Sunday, December 31, 2017


So, I already do this productivity reports in August (i.e., the anniversary of me getting an academic blog), which may be found both here and here, but I decided that a "Calendar Year Productivity Report" would not only be fun but fun -- you know, give myself a sense of achievement that occurs twice as frequently as Christmas, despite the overlap in materials.

Of course, I'll only include things written within this calendar year, although some of it has been fortunate enough to be published rather quickly.

So, without further ado, here's the report:

Everything from January-July 2017
  • "Unraveling The Hobbit's Strange Publication History: A Look at Possible Worlds, Modality, and Accessibility Relations" -- now published in Fastitocalon, 6000 words
  • "J.R.R. Tolkien and 1954 Nomination of E.M. Forster for the Nobel Prize" -- now published by Mythlore, 9000 words
  • Book review of Edmund Gordon's The Invention of Angela Carter, now published in Mythlore, 1500 words
  • Book review of Jad Smith's Alfred Bester, now published in Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts, 1500 words 
  • One conference paper on Glen Cook, 1500 words 

 Everything from August-December 2017
  • Essay on Gender/Sexed Violence in Stephen R. Donaldson -- article under review, 14000 words
  • "PRYZQXGL: Or, How to Do Things with Magics Words" -- forthcoming article in The Baum Bugle, 5000 words
  • "Donaldson's Amnion and the Dangers of a Posthuman Future" -- encyclopedia article, forthcoming, 1000 words
  • "Review of Okja by Bong Joon-ho" -- film review forthcoming in Science Fiction Film and Television, 1500 words
Grand total? Four articles written (3 of which will be peer-reviewed), three book reviews, one encyclopedia entry, one conference paper. All of which have been wedged in between my dissertation defense and revisions, moving cross-country to Arizona, and teaching 4 classes for the first time in the fall.

Total publishable words written: 41,000.

Saturday, December 16, 2017

Books that Didn't Age Well: L. Frank Baum's Life & Adventures of Santa Claus

The title says it all. I've been reading a lot of Baum books lately in prep for my short article, and I was recommended The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus (1902) as a good introduction to many of Baum's fairy creatures. Well, the book's a bit dull and much too cloyingly sweet, but just imagine my horror when I discovered that Baum, with his customary flair for whimsy, decided to just up and insert genocide, racism, and a rationalization  for environmental destruction!


Yep, straight up genocide -- although, of course, it wasn't called that. Claus gets kidnapped by a race of evil creatures called Angwas. He escapes, but Claus's friend Ak, the Master Huntsman, visits the Angwas and tells them to stop. His reasoning? "We immortals, no less than mortals like Claus, are superior to you. Do as I say!" The king of the Angwas, naturally enough, refuses, so all the immortals decide to wipe out this race of "evil" creatures from the face of the earth. And it only takes a single short chapter!

Of course, this book appeared well before the Holocaust and even the Armenian genocide of 1919, so clearly we can cut Baum some slack here. But still -- that's why it called "not aging well."

Oh yes, the racism, this time against Native Americans. It's nothing that unusual for the time period, mind you, but it's still enough to make me wince.  For example, Santa Claus decides to bring toys to "three little children who lived beneath of rude tent of skins," and their "parents were ignorant people who neglected them sadly" (167). Baum never once mentions the word "Indians," but the pictures make the connection pretty clear. Anyway, Baum gives these kids a Christmas tree, which makes them immensely happy for the first time, cuz there's absolutely nothing offensive about that.

This last one is actually pretty innocent compared to the first two (ignoring, if you will, the whole end-of-the-inhabitable-world thing). Men start chopping down all the forests in the world, which you think would irritate the Master Woodman, but never fear: "I have but guarded the forests until men needed them for their use" (194).

A major premise of modern environmentalists, of course, is that the idea that nature exists for human use is immensely destructive.

None of these, mind you, are called "evil." You know what Baum does call "one [last] evil following in the path of civilization" (196)? Stoves. You heard me right. Apparently, the then-modern prevalence of stoves was causing people to build fewer chimneys, which was making Claus's job of entering households much more difficult. Luckily, Claus has some helper fairies. Glad we got that cleared up!

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Stephen R. Donaldson and Tolkien

Well, just finished my monster 12,000 article (14k with footnotes) on sexed/gender violence in Stephen R. Donaldson. Sent it off yesterday afternoon. I have high hopes for it, but it was exhausting to write -- not only 2 1/2 months of labor, but a very depressing subject matter. My final draft has the phrases "sexed violence," "rape," and "assault" appear 168 times, and my secondary reading wasn't no picnic either, as you might imagine.

