Monday, November 30, 2009

Giving Thanks...And other Strange Tales

So, I'm here to wish all of you a much belated happy Thanksgiving. I know you've been waiting with baited breath to know about what I ate on that fateful day, not to mention whether or not I got my special martini! Well, you asked for it, you got it.

For the martini, you can go to Gargoyles. This place has a good bar, excellent cocktails, and good food. Bring some money. You're gonna need it.

Ah Thanksgiving! Well, I made crispy roasted duck with a black-currant and port wine gravy. It was divine, I might add. To wash it down, we drank a good Cotes du Rhone. Ducks have a preponderance of fat, most of which you can use as a base for other things (sauces, soups, stews) later on if you jar it in an airtight container. We also ate a sausage and apple stuffing (baked separately, to make it crisp and avoid salmonella) sweet potato casserole, and roasted vegetable salad with a truffle vinaigrette. All in all, a most excellent meal.

I have not updated for some time, partially because I am struggling to keep my head above the rising tide of paper that composes the end of the semester. Too much to write, too little time to do it. You can look forward to longer posts after the 16th, when all of this madness will be over.

In the meantime, may I humbly wish you all a Cheerful Holiday Season, whichever one you happen to be fond of celebrating. I happen to like Festivus, but that may just be me :) Whatever you do, eat something delicious. I'll also be posting a list of amazing books for your gift-giving ease, for that special, nerdy someone in your life. But all of that will have to wait for another day!

I bid you peace.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Last night I watched The Orphan. Hilarious. Why are little kids so damn creepy? The concept was good and the acting was good, but it was a little bit like they let monkeys write the last quarter of the script. Or maybe, they let some top-shit studio execs. write it. Either way, it was great until the end, where it got totally ridiculous. Go and see it for free, and make sure you have friends who know how to MST3k properly (yes, I just used that as a verb).

Well, for the want of other idle conversation, my thoughts turn to what I've eaten. I had a pretty lackluster sandwich last night from Angelina's in Somerville. However, my friends had some truffled goat cheese (that is, goat cheese laced with pieces of truffle) that blew my mind. Now, the thing I don't understand about Boston is the copious amounts of shitty pizza. I can get better pizza in my hometown of Greensboro, NC than I've been able to get here. If anyone can find me decent pizza in this city, please let me know. What seems to predominate are paltry examples of NY style pizza with none of the good, fresh ingredients or excellently prepared dough. Also, would it kill anyone to have a brick oven, or a wood even, or a clay oven? (all of which, by the way, we have in Greensboro).

I haven't drunk anything interesting recently, but I'm hoping to this evening. What I'd really like is a decent martini, the way that Bond takes it: Gordon's Dry Gin, Vodka, and Lillet Blanc. Yes, that would hit the spot after a long weekend of thesis proposal writing. If you have suggestions about the best place to get a decent martini, you let me know.

Well that's all for now, folks.


Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Hell

The single most exciting thing to happen to medieval/cultural studies has to be this:


Not only does this look like a fantastic game, but it also represents one of the most extensive appropriations of medieval literature I've ever seen. The combination of conventional RPG with the Divine Comedy seems to me to have highly interesting applications for other cultural productions. For more example, see Jeffrey Cohen's amazing blog. I also love The Tudors.

I also just got back from Puerto Rico and the American Society of Theatre Research (ASTR) Conference. I ate a lot in Puerto Rico, and of all the things I ate, the flank steak was probably the best. What would typically be a throwaway piece of meat, or just for stew, was tender and delicious. In addition, the double-fried plantains were fantastic. Now, plantains are easy to make. They should be sliced on a grade, fried in olive oil until brown, pulled out and crushed down, and then fried again. Salt liberally and serve with aioli.

Of course, Puerto Rico is also known for its rum. However, this is like no rum you have ever drunk before. Forget Bacardi. Really and seriously forget about it. I went on the Bacardi Rum Tour while I was in Puerto Rico, and I can tell you that it both glosses over the imperialistic history of the Bacardi family (as well as the fact that the sugarcane plantations were run by slaves) and is the most uninformative tour of anything I have ever been on. The tour guides are patronizing and the tourists are intolerable. Additionally, the clear disparity in wealth between the factory area and the the surrounding community made me believe that not much has changed in a little over 100 years. So much for them.

