The Burning Bush
thoughts from a cunning linguist

May 23, 2004

Parking on a Hill

The Maven of Clam Harbour gave me a great piece of advice by way of telling a story a few weeks ago. We were talking about how hard I sometimes find it to get going on my work in the morning. She told me the story of a guy whose clutch didn't work in his car. He couldn't get the car started in first. So he had to make sure when he parked it at night, the car was on the crest of a hill. That way, he could put the car in neutral and slip into gear as the car rolled down the hill.

So I do the same thing with writing now. If I'm working on something that I know I can finish at night, I leave the last little bit to conclude in the morning. I usually know exactly what I want to do in that last little bit. And it means I don't have to start writing a new section or a new idea first thing in the morning. I can shift into gear just by rolling down the hill. It works like a charm. I've written 20 pages in the last three days! Yes, it's draftwork that will need some revision, but I'll take it.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 12:56 AM | Comments (3)

May 20, 2004

Google Search for WMD

Probably everyone in the web-world has seen this except me. But in case you haven't, give this a try:

1) Go to www.Google.com
2) Type in: weapons of mass destruction (DON'T hit
return)
3) Hit the "I'm feeling lucky" button, NOT the
"Googlesearch"
4) Read the "error message" carefully.
5) Click on the red underlined active links for more
commentary
Someone at Google has a sense of humour. And will
probably be fired soon..

Posted by Bush Whacker at 11:01 AM | Comments (2)

Jamesian Adventures

Little did I know that Henry James himself was going to be at the Henry James conference in Montreal. And then there was Henry's twin brother, Robert. These were not ghosts, but real James descendents--the great-grandsons of William James. One woman I met told me that Henry came up and introduced himself to her: "Hi, I'm Henry James." "Yeah, right," she replied, "and I'm Alice." Needless to say she was mortified later.

The James twins were just one of the fascinating things about the James conference. I've never been to such a stimulating conference before. Part of its success, I think lies in the fact that the papers were carefully selected. But another reason for the success lay in the format of the room in which the conference was held. All of us (between 25 and 30, I guess) were seated around a large table. It was kind of like the UN: each of us had our own little microphone. We could hear each other without microphones since the table wasn't that large. But this way we didn't have to yell. It also eliminated the hierarchical nature of conference responses by shifting the organization of the room. No one was really outside the circle (unless they chose to be) and everyone really had an equal opportunity to speak--graduate students and seasoned faculty alike. And the people were just really really smart. I guess you can have all the UN microphones in the world but it really comes down to this last thing: people gotta be smart.

Okay, now some shameless self-promotion: my paper was very well-received and I got two offers to publish it. So not only did I get to spend time in one of my favourite Canadian cities with smart fabulous people, I also got a much needed ego boost. Here's hoping the academic year ends on a high note and my chapter also gets completed before I leave New Jersey for the fine climes of Winnipeg and thereafter Sudbury at the end of next week.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 01:47 AM | Comments (0)

May 12, 2004

Off to the Distinct Society

Today I head off for fair Canadian climes--the city of Montreal in la belle province. Too bad it's only until Sunday. Montreal is one of the cities I love most in Canada, perhaps my favourite next to Halifax. I remember years ago when there was all the debate about the Meech Lake Accord in Canada over the "distinct society clause." I couldn't quite understand the resistance to the clause--or better, I was never convinced by said resistance-- since it was so obvious to me that Quebec is indeed so distinct. It's that distinctness that I love about the province and about Montreal in particular. It's the architecture, the language. the joie de vivre, the bagels--just a smattering of the mundane features of the city that bring it to life.

Yes, sure, I'm going for the conference--and the conference looks like it wil be much fun, having been organized by the unparalleled Queen of Catachresis. One good thing is that I'm finally putting that _Turn of the Screw_ paper to rest. But the conference, as all good conferences should be, is really an excuse to do other things: see people, see places, and, when one is not attached to a sexy girlfriend, do one's best to have conference sex. Since I am so attached, I guess I'll just have to content myself with bagels, architecture, and distinct society. Now who could complain about that?

Posted by Bush Whacker at 10:51 AM | Comments (0)

May 10, 2004

On Having a Quickie

Yesterday, when I met the MADwoman and her girlfriend for brunch, we celebrated MADwoman's birthday. A card was in order, of course. And I found such a good card, that I have to share it. Since she was celebrating her birthday in the USA, I thought a good American card would do the trick. Here's how the card read:

George Bush and Dick Cheney went out for lunch at a restaurant near the Capitol. Cheney decided he would have a "heart-smart" salad. Bush said to the waitress, "Can I have a quickie, please?"

The waitress was mortified and replied: "What about all your talk of morals and family values! I'm sorry I ever voted for you!" And she stormed off.