But anyway, I started reading the 3rd book of The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, and I got to think thinking about SRD and Tolkien himself. Perhaps I should preface this by saying -- and it kills me to do so, since I love SRD -- that The Last Chronicles are really, really, really bad. The first two books are perhaps mediocre; not awful, mind you, but not as fresh or captivating as either of the first two Covenant trilogies. Yet book 3, Against All Things Ending, is really a sucker punch to the soul. I tried reading it about three or four years ago, but couldn't make it past page 100. Very literally, almost nothing happens in those first 100 pages -- yet virtually every sentence is filled with heartache, anguish, and despair. Much like Patricia A. McKillip, Donaldson has always had a tendency toward melodrama and operatic extremity, but somehow in this book he has simply lost all restraint. Here's a sample paragraph from Pg 194:
Until that moment, Covenant had seemed preoccupied with pain, too hurt to react. Yet he heard her appeal. Meeting her gaze, he gave her a look of anguish, stricken and faltering, as if she had asked him to betray himself -- or her. His hair resembled a silver conflagration, as if his thoughts burned with shame.
That last bolded sentence is literally the dumbest thing I've ever read. (What does conflagration hair look like, really?). But the previous sentences are eye-roll-worthy as well. Every once in a while wouldn't have been bad, perhaps especially in a poignant moment in the narrative, but Donaldson goes on like that, paragraph after paragraph, page after page. Show, not tell!

So this combination of re-reading late Donaldson, plus my long essay, has also made me reflect on his relationship to Tolkien. For this, I'll make up a few categories and see how things go:

Sub-creation -- Donaldson or Tolkien?
Tolkien -- and it's not even close. As much as I love The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, Donaldson clearly is borrowing all of Tolkien's plot structure. That's not a flaw, mind you, so long as you do it well, which Donaldson. But he doesn't really come into his own until The Second Chronicles. . . . alas, though, The Final Chronicles, in terms of subcreation, has squeezed the lemon dry. There just isn't very much interesting about his world by the third go-around.

Prose -- Donaldson or Tolkien?
Tie. Actually, I hate discussions about prose, since there isn't really a rigorous way to discuss it -- although writers clearly revise their sentences according to some theory of better/worse, critics most often mention prose only to disparage a work they dislike for other reasons. Both Donaldson and Tolkien have both been unfairly maligned for those prose styles; really, though, their styles are just fine.

Intellectual Daringness-- Donaldson or Tolkien?
Donaldson -- but this is tricky. Tolkien was a hell of a bright guy, and he certainly knew pre-modern  century English literature way better than Donaldson does. But he's not nearly as self-consciously literary as SRD. This may possible be a case of bias, since SRD's existentialism seems more far-ranging (although not necessarily more meaningful) than Tolkien's Catholicism, but I give the points to SRD here. 

Plotting-- Donaldson or Tolkien?
Donaldson, slightly, again with the caveat that his plot for the first Chronicles owes a lot to Tolkien. But Donaldson seems better able, in my able opinion, to stretch out a climax much longer than Tolkien. And SRD's greater prolificness gives him much more narrative space to write gripping stories.

Friday, December 8, 2017

Free laptop? Much love to you, U of A!

So, yes -- the University of Arizona just gave all its lecturers free laptops. This is part, I've been told, of their general effort to update the tech for all faculty, and it just so happens that lecturers are being considered faculty for the first time.

Anyway, although this move has apparently been in the works for months, we just got the announcement a few days ago. Just picked mine up, in fact. I've said it before, but it's worth saying again -- I absolutely lucked out in getting hired by such an awesome place. I mean, really . . . a free laptop.  And the exceptionally cool part is that I'd just been about to buy a new one; my current lappy is over four years old and running down.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

Latest Tolkien Publication: Fastitocalon

Just received my contributor's copy of Fastitocalon, which is a European journal dedicated to "studies in fantasticism ancient to modern." The special issue is all about world-building & subcreation, and it allowed me to apply to possible worlds theory (as a branch of narrative theory) to the different editions of The Hobbit.

Basically, without delving into any gory details, I think the 1st edition of The Hobbit creates a distinct fictional world which requires study in its own right -- and this world is modally differentiated world from the fictional worlds created by the Revision Phrase (2nd edition text, 1951-1954) and the Assimilation Phase (post-Fellowship of the Ring).

Fun stuff . . . and I actually talked about submitting the original abstract on this blog little over a year ago, here.

