Present and Future News

rootsAfter a beautiful July at the Dallas Institute, I have resumed preparations for the ALSCW Conference in Dallas at the end of October. I will be leading a seminar on Shakespeare in the K-12 classroom; in addition, I will present a paper on cantillation (of two verses in Megillat Esther) in David Mikics’s seminar on slow reading. If you are interested in attending this conference, go ahead and register! It should be intellectually and artistically invigorating.

Speaking of the ALSCW (Association of Literary Scholars, Critics, and Writers), I was just elected to a second three-year term on the council. I am honored and excited to continue this work.

Stay tuned for more (big) news; I don’t want to tell it before it’s confirmed, so I’m holding back for now. In a week or two I should be able to say something.

“That boatman am I”

floydsrowFor the past four days, at the ALSCW Conference, I have been in my element: presenting poems and papers, listening to others, leading seminars, participating in other seminars, and conversing seriously and jovially about literature. The talks, poems, fiction, music (including Floyds Row, pictured here), and keynote speech woke me beyond the usual waking and dreams.

It wasn’t just a matter of intellectual thrill. Here was a chance to go back to past readings and memories, learn about works I had not yet read, take in cadences and inflections, and participate thoroughly. I heard people read their own and others’ work; speak on Homer, Euripides, Pindar, Ovid, Augustine, Chaucer, Dante, Rilke, Woolf, James, Milton, Orwell, Hardy, Housman, Shakespeare, Stickney (from whom the title of this blog post comes), and others; and point out details, meanings, structures, and gestures. I read two poems (“Afternoon Visit” and “The Nose’s Arrest“); presented on Gogol’s “The Nose,” my translation of Venclova’s “Pestel Street,” and Cortázar’s “Final del juego“; and led a seminar that burgeoned into discussion (during the session and afterward).


Now back to the book and the books. I start the tenth chapter this week.

Literature Conference in DC!

cuaOnce upon a time, I would not have ended such a heading with an exclamation point. I was weary and wary of literature conferences that focused on newfangled theories and sidestepped the literature. Even at the best conferences, this happened a lot, or so it seemed to me.

I remember listening to someone apply Mikhail Bakhtin’s “chronotope” to Anton Chekhov’s work. There didn’t seem to be much Chekhov there, or even much Bakhtin.  The speaker’s voice would rise in pitch on the last syllable of “khronotop” (Russian). After a while,  all I could hear was “khronoTOP, khronoTOP, khronoTOP.” I held myself together, but as soon as the session was over, I rushed out of the hall and burst out laughing. (I admire Bakhtin but am sometimes giggly about dogmatic Bakhtinians. I have a Bakhtinian parody published on Pindeldyboz.)

Anyway, this conference is about literature. It’s the Twentieth Annual Conference of the Association of Literary Scholars, Critics, and Writers (ALSCW), to be held from October 27-30 at the Catholic University of America. Panel and seminar topics include Milton, Dante and Augustine, humor, poetry translation, Irish poetry, American literature across borders, and David Bromwich’s much-anticipated keynote address, “The Literature of Knowledge and the Literature of Power.” There will be a poetry reading by Rosanna Warren and Brad Leithauser, a musical performance, and much more.

I will be presenting two papers, reading a poem or two, and leading a seminar (in which I will present a third paper). One paper is on Nikolai Gogol’s “The Nose,” another on my translation of Tomas Venclova’s poem “Pestel Street,” and a third on Julio Cortázar’s story “End of the Game.” The seminar, “‘You Must Change Your Life’: The Gesture of Opening in Literature,” features papers by E. Thomas Finan (on Woolf), Ann Marie Klein (on the Iliad), William Waters (on Rilke), and myself.

This should be a great four days. Registration is still open; for details, see the ALSCW website.

A New Blog Name

greydayOn this beautiful grey-green morning (some of my favorite weather), as I was out walking, it occurred to me that I could rename the blog. The previous title  (Diana Senechal: On Education and Other Things) no longer fit. Then it came to me: Take Away the Takeaway, the title of my forthcoming book. This suits the spirit of the blog and allows flexibility.