Cheney leaned over to Bush and said, "George, I think it's pronounced QUICHE."

Posted by Bush Whacker at 09:21 PM | Comments (1)

New Friends, Old Friends and Patty Griffin

Last night, I went to NYC to see Patty Griffin, a fabulous contemporary folk diva at the Town Hall. She did not disappoint and I came away with a shiny new CD. I found out she was coming to NYC because a friend of mine from Halifax, the MADwoman, was coming to town with her girlfriend to see Patty Griffin play. So I rustled up a couple of my friends from here and we headed into the show last night. While I was there, trying to hunt down the MADwoman and her girlfriend, I ran into another friend of mine who started in the graduate program here with me. Now, technically, this last person I ran into at the concert is my "oldest" friend of the lot. I met her in 1997. I also met the two friends who came to the concert with me for the first time in 1997. But somehow, I think of MADwoman as being an older friend, even though I have known her for only about two years. And, I think of the friends who came to the concert with me as "new" friends. They are the same people I went with to the March on Washington a few weeks ago. Maybe it's that people seem to be old friends when they've known you not for long periods of time, but when they come to know you more intimately.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 12:13 AM | Comments (0)

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 01:15 PM | Comments (2)

May 05, 2004

Hockey Night in the USA

I have spent the last 24 hours grading essays. But now they're all done. That meant I could watch hockey tonight. The Stanley Cup playoffs are on. Unfortunately, my team, The Montreal Canadiens, got put out. They got put out in the most shameful of fashions. They got swept. They lost a 4 out of 7 series in only 4 games. This is not supposed to happen to the Montreal Canadiens. Someone should have told these new players that losing in this way is simply not allowed. And as of tonight, there is only one Canadian team left: The Calgary Flames, since the Toronto Maple Leafs got eliminated tonight.

Hockey is rapidly moving south. There are more and more professional hockey clubs in the southern United States, often in place where there may never ever have been any ice! ESPN is trying to keep up, but like the teams themselves, they often have to import Canadians to run the show. (You can tell by the way the announcers say "about"--"abooot"--dead giveaway.)

Still, nothing beats the CBC's Hockey Night in Canada. I know, I know: I'm not supposed to like the impolitic Don Cherry who does Coach's Corner (thought not for long, if the rumours of his being tossed by the CBC are to be believed). But I can't help it: I like the guy. He actually has the guts to say things that lots of people are thinking, even if a fraction of the time, he goes overboard. I'd rather have that that some pasty-faced, clean-cut, nice carboard cutout of a Canadian doling out platitudes. All in all, I guess it just isn't quite the same to be watching hockey in the USA. But, even without Don Cherry, it's nice to settle in for an evening of puck watching. And it's even nicer not to have to grade any more essays for a while.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 12:44 AM | Comments (1)

May 02, 2004

"Some Stunned"

If my grandmother could talk to me right now, she would tell me I'm "some stunned." You see, I thought I had a summer sublet all lined up for my room in NJ. I'm heading back to Canada, to Sudbury, where I'll spend the summer writing and living in the lap of Dr. Fem. (I know, it's a tought life.) But stupid me, I didn't call the sublettor in time. I thought we had it all sewn up via e-mail. Then she contacted me today to tell me that she had found another place. Argh.

Oh, and can't you tell from my blog activity today that I should be writing that conference paper?

Posted by Bush Whacker at 10:27 PM | Comments (0)

Academic Prima Donnas

Yesterday afternoon, I went to Princeton to take in part of a one-day conference. It turned out that the conference had been organized by a fellow graduate student who submitted an essay to a collection of articles on sexuality that I co-edited. I thought it wuld be appropriate to go up and meet the guy. But when I introduced myself to this person, though, he seemed rather bashful and proceeded to tell me that he was not going to put that essay on his cv for a couple of years so as not to offend potentially conservative members of job-search committees. It's his right to construct his cv as he wishes and to do what he can to find a job. But his sense of audience was clearly out of whack. Moreover, he then seemed somehow to crow about the fact that he was on a first name basis with one of the more prominent scholars on sexuality, who also has an essay in our collection. I got the distinct sense that he could perform shame or pride in having been part of our collection depending on whom he was addressing. What a piece of work.

Posted by Bush Whacker at 03:21 PM | Comments (0)

Turning the Screws

These days I seem to be lost in Henry James land. I made the mistake of proposing to write a conference paper on _The Turn of the Screw_. It's a great story--about children and ghosts and a nutty governess. But I think every academic in the history of the world has written an essay about this story. There are literally hundreds of articles on the text. I think it's almost to the point where the critics just talk about other critics instead of talking about the story! The story is such fun, though and the conference is in Montreal. Yay! Back to Canada!

Posted by Bush Whacker at 02:12 PM | Comments (0)