Intriguingly, 5 of the 11 contributors were graduate students (two of the articles had dual authors). That number rises to 6 if you count myself, since I'd written my submission prior to defending the diss. 

All in all, it's a nice little volume, and I even recognize a few fellow Tolkien scholars (Robin Anne Reid, Thomas Honegger, Alan Turner, Anahit Behrooz). 

Now, shameful-secret time: I actually had no idea what a "fastitocalon" was, so some time ago I googled it only to realize that I should have known all about it already. It's a medieval sea monster that Tolkien wrote a poem about (published in The Adventures of Tom Bombadil). Kinda embarassing, I admit, that I totally glossed over the fastitocalon in my reading. Also, I belatedly realized, the monster also appears in several Final Fantasy games.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

The U of A Writing Program Wins a Major National Award

Well, hot dog! A few days ago, I learned that our Writing Program has been awarded the 2017-18 CCCC Writing Program Certificate of Excellence. (The 4 Cs are the major U.S. rhet/comp organization, akin to MLA for literature people.) Since I'm such a recent addition to the university, this award leaves me feeling somewhat bemused -- especially since many lecturers, TT faculty, and administrators have been advocating hard for years to improve this program. Still, this is major, and I'm excited. Please let me gush for a moment.

Arizona's massive efforts to improve the working conditions and lives of its lecturers was a major deciding factor in the award, according to the notification we received. Really, I've been awed at the many initiatives our Writing Program has undertaken:

  • A major salary hike a few years ago,
  • Ongoing efforts for shared governance in the English Department (i.e., lecturers voting on departmental issues), a promotion plan, and three-year contracts
  • Just this year, an additional $1 million in WP funding to reduce class sizes to 19 students by hiring more lecturers -- a move that directly led to my hiring last summer.
There are a lot of other rhet/comp-y reasons for our program's being singled out, which I'll copy/paste below. (Since the announcement has already been made on the CCCC website, I'm pretty sure I'm not breaking any rules by posting this!) In all honesty, I couldn't have been more lucky to wind up in such a fabulous institution.

"The following are comments provided by the selection committee:
"The committee applauds the efforts within this program to establish meaningful, livable, stable non-tenure track positions with shared governance and opportunities for professional development. The first-year class sizes are 19. The scope of this program is huge, and even though it is largely FYW, it is FYW done well. Ongoing faculty self-assessment and required continued professional development help all instructors maintain an investment in FYW teaching. Courses that adhere around outcomes allow for different kinds of autonomy, even as careful assessment helps highlight how best to reach course goals. The program has integrated and modified many kinds of “best” practices in FYW teaching and learning, from reducing and extending support for less-confident or underprepared students to innovating with placement for all writers (including multilingual writers).
"Indeed, the committee believes that the University of Arizona serves as an exemplary model for peer institutions in a number of ways, including the following: 1) their revision of course content for the FYC sequence, beginning with a focus on a genre approach in the first semester with a focus on a WID approach in the second semester in order to improve students’ ability to transfer writing skills and abilities across contexts; 2) best practices in program placement through a DSP approach, which better responds to the needs of a diverse student body; 3) the different levels of support for a large faculty serving a large number of students, including the greatly improved working conditions of Lecturers and the both required and optional aspects of continued, annual reflective professional development opportunities; 4) the reliance on an outcomes-based approach through portfolio assessment at the course level and data-driven assessment at the program level in order to maintain continuity and quality across a large number of diverse course sections. Additionally, as a result of the number and quality of publications authored by faculty in the program, faculty in U of A’s Writing Program have proved themselves to be model teacher-scholars, not only for others at peer institutions but for the field more broadly."

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

White Male Bashing as Criticism -- the LARB review of Bladerunner 2049

So, I just finished reading the Los Angeles Review of Books review of Bladerunner 2049. For the record, I loved the film. The themes were intellectually engaging, the score impressive, and it handled its characters with intelligence and respect. All in all, I consider it an exemplary sequel.

The writer of the LARB review, alas, does not.

I should clarify that when I call this a "poor" review, I do not mean in the technical sense. Wendy Hui Kyong Chun clearly has a great grasp of film technique, and her actual writing is lucid and engaging. Instead, what I mean is the refusal to see the film on its own terms -- preferring, rather, to see in one's own ideological/political lens, and then drenching the film in invective. The discussion of BR2049 on the IAFA listserv actually made many of Chun's main points last month, but she assembled them into a single article, so I'll tackle the review here.

