posted by
revdorothyl at 09:04pm on 21/10/2004
In response to a comment made by the always thought-provoking
shadowkat in my LJ back in July, I found myself reflecting on the parts of me and my interests that don't fit into the neat little categories often favored by academia, the Church, and even [gasp!] fandoms.
"...I have the same experience with much of what I write and much of what I write about -- it falls in between the recognized 'domains' of academia and sheer fandom and pastoral care issues, and so it's rarely taken seriously in academic circles, but it can be a little too heavy for some fans, and it's too secular for many church people.
"When the guy who was chairing the SCBtVS session I was presenting at asked me for some introductory info about myself, I gave him the standard bio that appears in the Encyclopedia of Buffy Studies, but then concluded by saying that, if all else fails, I describe myself as a fan first, a scholar second, and a pastor third -- but NOT because any of those are more important to me than the others, necessarily. It's just that that's the order in which I tend to process things.
"First, I look for what moves and inspires and touches me or gives me something I need (searching for something that is worthy of my attention, as a fan). Second, I try to figure out WHY this or that moves me or feeds my spirit and HOW it does that (applying scholarly analytical methods). And finally, I try to USE what I've discovered in order to help other people cope with the pain and challenges of living in this world (my pastoral side coming through).
"Needless to say, none of this was mentioned in the introduction the guy actually gave me at the conference."
I was reminded of those reflections again this afternoon, when I attended a visiting faculty luncheon in order to (a) have lunch with other people for a change, (b) get a free lunch, and (c) hear guest lecturer Steven Greenberg (a gay Orthodox Jewish rabbi) talk about his book (Wrestling With God and Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition, 2004), his research into male-to-male love poetry written by well-known rabbis in 11th-century Spain, and his experience trying to bring all of himself into his religious work and vocation.
It occurred to me, while listening to this very knowledgeable, likable, and challenging speaker, that the only way for me to perhaps get beyond the stark, unreasoning terror that besets me every time I think about proceeding with my dissertation is to throw down my gauntlet in the introduction to my proposal (in the nicest possible way), and just lay it on the line: this is who I am, and I cannot even pretend (at this late stage in my life -- I'm all of 42 years old, after all, and 43 is coming up fast!) to fit into any kind of strict, no-nonsense, suck-all-the-fun-out-in-case-anyone-might-think-this-isn't-serious-and-really-hard-work-that-only-a-select-few-are-smart-enough-to-even-understand mold.
For the record, I hate treating my research like proprietary material or acting like I'm in competition (rather than community) with every other person who likes to think about and discuss the things I like to think about.
From now on, I resolve to say "screw it! I gotta do this my way, or not at all" and get something DONE, at last.
"...I have the same experience with much of what I write and much of what I write about -- it falls in between the recognized 'domains' of academia and sheer fandom and pastoral care issues, and so it's rarely taken seriously in academic circles, but it can be a little too heavy for some fans, and it's too secular for many church people.
"When the guy who was chairing the SCBtVS session I was presenting at asked me for some introductory info about myself, I gave him the standard bio that appears in the Encyclopedia of Buffy Studies, but then concluded by saying that, if all else fails, I describe myself as a fan first, a scholar second, and a pastor third -- but NOT because any of those are more important to me than the others, necessarily. It's just that that's the order in which I tend to process things.
"First, I look for what moves and inspires and touches me or gives me something I need (searching for something that is worthy of my attention, as a fan). Second, I try to figure out WHY this or that moves me or feeds my spirit and HOW it does that (applying scholarly analytical methods). And finally, I try to USE what I've discovered in order to help other people cope with the pain and challenges of living in this world (my pastoral side coming through).
"Needless to say, none of this was mentioned in the introduction the guy actually gave me at the conference."
I was reminded of those reflections again this afternoon, when I attended a visiting faculty luncheon in order to (a) have lunch with other people for a change, (b) get a free lunch, and (c) hear guest lecturer Steven Greenberg (a gay Orthodox Jewish rabbi) talk about his book (Wrestling With God and Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition, 2004), his research into male-to-male love poetry written by well-known rabbis in 11th-century Spain, and his experience trying to bring all of himself into his religious work and vocation.
It occurred to me, while listening to this very knowledgeable, likable, and challenging speaker, that the only way for me to perhaps get beyond the stark, unreasoning terror that besets me every time I think about proceeding with my dissertation is to throw down my gauntlet in the introduction to my proposal (in the nicest possible way), and just lay it on the line: this is who I am, and I cannot even pretend (at this late stage in my life -- I'm all of 42 years old, after all, and 43 is coming up fast!) to fit into any kind of strict, no-nonsense, suck-all-the-fun-out-in-case-anyone-might-think-this-isn't-serious-and-really-hard-work-that-only-a-select-few-are-smart-enough-to-even-understand mold.
For the record, I hate treating my research like proprietary material or acting like I'm in competition (rather than community) with every other person who likes to think about and discuss the things I like to think about.
From now on, I resolve to say "screw it! I gotta do this my way, or not at all" and get something DONE, at last.
that's the spirit
So if you want to do it, do it the way you want it done.
Here is my rule of thumb for producing secondary literature (i.e. anything that isn't primary literature) - that it's the same as primary literature. In this especially; that I want to produce the kind of thing I like to read.
I would only produce a dry-as-dust dissertation if that was the kind I liked to read. I bet it isn't the kind you like to read. Write one you'll enjoy. It's a hard enough slog anyway, and doing it that way will help (that is, you'll finish.)
Re: proprietary vs. community: I find it hard to write any secondary literature (I mean crit, articles, whatever, in my field), but insofar as I can think of any reason to do so at all (that isn't directly concerned with money and status, which don't seem to motivate me) it is, to participate in a conversation that interests me, in a particular genre whose forms I have to master in order to participate in the conversation. And after that it's a matter of "moving the ball an inch down the field", as my husband puts it - what is it about men and team sport metaphors? Nevertheless: scholarship is a team sport and a conversation, and it's only when I can think of it like that that I can persuade myself to get back on the horse and do some.
Re: that's the spirit
You said a mouthful! That's exactly the problem I've been having. Thanks for the pep-talk/encouragement/letting-me-know-it's-not-just-me-who-has-this-crazy-objection-to-academic-business-as-usual!