one is how the Maccabees (4) won back the Temple. They won back a lot more than the Temple, but the Temple was the important bit. The straw that broke the camel's back were the pigs, apparently. Pigs in the Temple. And straw. And camels.
No, only pigs. Sorry.
Still, the problem with the Temple was that it was being used for worship of a rather interesting Hellenistic pantheon. The pigs were the symptom, not the problem.
The Maccabees were a strong Jewish family. They could have been role models for Che Guevara, because their preferred type of politics was charismatic, and their preferred form of warfare, guerrilla. They had not, however, read Karl Marx. They also didn't speak Spanish. They did, however, practise all those heinous acts forbidden under Antiochus' enlightened pagan rule, namely Torah study, keeping Sabbath holy, keeping a kosher kitchen, circumcision... They didn't like the obligatory nature of Antiochus' intriguing variety of paganism. Other rebellious souls who kept kosher suffered martyrdom for their efforts. But then, those other rebellious souls weren't charismatic guerrilla leaders.
After long and bloody trials and much hiding in the wilderness (5), the Maccabee family and their followers won back Judea and most importantly the Temple (6).
Let me remind you that Antiochus had insisted that all Jews worship his own, not-at-all-Jewish, deities (7). This worship was enforced everywhere, including at that holiest of holies, the Temple. It was used for worship that looked decidedly unsavoury to the pure-minded revolutionaries. (Revolutionaries are always pure-minded.) When the Temple was won back, they wept because it was defiled (putative pigs!).
The solution for the defiled Temple was simple. Firstly came a big spring clean. After that, re-sanctification.
Re-sanctification was somewhat of a problem. Not that re-sanctification in itself was a difficult procedure, but there was no holy oil. The Temple had, after all, been defiled, and that went for most of its contents, too. After much searching, extra virgin olive oil (8) was found, but only a small amount. In fact, there was only enough holy oil for one day, instead of the required eight. But one little lamp of oil lasted eight days, and the ancient Judeans declared that "A Great Miracle Happened Here (8a)" and threw a party to celebrate. Jews ever since then have spent 8 days of the year enjoying the miracle.
The Hebrew acronym describing the event became the basis of gambling using a spinning top, probably around the eighteenth century. It is pure co-incidence that the annual Jewish gambling and gift-giving stint is between Melbourne Cup Day and Christmas.
(1) Or Judea, or whatever that stretch of territory was called around 165 BCE
(2) Other key categories for Jewish festivals include "Let's be miserable together" and "Something important happened on this day, but it was thousands of years ago and we will spend the whole day trying to remember, and half the night too" and "Three thousand years ago or so we probably planted/harvested/rioted around now" and "We haven't overeaten for a few days, time for a festival" and "Let's do no housework."
(3) To visualise this, think of scraggy sheep. Dismiss all merinos from your minds. A modern merino would be caught up by a tangle of brambles and might die of thirst or be turned into lamb chops. Ancient Jewish stories do not encourage trapping sheep in tangles of brambles. With ancient scraggy sheep, the wool comes off in tatters anyway. It really can be collected from bushes in the wilderness. If you live in the Canberra region and want to meet the descendent of such a sheep, visit Mountain Creek Farm. They also have a Wessex saddleback pig called Beyonce.
(4) You are advised to turn your spellcheck off at this point. The MacAfees were not major players in ancient Jewish history.
(5) Scraggy sheep!
(6) The hiding in the wilderness is where the cloaks came in. Public nakedness is seldom encouraged in Judaism. No, this footnote is not in the right place. The scraggy sheep got in the way.
(7) I know, I told you a few lines ago. This system of footnotes makes a few lines seem like a long time. Someone should study it to see if footnotes really slow time down or if they just confuse people.
(8) For Christians, extra virgin olive oil was probably the standard in ancient days. This means that Mary cooked with…no, I'm not going there.
(8a)* These days most of us say "A great miracle happened there." If you live in Israel you get to celebrate locally, though, and use the words of the ancients. That reminds me, one day I must try making the alcohol of the ancients. My family liqueurs went down very well last year and that was only the alcohol-of-the-near-moderns. Imagine how good it can get with older drinks!
*This footnote is 8a because otherwise it would be 9 and Chanukah only has 8 nights. My other option was to create 36 footnotes or 64 footnotes, or… let's stick with 8a.
December 19, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-20T08:02:00
I'm doing the sorting hat stuff around dinnertime. It's breakfast time. If anyone happens to sneak in extra wishes for gifts (or even their first wishes for gifts) on my original blogpost ( http://gillpolack.livejournal.com/893338.html ) it will make me very happy.
I'll post the sorting hat decisions below each of your requests, to keep things simple.
If you've wanted to read Life through Cellophane or get a recipe from the cookbook or you've always wanted to own a tatty copy of Sartor Resartus and you think "But she doesn't know me well enough" then just say 'hi' and explain this in the comments section.
I'll post the sorting hat decisions below each of your requests, to keep things simple.
If you've wanted to read Life through Cellophane or get a recipe from the cookbook or you've always wanted to own a tatty copy of Sartor Resartus and you think "But she doesn't know me well enough" then just say 'hi' and explain this in the comments section.
December 18, 2011
Chanukah - last chance to demand pressies
It's just over a day before I light my first candle. That means it's just under a day before I cut up names for the very sparkly sorting hats. If you've been cautious about coming forth and declaring your undying love for George Gissing or your need to read Life through Cellophane, be cautious no more! The list of presents is here and only one of them is oversubscribed... http://gillpolack.livejournal.com/893338.html