Her basic idea is to look for why the film has failed to connect with audiences and find huge box office returns. The obvious answer, of course, is that BR2049 is a slow, moody, atmospheric film with little action and no humor. Brilliant, but way too artsy and cerebral for mass appeal. Chun, though, comes up with a few alternative humdingers of answers that, shall we say, really grind my gears.

She pinpoints two major problems with the film. First, she loathes the film's major theme, i.e., the “obsession with and nostalgia for what is real.” In more detail, she states:
"This question of the real — one that haunts film scholars everywhere as they mourn the loss of celluloid with its alleged physical tie to events that really happened — is arguably one that audience members brought up on digital media simply don’t care about."
This objection doesn't merit much rebuttal, I don't think. The real-fake or real/illusionary binary is about as ancient as it gets, and iphones haven't changed that. Indeed, some postmodernists often speak as if the technological advances of the last few decades have superseded everything we know about humanity, but until a post-human possible future becomes a reality, human nature is still pretty much the same -- and the urge to separate what is real from what is fake ain't going nowhere. End verdict: BR2049's theme is still relevant.

The second objection requires that one be okey-dokey with excessive, blatant, and unapologetic white male bashing. Oh, like most savvy critics, she frames the bashing with progressive-sounding theory language. And, certainly, some points about the film are undeniable: there are no major non-white characters (although there aren't many major characters total), and the minority secondary characters are hardly enlightened representations (though they're not actually offensive). But, mostly, Chun's critique of the film can't be separated from generic white male bashing. A quote:
[W]ith the latest mass shootings and the rise of white supremacist male avenger, the wounded white male isn’t quite the sympathetic character he once was. What’s tired — or should become so — is the simultaneous invisibility of people of color as protagonists and their hyper-visibility as raced others.
Let's take her truly mind-blowing first sentence. First off, she's pooh-poohing the "wounded white male", aka Ryan Gosling's character K, in this film -- as if his character's existential state was rendered moot or unimportant by his ethnicity and gender. She's not critiquing his actions, mind you, which are no worse than any other noir detective's -- she's focusing her criticism entirely on his skin color and genitalia. She knows better than this, I'm sure. After all, she'd never dare describe a non-white character in a similar way.

Even worse, "latest mass shootings?" Seriously -- the hell? What do mass shootings have to do with ANYTHING in this film? Although most cases of domestic terrorism (and serial murderers!) are white males, K is neither a domestic terrorist, a serial murder, a WASP, a Wall Street-bourgeois, a redneck, a hipster, or anything else associated with "white male" you care to name. This isn't even film criticism. She's just railing against contemporary American culture, which, sure, fine, if that's what you want to do. Knock yourself out. But it's not film criticism.

As far as the second half of that extended quote goes . . . well, sigh. Look, of course Hollywood should be more diverse. No reason not to! Diversity is good for the culture, and it's aesthetically good for cinematic art in general. But you also sometimes just have to accept that art is HARD. No single piece of art will ever be everything to every one. The only thing that matters, to paraphrase Oscar Wilde, is whether the art has been done well or poorly. Wilde, incidentally, had argued art for art's sake precisely because excessive Victorian moralism had castigated his own artistic productions. We applaud him because we are no longer Victorians, but we also have our own cultural blinders, political keywords, hot button issues, and such forth. BR2049, to my mind, seems like it was the best film it was capable of being. I didn't see any obvious places to insert diversity . . . and criticizing the film for transforming slavery into a "white-on-white" affair, as if that someone erases the history of real slavery, is just eye-roll-worthy.

Mainly, because art is difficult, I think critics should also acknowledge that films simply can't be all things to all viewers. Perhaps the writers and the director just didn't have the personal capacity or talent to be laudable multicultural AND tell the story they wanted to tell. Although BR2049 may not have been sufficiently progressive for some, to castigate the film -- and it's white male protagonist -- so thoroughly is really to miss the trees for the forest. A postcolonial and race critical perspective can certainly bring to light important problems, but a good critic should also open themselves up to the story the film wants to tell (rather than the story s/he wishes the film had told). I don't think Chun ever makes that effort.

Ironically, while making passing references to "numerous evocative and thought-provoking sequences," the only thing Chun truly seems to enjoy about BR2049 involves how the film itself seems to engage in white male bashing (in her view, at least.) "The desires to love, to be loved, and to be special are brutally and ironically undermined," she writes. "Is this the height of white, male individuality: being named a 'joe' by a holograph named Joi?"

