Thursday, December 18, 2008

Excuses, excuses: why I dread writing

It is telling that I am writing this blog at 2:30am... happy exam week, everyone (sarcastic inflection). We have talked a lot about blogs and the ways we present ourselves to other people, and I thought I would quickly give a personal angle on the subject.

Writing for me is a very labored, anxiety-producing process. Even in a blog post, I cannot type a sentence without backspacing, pausing, choosing a different word/phrase, and then repeating the process three words later. I have been known to take 3+ hours to write a simple email to a professor. Writing papers is a similarly lengthy process.

Even before I took this class, I was overly concerned with how I present myself in words. I could probably date this back to childhood or various educational experiences, but I am more concerned with where it puts me now, based on what I have learned in this class.

I think that my writing anxiety has a lot to do with managing identities and a desire to meet others' expectations. In today's world of constant motion, we are constantly trying to "make a good impression" on relatively new acquaintances, and, often, we have few friends with whom we can be secure in ourselves. So for me, writing is maintaining this terribly burdensome front that constantly threatens to disintegrate into stream-of-consciousness note-writing, chock-full of idiosyncratic abbreviations.

I find the relationship between thought and language very interesting. We spoke in class about whether we ever speak completely extemporaneously. To what extent do we arrange words in our minds before we utter them? Writing obviously takes more preparation, especially written work we will submit for grading. However, I notice that when I am in a AIM/Gmail Chat "conversation," the words spill out as in conversation. Why do my fingers stall so much as I type this blog post? Why do my thoughts scatter so? Certainly, one part of the problem is that right now I am consciously trying to follow grammatical rules that I might flout in conversation. I am concerned lest my words fail to be comprehensible to a wide audience, but in AIM conversations I know my friends will always understand my meaning or ask for clarification.

I always wonder whether good writers can think writing. Can anybody write grammatically correct prose at the same pace at which they speak? Or is writing pretty much a tough job for anybody? Winston Churchill said that writing a book was, for him, something rather like a long bout of illness. Yet you hear about literary figures who were able to dictate works from their deathbed. I mean, think of Mozart, who could think up sonatas during a coach ride and then transcribe them. If these geniuses could order their thoughts so precisely, why can't the rest of us? Or, if we can't all be geniuses, why is it unacceptable to write stream-of-consciousness? Why is there pressure to write a certain way?

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Speaking of different ways of writing (can this count as a second blog post? the first took me only about 50 minutes after all), I was thinking about the different requirements for anthropological writing as opposed to journalism as opposed to philosophical writing, mathematical writing, etc. It seems that in each case, the writing style stems from the values that are important to the discipline. For instance, first person writing became acceptable in anthropology when a wave of theoretical papers brought subjectivity and positionality to the forefront of the discipline. Philosophy and mathematics place great value on rigor and logic. They have developed precise vocabularies, and many writings in these disciplines follow convention structures (i.e., proof of a theorem: states the problem, defines the variables and concepts needed, applies concepts step by step, occasionally stopping to prove lemmas, sometimes has to prove the theorem for different cases, e.g. n<0, n>0 or real/imaginary).

As undergraduate students, we do not take classes that describe the nuances of writing an anthropological paper or a humanities thesis or any other specialized writing style. Our writing styles develop according to often contradictory remarks from professors of various disciplines who expect us to adjust our writing for every class we take.

I think it is a shame that we students receive so little formal writing guidance. In the American system, we churn out papers at a hectic pace, and there is rarely any chance to revise them. There is also an illusion of anonymity when the class size is above 20. Until my abroad year, then, I never really identified myself with my essays. In the British system, they seem to have no coursework that focuses specifically on writing, but since all the classes they take at the university level are in their major discipline (no philosophy, social science or fine arts requirement), they are always practicing the same writing styles. While advocates of the American system would claim that our breadth of education makes us more well-rounded scholars, I would argue that taking a whole slew of subjects in which the main goal is to pass an examination rather than expand one's knowledge, and for which the scholar receives very little personal feedback, is counterproductive. The American system (and this ritual period of torture known as Finals Week) is not conducive to my higher learning. I have become a nervous wreck, and I don't even have time to focus my energies on things I would like to learn.

To return from my rant, all disciplines' writing styles serve a purpose. As a student of a particular discipline, it is important that one learn to write according to the accepted conventions to ensure that one's work is intelligible and meets quality standards. While the American system of undergraduate education does NOT promote the development of specific writing skills, it is something that one can learn with repeated exposure to others' writing. I would be curious to find out whether writings in other languages follow the same disciplinary lines as in English. I know, for example, that German books on music are more more dense and theory-heavy than English books. To what extent is this driven by differences in the structure and vocabulary of the language, and to what extent does it reflect cultural preferences and culture-specific ideas in the discipline?