The book is taking shape, by the way; I have written drafts of seven of the eleven chapters. I am moving along swiftly so that I can revise slowly later.

I am also taking a course in advanced cantillation; I love the subject, the practice, and the course. This is my second major commitment this year.

I have some additional time-bound projects: at the end of October, I will present two papers at the ALSCW Conference (one on Gogol’s “The Nose,” one on my translation of Tomas Venclova’s “Pestel Street“) and will lead a seminar as well. Also, I am writing many college recommendations for my former students.

So here it is: Take Away the Takeaway.

To Gather Around a Book

red book

(Gathered around C. G. Jung’s Red Book: Dr. Larry Allums, Dr. Joan Arbery, and I. Thanks to the Dallas Institute for the photo.)

This summer, for the sixth time, I had the joy and honor of serving on the faculty of the Sue Rose Summer Institute for Teachers at the Dallas Institute of Humanities and Culture. (It was my fifth summer as full faculty member; in my initial, “junior faculty” year in 2011, I mainly observed but also gave some morning remarks and an afternoon lecture.) What makes this Summer Institute stand out, or one of many things, is its focus on literature itself. We alternate between epic (in even-numbered years) and tragedy and comedy (in odd-numbered years); in epic summers, we read the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Aeneid, the Divine Comedy, Moby-Dick, Mwindo, Monkey, parts of Popol Vuh and Paradise Lost, and numerous poems, essays, speeches, and other works–all of this in three weeks. Jennifer Dubin’s article “Promethean Summer” (American Educator, Spring 2014) describes the program vividly.

Although the reading is intense and the course very short, we have room to discuss the works in depth–precisely because of the focus. I cherish the substance of the course (the works themselves), the practice of coming together over literature, and the beautiful concentration. I hope to continue on the faculty for many more years.

Now I have turned my attention to my book, as well as college recommendations and two papers for the ALSCW Conference (Association of Literary Scholars, Critics, and Writers). The book’s working title (which may change) is Take Away the Takeaway (the title of the talk I gave in April at TEDx Upper West Side, the video of which should be available sometime this month).

I know that I will miss my school this year, but it is a privilege to be able to focus on writing (and one or two other big things, including a course I will take this year in advanced cantillation). Focus and stretches of time are some of the greater goods of life; to some degree they can be found in any given moment, but they also depend on the structures of our days. For years I have been building this structure; now I get to live in it for a while. I hope to do it justice.

Pride and Precipice

A splendid collection of essays has just come out in the fifth issue of FORUM: A Publication of the ALSCW. Edited by Rosanna Warren and Lee Oser, the issue bears the title “What Is Education? A Response to the Council on Foreign Relations Report, ‘U.S. Education Reform and National Security'” and includes contributions by David Bromwich, James Engell, Rachel Hadas, Virgil Nemoianu, Helaine L. Smith, Elizabeth D. Samet, myself, and others. I am honored to be part of this, not only because of the  topic, but also because of the caliber of the other essays. They lift the overall conversation.

The CFR report, the work of a task force headed by Joel Klein and Condoleeza Rice, maintains that we must reform education in order to address a national security crisis. They propose that schools, curriculum, and assessments be restructured for the sake of national security. Such a proposal would be laughable if the task force leaders didn’t have so much clout. That’s why a response is needed: this is no joke. (See also Diane Ravitch’s response in the New York Review of Books.)

The FORUM contributors do not constitute a collective. Each one speaks independently. There are common concerns without a position statement or platform. I have dreamed of this: to speak alone and with others. I have longed for a public forum of this kind.

I have also dreamed of being pushed a bit–of being challenged to refine my thoughts. This collection of essays does that as well.

But I also recognize that there’s no need to be afraid of a modest contribution. To say something as well as one can at a given moment, about something that matters–there’s glory for you, as Humpty Dumpty would say.

Much needs to be said. Whatever the needs of national security, we should try to educate beyond these needs. As soon as education subordinates itself to a limited  goal or demand,  it is lost.