I agree that the film "brutally and ironically" undermines the desires to love and be loved. Where I part ways is the seeming callousness with which the reviewer notes K's suffering. We already know that she has little sympathy for "wounded white males," cuz mass shootings. Still, Gosling's character is sympathetic, and anyone who doesn't recognize that is either a soulless jerk or a critic with a political axe to grind. I'll be nice and suggest that Chun is the latter. White males are bad -- okay, fine, we got it. But any insightful or useful criticism has to look at issues of good and evil, vice or virtue, kindness or cruelty. Gosling's character scores well on all these marks insofar as his programming lets him. To fail to recognize that because of the ethnicity/gender is to fail to recognize a good human being, K's most cherished ideal, when one sees it.

Friday, November 24, 2017

Lloyd Alexander -- the Translator of Jean-Paul Sartre?

As part of my Stephen R. Donaldson, I've been reading some Jean-Paul Sartre -- mostly Being and Nothingness and his novel, Nausea. I'm pretty familiar with Sartre in broad outlines, of course. My first semester in college, I went through a pretty big existentialist phase thanks to my Introduction to Philosophy course, which had a "Existentialism is a Humanism" as one of the optional readings in the back. What self-absorbed, rebellious 18-year-old atheist wouldn't be captivated by a philosophy marked by "anguish, despair, and forlornness?" I eventually got over that phase, partly because it seemed pretentious and partly because I couldn't (then) understand any of the harder philosophical works, but I still loved Donaldson (whose link to existential thought I hadn't then quite realized). 

Anyway, reading Nausea for the first time, and I noticed that it was translated by a "Lloyd Alexander." 

"Huh!" I thought.

So I checked this out, and it turns out to be true -- the guy who wrote The Chronicles of Prydain, a classic of children's fantasy, also translated perhaps the most important existentialist novel ever. He also translated Le Mur by Sartre and selected writings by Paul Eluard, a French surrealist. I'm not quite sure what to make of that. On one hand, you can kinda sorta see Taran as an existentialist hero; on the other hand, the the standard existentialist emotions aren't there at all. I'm sure some enterprising scholar of Alexander has already explored this link. I might have to delve into that sometime.

Incidentally, I hated Nausea. France just seemed to produce a lot of grotesque and depressing novels in the 1930s -- Jean Rhys's Good Morning, Midnight is set in Paris, and Djuna Barnes's Nightwood is also set there. Happy-go-luck fellas like myself really are tempermentally unsuited to novels like that.

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Reviews Editor for Fafnir. (Also, the Baum Bugle!)

Well, a minor happy piece of personal news this Thanksgiving -- looks like I'll be the new Reviews Editor for Fafnir: A Nordic Journal of Science Fiction and Fantasy Research. I actually applied for the open editor in chief position, which I also applied to last year, but I came in a narrow second. 

Still, luck was with me. The editorial board had already decided to expand their reviews section (monographs and dissertations both), and they decided to offer me the position before placing any open calls. Well, I love books reviews, so this is really quite good. Plus it won't be as time intensive as the full editor in chief position, so this will provide more time for personal research. It's a win-win situation here. I'm looking forward to starting. Fafnir publishes four times a year, so the current issue is now being laid out. I'll be starting officially in January 2018.

In other news, my friend Sarah H. is also about to assume the editor in chief position for The Baum Bugle. This publication has been around, literally, for decades, and Sarah -- as a lifelong L. Frank Baum fan -- has read virtually every issue of it. This is such a cool thing, and I'm pretty proud of her.

On the plus side, she already commissioned me to write a short piece on The Magic of Oz, which will get its 100-year centennial in 2019. Looking forward to that, too!

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Mythlore 130 Received

Just got my order of Mythlore #130 (vol. 35, issue 2) in the mail last night. I've particularly proud of this one (the biggest single issue in the journal's history), as it contains both an article and a review of mine. The article, which I summarize here, is about why Tolkien might have co-nominated E.M. Forster for the Nobel Prize in 1954. The review is of a great biography about Angela Carter, the British fairy tale writer and postmodern feminist. 

Incidentally, this may be the first physical issue of Mythlore I've ever handled. All my prior experience with the journal has been through either an online database or through a pdf of an interlibrary loan. Nice looking volume, in all. 

Christopher Tolkien, semi-retired!

So, the big news last night is that Christopher Tolkien has resigned (retired, I suppose would be a better word) as the director the Tolkien Estate. He'll remain the literary executor, but still, this is pretty big news. This announcement also comes on the heels of the big news from a few days ago that Amazon just acquired the global t.v. rights for a prequel series to The Lord of the Rings, and it's hard to imagine that the two pieces of information are unrelated.