I hope to test out the Dante game as soon as it comes out. I wish it was coming out for Christmas. That's what I want.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Shakespeareans: Part 2

Last night on a bus, tired and going home. Buddhist monks in the front of the bus and white trash in the back. The contrast blew my mind a little.

This post won't be about Shakespeare. This post will be about the fact that I spent almost twenty hours in a small room with no windows in the past two days. Admittedly, that was partly my fault. I decided it was a good idea to move my books there and then work to the point that I started seeing things.

I worked on a presentation and a thesis proposal. The former got done, while the latter festers in a state of disrepair. That reminds me strongly of my life right now. Festering in a state of disrepair.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Shakespeareans: Part 1

This past weekend, I attended the Blackfriars Conference in Staunton, VA. For those of you who are unaware or not privy to the geeky little world of early-modern studies, Blackfriars is a replication (roughly) of an Elizabethan indoor playhouse. There is, of course, a massive organization which supports it known as the American Shakespeare Center. This conference does something that seems not to happen very often: it brings together scholars in Theatre and English under one roof.

This may not seem like an overwhelming accomplishment. It is, but it shouldn't be. You see, the primary problem is that English scholars tend to focus only on text (a broadening field, but still limited) and the people in my program tend to focus on performance and history. At best, strict theatre history involves searching through primary documents to produce rich descriptive accounts of productions, theatrical movements, or historical periods. English scholars, on the other hand (all of this is based on my experience) tend to take for granted the need to look at texts that were made for performance in terms of their only purpose: performance- therefore producing scintillating analyses that lack relevant application to the theatre.

Both ideas are too narrow. English studies have a wealth of critical theory to offer theatre studies, important because it grants relevance and self-awareness to historical and textual production and analysis. No more, in my view, should we or can we be content to construct historical narratives absent the framing theoretical devices that expose the frameworks and biases by which such narratives are constructed. By the same token, English certainly has every benefit to gain from the language of performance, inclusive of theories that deal with acting, space, and live interactions that help to shape texts whose purpose has been shaped by these factors.

Additionally, I am daunted and exhausted by the narrowness by which the concept of a 'text' can be defined in both fields. We need to wake up and realize that discourses are built in a multitude of media, that performance can constitute a multiplicity of acts, and that the ignorance or inability to accept such 'truths,' as they seem to me, simply serves to keep our programs and research aloof from relevance to the society that we seek to serve. Which relevance, I do believe, is part and parcel of a process of teaching and then releasing students into the social environment. The bottom line is that our fields have all become interdisciplinary in the wake of massive (and progressive) changes in critical theory, and that that interdisciplinary quality should be embraced before our institutions finally become unable to do the one thing that they purport to do: provide the tools necessary to analyse discourses with an open and critical mind.

Critical theory, performance, and texts of all sorts, when harnessed together, represent the most powerful conjunction of critical elements and practices conceivable. To keep these disciplines artificially separated, to keep them closed off to change, will only serve to bring on the constantly impending disaster predicted by those in our fields with no ability see past their own noses. Only if we continue to share an impulse towards sharing and integrating scholarship between fields can we maintain the relevance and health of the humanities.

Finally, and this is exceedingly biased, I believe that this is also the only way to effectively combat hegemony and hegemonic impulses, to bring minoritized and oppressed groups to the table, and to effect systemic and institutional change where it is most needed. Often, our critical eyes can and should often be turned towards the endemic racism, sexism, and homophobia in our own institutions. However, if we are unwilling to expand our disciplines or definitions, how could we ever combat entrenched sexist practices, for example? If we are unwilling to engage with the stuff that constructs normative impulses, how can we begin to deconstruct or (at the very fundamental level) even become conscious of them?