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Drumroll please...

Now introducing... my survey (for my project).

https://spreadsheets.google.com/embeddedform?key=pj30UEf_kaGLhOlwFHoSvFA

I would love it if y'all participated and/or passed on the link. I especially need more guys because apparently my number of girl friends to guy friends is about a 3:1 ratio. I have 12 responses so far, which is OK for the first hr and 15 minutes since I posted it. My goal is 150 by Tuesday (I know you guys with like 1000 friends laugh at that measly number. You say, "I could raise an army of 300 to storm NDH screaming 'I am Sparta!' tomorrow at Brunch!" Well, then, prove it. I challenge you to get 100 of your peeps to fill out my survey, if you would deign to brandish your social power for such a trivial request).

Monday, November 3, 2008

Found It!

After our discussion of blogs in class, I went looking for this article I remembered reading several months ago. It's a narrative of how one woman's blogging affected her relationships and identity (and it got a lot of flak from Times magazine readers). When I reread it now, it doesn't seem as applicable as I remembered. It kinda intersects with the topics we've been reading about, but then again it kinda doesn't... mostly doesn't, I guess.

What I found interesting was how her relationships in "real" life were affected by her blog over-sharing, and how comments on her blog triggered really extreme emotional responses. Should there be restriction on what people share in blogs?

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/25/magazine/25internet-t.html?scp=3&sq=&st=nyt

Tardy with my posting as always

My response to Baron’s final chapter:

I’m skeptical.

All these authors we’ve read point to increased “loneliness” and social isolation in the wake of our new technology, but I don’t quite buy it. It seems to me that throughout history, most generations view technological change/innovation as cause of society’s deterioration. There always seems to be a tendency to see the past as simpler and purer than the present. Television, the telephone, the telegraph, the printing press—these (and probably lots of other technologies that we’ve forgotten by now) were viewed at the time as “threats” to the established way of life and was met with resistance…. and some of that resistance seems to be related to control of communication and relationships.

I can’t help but think of the Tower of Babel “incident” in Genesis, which seems thematically appropriate. Imagine all of mankind congregated in a grand metropolis, where everybody speaks one language and communicates without barrier. They have grand aspirations: to build a tower to connect themselves to Heaven (opening new lines of communication and transport, if you will). Their plan backfires, and God makes them all speak different languages so that they are socially isolated and unable to communicate or conduct business with each other. A moral in the Bible story seems to be that too much communication and connectedness leads to disaster. Don’t try to play God; humans need to know their limits.

But the Tower of Babel tells me that our worries are not new: we crave connectedness and fear social isolation, and too much connectedness can cause isolation (um, with God’s intervention?… haha, never mind).

I think that our worries about social ramifications of cell phone and Internet usage are rather silly. Humans have been using language for thousands of years, and our use of language has constantly been evolving. A goal of language has always been to connect with people, and I don’t think that’s changed. The concerns of today are the same as they have been. So I don’t think that the nature of human communication or the nature of human relationships is “shifting.” If anything, I think the changes we see part of an “ebb and flow” that will adjust itself with the next wave of technology.

But, all right, I don’t think it’s completely pointless to study the social consequences of blogging and cell phone use. I think it’s incredibly interesting, both because it gives me a different perspective on today’s society, and because it is so much “bigger”—has much broader global reach—than previous new technologies. Never in human history have people on opposite sides of the globe had synchronous contact with each other, and now I can have video, audio, or merely text-based contact with friends in Singapore, England, Peru, etc. But, I argue that though the means of communication, the speed, and the geographic distance involved has changed, there is not much difference between human communication/social interaction in the 1500s and now. Back then they used sailing ships and rode horses, yeah? And back then most people only had close relationships with people they saw face-to-face on a regular basis. But the content of their messages were the same, and they definitely used abbreviations and sloppy spelling. Baron talks about how Shakespeare spelled his own name five ways. And remember how many words he just made up? I’m sure his detractors bewailed his mistreatment of the English language, even though we find in him a pillar of English literature and language.

Baron talks about how we are constantly “able to pull the strings on the ways we interact with other people” (220). Haven’t humans always used strategies to control interactions? What is the purpose of etiquette?

I am trying to say that the more things change the more they stay the same. I do see the points that Baron makes, and she makes them very well. But I think that “loneliness” and “isolation” are very subjective, very relative concepts. Didn’t people complain of loneliness often in the 19th-century European metropolises (think Germany, Paris, St. Petersburg… a lot of the literature has to do with people feeling an “outsider” in industrialized cities, it’s a trope of Romantic literature)?