Anyway, though, as can be gleaned from the comments section in the above link, Christopher Tolkien's centrality to Tolkien Studies is about as high as you can possibly get, and his influence on the field as great as any scholar, just about, could make to their field. I certainly don't know any comps, especially as C. Tolkien started his work decades before Tolkien scholarship became as prolific as it has been. I wonder sometimes if the fact that he's the son of Tolkien Sr. has partially obscured his scholarship -- before I began my dissertation (I admit this to my embarrassment), I had the lurking cynical suspicion that the plethora of new posthumous editions of Tolkien's was just a money ploy. Of course I realize that's all nonsense. A literary executor can make or break the reputation of a great writer -- Franz Kafka had a great one, Edgar Allen Poe had an awful one. The still-strong popular reputation, and the booming critical reputation, of J. R.R. Tolkien just wouldn't have been possible without the decades of work C. Tolkien put into setting and correcting new textual editions.

If someone ever complied a list of the top literary scholars of the 20th- and 21st-centuries, I'd have to imagine that C. Tolkien would make the top-20.

About the new Amazon series of LOTR, I have high hopes. I never really liked the Peter Jackson films, even his critically acclaim
ed first trilogy, and this could be something good. Of course, there's no script or ideas for the prequels yet, but Amazon has the money and apparently has the willpower and daringness to emulate what HBO did for Game of Thrones. Martina and I watched the first episode of Amazon's adaptation of The Man in the High Castle, and it was quite competent. (Although, ultimately, we didn't continue the series; as a Czech, Martina usually refuses to watch anything involving Nazis or World War II.) So maybe they could work some magic for these new prequels.

Saturday, November 11, 2017


Well, actually, last Thursday night with Chomsky. In celebration of luring Noam Chomsky away from MIT, the U of A had a "discussion" with him at Centennial Hall. Tickets were $15 -- and I don't know if I was outraged they were charging for an academic event, or disappointed that someone at the very pinnacle of academia didn't bring in triple-digit ticket prices!

(Regardless, the ticketing website was the most convoluted thing imaginable. Despite that, a pretty nice crowd showed.)

Anyway, the discussion itself wasn't much -- just some normal observations about current politics, media, human rights, nuclear war, and the like. Nothing particularly insightful or amazing. Still, the wife and I went for the pleasure of seeing a genius, not any practical or academic benefit, so we were happy. Plus the discussion and following Q&A went about 2 hours long, so we certainly got our money's worth.

Afterwards, we went to Chipotle's. Apparently, one of my students works there, and she gave us free chips and quacamole. She only did it cuz she's fun (i.e., she probably does the same thing for all her friends), so only later did I realize that, technically, we may have been bribed. Whoops.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

First Annual Conference on Gender-Based Conference (U of A)

Spurred on by that encyclopedia article I wrote about Stephen R. Donaldson and aliens, these last two months I've been hammering away on an article about the relationship between his work and gender violence. With the article entering the final stages, the following opportunity was just too good to miss: the First Annual Conference on Gender-Based Conference, November 3rd & 4th, hosted here at the U of A. I didn't go last evening since it started at 6:30 pm, and that's perilously close to my bed time (although I hated to miss the keynote address by Brooke Axtell), but I'm making the Saturday sessions.

So far, it's a pretty good conference. It's a bit less academic than I was hoping for, being a bit more practical about how to solve issues of gender-based violence, but I'm learning some valuable things about terminology and the kinds of discussions current in the issue. Even though my interests in the topic are a bit narrower than most people's who went there, I'm glad I went.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Taking one for the team . . .

So, I've had an absolutely beautiful schedule this semester: four classes, all back-to-back on MWF, with only one prep and plenty of time to work in the mornings. Well, a kink's just been thrown into those gears. Apparently, one of the lecturers here suddenly resigned yesterday, and I responded to the frantic emails of the WP director calling for help. I figured, why not, what with my (relatively) open schedule. Plus, it's just good to help out the department during a pickle.***

So I'm going over the previous instructor's course documents and D2L, trying to get a feel for what he was doing after 10 weeks. Plus, no idea if he had given his students any more indication about his leaving than he did the university. This'll be weird . . . but, also, strangely less pressure than my normal classes. I'll meet the students tomorrow. We'll see how it goes!

***Incidentally, our WP director told me how she'd been bragging just the other day, "Oh, October's always a crazy month, but absolutely nothing crazy has happened." Her friend ominously replied, "But October ain't over yet."  Lo and behold -- not only this course and two others all get sudden & unexpected on the last day of the month -- Halloween, no less!

Sunday, October 29, 2017

White Supremacist Rally in Murfreesboro

Life conspires to make my existence dull, apparently.