Now, I am not pretending that there is not a great deal of poor scholarship on each end of the spectrum, or that this view somehow eliminates the need for the evidentiary supports on which we base our work. Absolutely not. Scholarship, in its best form, should go on. This is not an invitation to 'looseness' in the scholarly framework, but an expansion of the tools and resources that we have to draw on. Not an anarchy of definitions, but an ever more exacting and precise mode of defining. After all, the more we expand ourselves and tools, the more complex the discussion must become.


Friday, October 16, 2009

Ah, Pumpkins...

'Tis the time for Pumpkin beer, my friends. However, not all of the pumpkin beers are made equal, so let me run down what I've tried so far. Dogfish Head makes the good stuff. This 7% juggernaut has the perfect blend of pumpkin flavor and spice. To expose my bias, I think that if a beer is called a 'pumpkin' beer, it should taste like something besides pumpkin pie spices. I like for there to be some pumpkin in there as well. As I type this, I am drinking the Shipyard Brewing Co.' s pumpkin beer, and it has a little too much spice to it. However, paired with apples or cheese, it might balance out the sweetness. I'll keep you posted as I try more of the pumpkin ales.

I just recently tried a few others. The Jiahu beer from Dogfish Head is really amazing, with a Belgian style depth but without the ponderous heaviness of the white ales I've had. Also, this is a 9000 year old recipe, so its like drinking a piece of history. Speaking of history, what about a glass of Pangaea? The shtick here is that it was brewed with an ingredient from every continent. I sure can't taste all of them, but I do love the crystallized ginger on the finish.

So, I suppose I might have been leaning heavily on Dogfish Head recently. I don't know exactly how that happened, but I assure you that it wasn't intentional.

Also recent has been my first experiences with a liquor known as grappe. Be careful with this stuff, as it will put hair on your chest. However, while being highly potent it is also delicious. The one I had was redolent of cedar and dark berries.

I know it has been a while since my last post, but I have been working on a presentation and paper related to Baroque machine plays. 'What are these?' You might ask. Well, look it up on the series of tubes that you read my Blog on or come to my presentation. Do look it up though. Fascinating stuff.

"Adieu, adieu, remember me..."

Friday, October 9, 2009

The Trials and Travails of Graduate School...

Part of graduate school involves moments where the line between sanity and insanity blurs in fascinating ways. Amidst papers, presentations, and classes (which, oddly, seem to get in the way of all the other things) it is easy to lose perspective. Which is partially why this blog exists at all. I can't talk enough about the stuff that interests me to everyone who is working with me, so I apparently had to have a forum to do it more.

There's a lot of talk about balance in the graduate school experience, about being able to live a life outside of the department (where I am, in fact, typing this right now!). There are even support groups for new scholars in a lot of academic disciplines, each of which has been eager to try to provide that much needed perspective that will help to keep you sane.

This is all for nothing. As far as I can tell, finding a balance between work (or talking about work, or thinking about work, or thinking about talking about work, or...) and everything else is a fiction they tell you when you enter a program because they don't want you to rip off your clothes and run away screaming back to whatever shitty job you left to get here.

No. This is an endurance test, a test of the passion you have for a subject that you have willingly offered your entire life to. This is a test of your desire to immerse yourself in a discipline that may or may not like what you have to offer, with all of the vulnerability and suffering that that entails. In a way (and I'm sure that there are some students out there silently nodding their heads when I say this) our disciplines are like lovers. We often relate to them as such: when we turn in papers and they come back covered in red ink we take it as a rejection of our skills and ourselves, but when we manage to articulate a new and (we hope) brilliant idea we experience it as the most visceral kind of elation and joy. Our relationship to the discipline often can be more immediate than our relation to our 'real' lovers. Surely, it demands almost as much (if not more) attention.

Our desire, in a sense, creates a new being.

Now, I'm not in any way saying that this is healthy. But there is some nobility in it. The highs are very high, and the lows can be very low, and there isn't always an assurance that any of it matters any more than that shitty job you (or I) left to get here. However, the reason we do it is self-evident, so self-evident in fact, that I'm not going to write it down. You can fill in the blank yourself, can't you?

In any case, I find it all thrilling, and I wouldn't give it up for the world. Even if I have to leave in a straight jacket.