Monday, October 13, 2008

Language and Politics in Italy

This weekend, I read a paper entitled Language and Politics in Italy: from Moro to Berlusconi by Osvaldo Croci. I was originally looking for articles about media ownership and how that affects bias, and then I thought of Berlusconi, Italy's billionaire Prime Minister whose share of media outlets accounts for a large chunk of the Italian market (nearly half, per Wikipedia). He is constantly criticized for using his media influence for political aims, and I wanted to study bias between reports in outlets he owns and those he doesn't. I did find an intriguing article about Italian newspaper readership and media ownership, but it was in German, so after the first 2 pages I gave up and searched for something else.

And I found this really interesting article, as I mentioned, and it talked about the change in the way Italian politicians are using language. It posits a connection between Italy's political climate (well, “electoral volatility”) and politicians' use of language over the past 50 years or so.

It begins with Moro and the birth of politichese, or morotese, the Italian political language characterized by contradiction and syntactic complexity, which obscure the speaker's meaning. The speaker blunts every affirmative statement by repeatedly qualifying it. Politichese also emphasizes abstruse vocabulary. Croci talks about the relationships created in a politichese speech. Politicians in the 1950s and 1960s worked in broad coalitions, parties brought together by political exigency but with very different aims. [Specifically, the Socialist party PSI entered into a coalition with the Republican and Social Democratic parties in what was termed aperture a sinistra – opening to the Left.]

The language Moro used reflected his precarious situation and was, the author argues, “necessary for the functioning of the Italian political regime of which it was an integral part.” “Morotese allowed him to reconcile the diffent factions within the party, by paying homage to their different views in one subordinate clause or another.” (352)

The style of language also reflected a distance between the electorate and the regime. The government aimed for “limited and controlled mass political participation.” (353) Politichese made the government seem inaccessible to the everyman, a difficult game to play. Croci says that “for this reason, politichese, much like Latin in church services, could be regarded as a sort of esoteric tool capable of performing miracles, since it cold transform what was presented as dangerous political foes one day into trustworthy parliamentary allies another day.” (353)

So this tool helped the Italian government remain stable for a number of years, but in the late 1970s, economic crisis brought dissatisfaction within the government and in the electorate, and the tricky cohesion that had existed quickly disintegrated.

So then this other style of political language arose in the new political environment, one characterized by “clarity, simplicity, and spontaneity.” It originated in the 1980s with the Lega (Lega Nord?) (354), and in the Berlusconi age, it has saturated Italian politics.

Berlusconi’s politics is a lot more like advertising—and a lot closer to the U.S. political style. I found it funny that the author (an Italian who teaches at a Canadian university) said that “if the transition to a genuine two-party system does take place and electoral volatility remains relatively high, then gentese will take root and the language of Italian politics might come to resemble more and more that of American politics, a language that most Italians regard as too simplistic to take very seriously.” (365)

Croci characterizes gentese as “a loss of ideological identity.” While Berlusconi denounces his opponents as illiberale, he rarely identifies what liberale would be. Similarly vague are the cose buone he promises to his followers. He analogizes politics to religion (he took the “chalice” when he joined politics, his promises use religion language “io vi dico”), sports (“taking the field”), famously advertised products (article mentions “Del Monte”, use of superlatives), and medicine (himself as a “cure”). His vague and abstract language energizes the public and encourages electorate participation, but it either fails to specify policies or it characterizes them euphemistically/inaccurately.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

When will I learn that less is more?

Information about the founding of Reuters, the principles they stand for, the role of the trustees, etc.
http://www.thomsonreuters.com/content/PDF/corporate/01692_A5_Founders_Share_Sin1.pdf

Also the original Wall Street Times interview with Zardari:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122307507392703831.html

More on Zardari/Kashmir from an Indian Perspective

Here's the Times of India... an editorial on the same theme I mentioned in the previous post (the really long post hehe)

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Editorial/Change_the_Game/articleshow/3567520.cms

The first paragraph establishes what relations between Pakistan and India have been -- strained at best, and the blame falls on Pakistan (it's not a real democracy, the military's too powerful, it views India as an existential threat). The underlying message is that India has been the principled one of the two. And the second paragraph starts "But," a very important signal word. The author applauds Zardari's statement against the Kashmir terrorists and hopes that this will "change the game."

"It’s high time, therefore, to put the past behind us and India-Pakistan relations on a new footing." He says Zardari has strong national support and his position is best for economic growth. Eh, I don't have time to go through a whole analysis.