The solar eclipse hit Tennessee just a month after I left for Tucson; Arizona barely saw anything dramatic, whereas the world went completely dark in the Murf. Then, after narrowing missing out on that job in Houston, Hurricane Harvey struck the area, causing massive flooding and evacuation.

Now, yesterday witnessed a huge white supremacist rally in Shelbysville and Murfreesboro, TN. Worried that another Charlottesville might happen, businesses closed, people were warned away, and the university canceled several scheduled weekend events. Interesting tidbit: the rally organizers picked the area because they thought it significantly less likely to spur counter-protests than in Charlottesville, a relatively liberal bastion . . . which implies that Tennessee is particularly racist-friendly. Nonetheless, there was a enough push back that the organizers canceled the Murfreesboro rally at the last minute. 

Mad respect to everyone who counter-protested anyway. Wish I could have been there.

Full details can be read here.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

An wretchedly awful and completely bad psychoanalytic Kristevan interpretation

Currently, I've begun reading a psychoanalytic interpretation of Stephen R. Donaldson (cuz that's how I roll, baby). Although quite well-written, especially engaging with Julia Kristeva's theory, the incompetent literary analysis finally irritated me so much that, after a particularly egregious misreading, I wrote in the margins, "Jesus, no, this is just stupid!"

Since this was a library book, no less, I now have the difficult moral decision of whether to erase that remark when I return the book. On one hand, marginalia is technically vandalism. On the other, I feel a responsibility to warn all those fresh-eyed eager young undergrads, bedazzled by the complexities of Theory, who might be tempted to consider anything this particular book said seriously.

Anyway, in other news. After getting bored with writing a feminist analysis of Tolkien, I decided to write a feminist analysis of Donaldson (spurred by the enthusiasm I felt in writing the encyclopedia article about him and aliens). Anyway, I wrote something along the lines, "SRD hasn't received the critical attention that his status as a major modern writer of speculative fiction deserves." After a bit, though, I realized that this wasn't quite true. Although only a handful of academic articles have appeared on Donaldson, there are currently three monographs on him -- which ain't bad for a still-living fantasy writer who isn't Rowling or George Martin. 

The best Donaldson book, of course, is by William Senior. Another is . . .. well, let's just say that it doesn't much challenge Senior for title of "best book on Donaldson."  Then there's this Kristevan monstrosity.

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Sejong wuvs me?

Open up my mailbox yesterday, and what do I see but a letter from the Sejong Cultural Society informing me about the "2018 Sejong Writing Competition." Needless to say, I haven't the foggiest notion how they found me or why they contacted me -- I recently did a movie review on South Korean film director Bong Joon-ho, but that's it (and that hasn't even been published yet).

Most ironic of all: the writing contest isn't even open to anyone over 25 years old!

Saturday, September 30, 2017

I've been cited!!! (sorta kinda maybe well not really)

Although I've now a decent among of published articles for an early career academic, considering the glacial pace of academic publishing, it takes quite a while for anyone's ideas to disseminate widely enough to be cited by other scholars. My only essay out long enough for citation is my first, an article on Stephen R. Donaldson and the idea of genre. By a stroke a great good fortune, the director of my undergraduate senior thesis, Dr. Donald "Mack" Hassler, was compiling a volume of essays with Clyde Wilcox called New Boundaries in Political Science Fiction and, well, to make a long story short, he threw a young protege a bone, and gave me my first publication.

Anyway, you can imagine my excitement when I recently saw that someone had cited me. Actually, tbh, I've been cited once before to my knowledge -- way back in 2011 or so, a scholar named Patricia Kennon quoted from me in a contribution to Irish Children's Literature and Culture: New Perspectives on Contemporary Writing (2011), quite the pleasant surprise when I found out a few years later.

Within the last few weeks, though, as I worked on my aliens article for SRD,  a new essay on Donaldson by someone named Emily Auger, Gothic Science Fiction: 1980-2010 (2011), came to my attention. It's a pretty decent article, too, pressing on Donaldson's aversion to posthuman identities (through the metaphor of ruined skin and the technology of genetic mutation in his Gap novels); although perhaps excessively theory-heavy, Donaldson deserves more discussion & this certainly fits the bill.

Anyway, the Works Cited quickly drew me like a moth to light, and voilà -- my 2008 article made the cut. "What part did she actually cite?" I wondered. So I read the article, and . ... well, apparently I didn't make the cut. 

