Date: Sun, 28 Jun 1998 23:43:43 -0700 (PDT) From: Alexander Glage <glage-AT-yahoo.com> Subject: Re: RE: academia, fear, custard I really like (Un)leesh's distinction between coercion and inspiration--though I really don't think of myself as advocating "institutional coercion". If that's what got communicated, then I apologize--I probably rambled on too much for my own good. Let me try again, this time with a metaphor: If I want to build something, say, a sculpture, then I go out and start amassing the materials I need to start putting stuff together: clay, stone, wood, random objects, fetishes, nails, glue, photographs, paint, blood, etc. These are the things I feel I can work with, the things that strike my fancy, the things my friends recommend to me, that I've seen used before, or that I think can be used even though they've *never* been used before. I work on my sculpture, show it to friends and peers and, if I know any, professionals, I get feedback from them (which I am largely free to disregard if I so choose), I work on it some more, maybe even enter it into a contest (if that sort of thing appeals to me). Part of the joy of this sort of creation is precisely its freedom, the unregulated play of it, not to mention the excitement of what we might call its "personal expression" (despite the fact that such phrases are largely out of fashion). In a sense, this is the kind of creation that we carry out every day, in all different aspects of our lives, our behavior, our thought. Such creation typically falls under what we might call our "private" lives, though to be sure we would be unable to draw any definite line which might separate it from our more "public" activities. Anyway, this form of creation is a kind of activity, a kind of thinking about ourselves, which all but the most impoverished souls engage in constantly, and which we must champion and pursue with all the vigor at our command. Yet there would be another sort of creation, one which is more about what I have been calling "compulsion" or "necessity", and which I have found equally valuable. This time, instead of searching for whatever materials strike my fancy, I am *given*, say, 50 objects; my "assignment" is to build something using some of those 50 objects. Of course, I can use whatever materials I like beyond those pieces, but I must nevertheless use at least some of the 50 I was given (there might even be a quota assigned to me, say, I must use at least 25 of the pieces given to me). Now we're dealing with a *different kind of creation*, a different kind of thought. Now there is an added dimension of necessity, of thoughts being "forced" in unexpected ways, of a limit which fractures possibilities into so many broken pieces which must then be considered afresh, placed into new and to us unnatural contexts. I can no longer just look away; I am obliged to think about *this*, to use all of my faculties in getting *these* things to fit together. In a sense, such a situation harnesses my thought to just what it finds most unbecoming or undesirable--namely, constriction itself--and precisely so as to shock it into new forms, new possibilities, new life. The fortuitous thought is what we hope shall emerge out of this paradoxical "harnessing"--it is what shall strike us, if only after some suffering or labor, without our having "recognized" it. We will only "sense" it, and then we will have begun to think. I feel that taking a class should produce, at least in the most ideal instance, a balanced synthesis of these two forms of creation. I personally have found that most of my classes have consisted in just such syntheses. Of course, as I said in my previous post, I must concede that I can think of no reason to *require* the latter kind of creation for anyone who really sees it to be pointless or insulting or not worth their time. Still, lest anyone think my own experience at the university has been only or even primarily about the latter kind of creation, and so as to dispel any misunderstandings about how I am thinking of "compulsion," I would like to take a moment to list some of the work I did in graduate school, so as to get clear on what kind of "discipline" I have in mind. Here's a few indicative examples of my grad-school experience (in an English department): I took a class on modernism and the representation of homosexuality--no exam, and for a final paper I wrote a long essay on 20th century French philosophy, basically saying nothing of the novels we read in class and pretty much ignoring the queer theory we read, but which did take Foucault as a central figure. I also took a class (I mentioned this before) on 18th century literary history--no exam, I wrote a paper on 20th century American literary criticism and the role literary history might play in the future. Another class I took was a seminar, the reading list of which was compiled entirely by the students--no exam, and for a final paper I briefly discussed two of the books we read (I suggested them, after all), and focused the rest of my study on Artaud (whom we did not read). For another class, which happened to be *required* for the particular program I was in, I wrote a paper on Emmanuel Levinas, an author neither read nor discussed in class. No exam. For my M.A. oral exam I was allowed basically to pick any 15 books I wanted (so long as I could explain their thematic unity, as well as their importance), and of the texts I chose there were only two or three that had a whole lot to do with literature. Needless to say, I did fine in this department; I found that my professors were typically good people who cared about their students, who wanted them to do well, and who would usually not be willing to discourage anyone's creativity. I found that all the classes I took aided me enormously in my intellectual development. I left there with good recommendations, as well as with the naively optimistic attitude about the university that you see before you now. Now, I've gone to the trouble of listing these experiences only so that no one gets the wrong idea about what kind of regulations I have in mind when I speak of the value of "compulsion" in learning. I am most definitely NOT into "institutionalized coercion"--if, that is, by that term you mean anything more specific than the most broad and flexible requirements (basically: no paper, no credit). But I also want to make clear that I must not be understood as saying that everything is fine everywhere, or that all analytic philosophy departments really *are* open to continental thought, or that all political science departments really *are* into exposing the lies of the U.S. government, etc. I am well aware of the urgent need to broaden the horizons of many departments, fields, schools, etc. I just think such broadening is best done from *within* those departments, by the sort of professors (and students) that I have had the good fortune to study with. The question, as with almost everything political, seems almost to become one of "revolution" vs. "reform". I guess I am still sort of on the "reform" side. But maybe I'm still blinded by my own privilege? Tell me. What say you, Unleesh? _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free -AT-yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
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