The Burning Bush
thoughts from a cunning linguist

May 07, 2004

Mr. Eighteenth Century

I think my faith in academics has been somewhat restored this week by my meeting with a professor who can best be called Mr Eighteenth Century. When I was last here, I took several classes from him. He has some prestigious books and a fabulous reputation and we have always got on really well. When I decided to work in the nineteenth century on queer fiction, one of my misgivings was that I had to forfeit working with him, even though much of the work I had produced for him in those courses involved the queerness of fiction in the early eighteenth century.

A month or so ago, at a time when I was feeling a little dismayed by my work and the slowness of its progress, I went to a talk that Mr Eighteenth Century gave. Reminded of what a generous academic he is and a lovely human being to boot,* I thought it couldn't hurt if I dropped him an e-mail to see if he would be willing to talk to me about my work. What with it being the end of term andeveryone being busy, that meeting happened on Wednesday. And what a productive meeting it was. We talked for over an hour about my project, and the meeting ended then only because he had another engagement. Otherwise, he told me he would have been willing to keep talking. Our conversation in fact included his suggestion of a possible revision to my project, or, perhaps better put, a parallel project. He thinks I can do a dissertation that examines queer fiction in the context of the rise of the novel more generally (at the beginning of the eighteenth century) and then shift to consider, at the end of the nineteenth century, the rise of the queer novel itself. In short, I got the distinct impression that he would like to continue working with me on my project and was proposing a way for me to do this, all the while gently reminding me that I could talk to him about my work at any time. He's going to put some articles he's written as part of his forthcoming book in my mailbox so that I can think about this some more. Since that meeting, I've had a lot to think about. On the one hand, it would be great to work with Mr Eighteenth Century. Everyone who has spoken to me since that meeting has commented on how happy and exicted I seem in the wake of this conversation. On the other hand, it does mean that I would have the difficult task of justifying why I'm working in two historical periods. It would also me convincing my current supervisor of the merits of this project. And anyone who knows me also know my supervisor is not always the easiest person to get along with (which, paradoxically, would also speak in favour of getting Mr Eighteenth Century on board.) The problem of reconciling the distinctness of historical periods in the context of the project is not small, but Mr Eighteenth Century said this to me (he always has a way of providing compliments in very encouraging terms): "I don't think any student could do it. But I think you could." Who wouldn't want to hear that?

My other worry is that expanding my project in this way might lengthen the time it takes for me to finish (and frankly, I've already been at this so long!). But I spoke with the Renaissance Eyeore about this precise dimension of the problem. She said that in her estimation, people fail to make progress on dissertations not because they have too much research to do, but because life gets in the way: they get married, have babies, have personal difficulties, etc. I also spoke with my old counsellor, the Maven of Clam Harbour, who, in my mind, holds the key to all psychologies, about the problem. She seemed to agree with the Renaissance Eyeore and remarked on how important it is to remove the psychic obstacles to finishing. She noticed that in the wake of my conversation with Mr Eighteenth Century, I was clearly buoyant about my work and its possibilities. She hoped that I could mine this feeling for all it's worth, even if I did chose not to expand the project in the ways he had suggested. So much seemed possible after that Wednesday conversation, whereas with my current supervisor, I often leave meetings scratching my head and wondering if I might have surrendered my brain to Customs ad the border when I came back here.

A reconfiguration of my project would not be designed to replace my current supervisor. I wouldn't really want that. But it would bring on board a more supportive committee member. Still, I would have to convince my current tasktmater of the merits of broadening the scope of my project, which would be no small enterprise only because he is difficult to convince of anything he hasn't already thought of himself. So this is where I am at the moment. Decisions, decisions.

* One of the first things I ever heard about Mr Eighteenth Century when I arrived here was about his commitment to graduate students. Some years before my time, graduate students' funding as TAs required them to teaching something like 2 courses each semester. This really cut into people's finishing time. When Mr Eighteenth Century's most famous book came out, he was courted by many schools to come and teach for them. In particular, Pinceton wanted him and he negotiated with them most seriously. He said he would stay here, though, on one condition. This condition did not require that he made oodles of money or anything like that. Rather, he insisted that as part of their funding packages, graduate students should have to teach less so that they could reduce their finishing time. There was absolutely nothing in this for him, personally, except the negligible fact that his students were out in the world. But really, there was no incentive for him to do this except the well-being of graduate students. How can you not love that?

Posted by Bush Whacker at May 7, 2004 01:15 PM
Comments

This is SUCH a significant development! Of course, you have to weigh all your options carefully. However, it seems to me that the status quo might be inertia, which of course you don't want...

Posted by: Maurice on May 7, 2004 08:42 PM

I don't think the status quo would be inertia per se. Even my current supervisor, in our last meeting, was anxious for us to set up a plan that would help me to finish sooner. But part of the problem I've been facing all year is my own tendency to go back very far in history to justify my claims--as far back as the Renaissance, in fact. Doing a project in the way Mr Eighteenth Century suggests would mean I could incorporate more of the reading I've been doing all year. In any case, I'll be able to include the writing I've been doing all year. This won't really change the chapter I'm currently working on significantly, even if it will slightly modify the way I frame it. But that would not be very difficult.

Posted by: Bush Whacker on May 7, 2004 09:26 PM
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