tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15231380.post3795660271897085494..comments2023-10-19T07:54:32.841-04:00Comments on Quod She: "Intense but delightful" (on the conversational modes of academics and philosophies for the new year)Dr. Viragohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03960384082670286328noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15231380.post-89991205082978549682008-01-04T12:36:00.000-05:002008-01-04T12:36:00.000-05:00Oh, Sweet Baby Jesus...Hee hee. Yes, I'm entirely...<I>Oh, Sweet Baby Jesus...</I><BR/><BR/>Hee hee. Yes, I'm entirely aware of the intense ironies of this post1 (Some were even intentional.) And I know it was meant positively. But it just got me t' thinkin'...cuz that's what I do. :)Dr. Viragohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03960384082670286328noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15231380.post-63375870792750687082008-01-04T12:25:00.000-05:002008-01-04T12:25:00.000-05:00Oh, Sweet Baby Jesus... she meant it in a positive...Oh, Sweet Baby Jesus... she meant it in a positive way. Just look at the length of your paragraphs and the, er, intensity with which you examined being described as "intense." I don't think it was in reference to being an academic. Most people are content to make banal comments in inane conversations about the weather. You are, and have always been, a person with endless curiosity and a need to delve deep, whether it's discussing the humor of "30 Rock" or hanged v. hung. "Delightful" is often an adjective that, when used alone to describe someone, conjures the image of a social butterfly flitting lightly from person to person. That's why "intense but delightful" is a very nice thing to say about someone... you delve deep, but in a way that doesn't alienate people. Now go paint your nails or something and stop being so.... intense. With love, PP (btw, love the site redesign, which I just saw today...)The Pastry Piratehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05503433773635525726noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15231380.post-28601846774907181362008-01-02T08:54:00.000-05:002008-01-02T08:54:00.000-05:00Hey, you triggered me to draft my post about profe...Hey, you triggered me to draft my post about professors on TV--which reminded me that there is a PhD-holding character, Dr. Reid on Criminal Minds, who absolutely has Trivia Tourette's. His better-socialized co-workers often shush him.<BR/><BR/>Also, my "analyzing too much" runs over into commercials and pop songs. Fun.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15231380.post-70353386512273975732008-01-02T08:32:00.000-05:002008-01-02T08:32:00.000-05:00food for thought---thanks.food for thought---thanks.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15231380.post-78128070567693941022008-01-01T16:30:00.000-05:002008-01-01T16:30:00.000-05:00I think you're absolutely right, Flavia. I think ...I think you're absolutely right, Flavia. I think too many people -- students and former students -- don't see a distinction between "reading" literature and "studying" literature. They think the latter should be as transparent as the former (even though the former isn't as transparent as they think). God, even my graduate students use the phrase "reading too much into it" as a general critique of literary scholarship, which drives me absolutely batty! It makes me want to ask them why they're in graduate school in literature, as opposed to doing something else and continuing to read on their own -- with or without an "intense" level of analysis.<BR/><BR/>Likewise, many people who may see a place for "intense" thinking nevertheless think we should "turn off" our professorial way of seeing and thinking when we're out and about in the world. We shouldn't "analyze too much" but instead should learn just to have fun. Or something.<BR/><BR/>What I'd like to help my students (if not the whole world!) to understand is that to "analyze too much" *is* fun. Intensity *is* delightful! And that what we do in literary studies is only one particular form of intensity, one that gets more intense the further you pursue it.Dr. Viragohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03960384082670286328noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15231380.post-19243004433671594802008-01-01T15:53:00.000-05:002008-01-01T15:53:00.000-05:00Oh, I think that I have Trivia Tourette's, too! (A...Oh, I think that I have Trivia Tourette's, too! (Although at least half of my non-academic friends have this disease, too, and sometimes in greater measures, which is probably why we're friends.)<BR/><BR/>And I think your diagnosis of the ways this is perceived by non-academics, and why, is spot-on. It reminds me of a very smart critique I read a year or two ago (on a blog? I don't remember) about the annual let's-make-fun-of-MLA articles in national newspapers: the general public would never think of making fun of the obscure topics being dealt with at the panels of the annual anesthesiologists' convention (or whatever), because the public understands those to be highly specialized topics fully understandable only by professionals. But the general public <I>does</I> have an expectation, especially if they're generally literate and like books, that what WE do should be immediately relevant and understandable to <I>them</I>. <BR/><BR/>The general public I think sees and respects us as professionals insofar as it understands us to have read a lot of books and know a lot about a particular time period--more than they have. But the general public does <I>not</I> always (usually?) understand that our being professionals <I>also</I> involves specific practices, theories, and habits of thought that they haven't been trained in (and that aren't always immediately apparent to them as such).<BR/><BR/>(Oh, and so good to see you at MLA! Happy 2008 to you and Bullock.)Flaviahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17832765671541392835noreply@blogger.com