Alas and alack, Dr. Auger made no reference to my article anywhere in hers, despite the WC reference. Seems as if she included the citation isolely for completeness's sake, but couldn't find any rational means of incorporating a direct quote or paraphrase. Technically in terms of MLA, that's a no-no, but can't say that I mind, honestly. Truth be told, I'm a bit embarrassed by my essay. Although Political Science Fiction came out in 2008, I mostly wrote the article in 2005, my final year of undergrad. I haven't read the essay since then, dead-sure that there'd be some absolute undergrad howlers in there, but the encounter with Dr. Auger's essay forced me to revisit the piece. Luckily, my library had a copy. And . . . .

. . . . well, it isn't as bad as I'd originally feared. Sure, there were a few howlers. For example, I had used the phrase "social construction of evil" despite (I easily see now) not knowing exact what that phrase meant. Also there were some truly cringe-worthy over-generalizations on what fantasy literature is and does. Plus several additional counterarguments that should have been rebutted, possibilities I just wouldn't have known enough about back then to counter. Still, all in all, it's not bad for someone in their first year of an MA (the period when I actually sent the final manuscript to Dr. Hassler). Nobody reading it today could realize that, of course, but so it goes.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Evangeline Walton, papers!!!

So, some random coolness. Browsing through our U of A Special Collections, I realized that we have the papers for Evangeline Walton, a relatively well-known American fantasy writer, pre-Tolkien. She did a number of books based off Welsh legend and the Mabinogion trilogy. I bought a number of her books from a used bookstore last fall, intending to read her, but never quite got around to it. Anyway, apparently she spent the last part of her life in Tucson, so gave her papers to the university.

If I ever get some time or the opportunity, I might try taking advantage of that collection for an article, perhaps.

Friday, September 22, 2017

Another weird Tolkien pop culture reference - the GANDALF trial

When I recently got the editorial comments back for my review of Okja (dir. Bong Joon-ho) for Science Fiction Film and Television, the only tweak they required was some clarification on the A.L.F. (Animal Liberation Front). My review, they said, made it sound as if Bong had simply created the group for the film, when in fact it is a very real, clandestine, leadership, world organization for animal rights.

Yeah well, er, um. . . . I won't admit this to THEM, but I actually had no idea that it was real. Somehow, despite all my background research on the film, it never once occurred to me that Bong might be using a real organization to help his protagonist. (*embarassed*) Anyway, after some quick googling, I tweaked the review accordingly. During the course of this googling, however, I stumbled upon something called "the GANDALF trial" from the U.K. in 1997. 

Now, no need to panic -- everyone's favorite wizard is by no means guilty of any high crimes or misdemeanors. Instead, GANDALF is the acronym -- and they tried really hard to make this work -- for Green Anarchist and A.L.F.. The wikipedia entry for this head-scratching event is here. In short, a number of animal rights activist were jailed for conspiracy to commit property damage. The acronym was the brainchild of their defense team, and it just goes to show how strong an environmentalist message could be read into The Lord of the Rings

A weird sidenote -- surely, methinks, I must have casually encountered information about this before, somewhere. Maybe I'll have a look through Patrick Curry's criticism again, since he's the best known environmentalist Tolkien critic, and he tends toward comprehensiveness. Still, this is the first time the GANDALF trial seems to have registered with me.

Monday, September 11, 2017

Oh, an encyclopedia article on aliens in Stephen R. Donaldson

So, Stephen R. Donaldson's one of my favorite writers, someone on whom I did my undergrad senior thesis. (I went to Kent State, where he got a MA, and they have a nifty SRD special collections.) Well, recently there was a volume asking for articles on the aliens in the work of various writers/tv shows/movies. The story of this volume is rather interesting. Mike Levy, a quite well-known sf and fantasy critic, tragically passed away recently, and his widow asked the fantasy scholar Farah Mendlesohn to take over this book he'd been contracted to write. (Together, Levy and Mendlesohn recently wrote a fantastic book on Children's fantasy literature; the cover itself should win an award.) Well, Dr. Mendlesohn wasn't that much familiar with aliens, according to her own admission, so she outsourced the writing of many of the essays and individual encyclopedia articles. I volunteered to write an article on aliens in SRD, and she just green lighted me.

I'm excited about this. Donaldson deserves to be more widely discussed than he is, and even here his sf Gap series is unfairly neglected in favor of his first two Covenant trilogies. Plus, I've always thought his Amnion were a super cool idea for aliens -- one of my personal favorites. Moreover, SRD's continuing concern for human nature  (and an alien species that runs counter to everything he imagines human nature to be) is a nice contrast to the many theorists, most often strangely enough in the humanities, who consistently deny the coherence or morality of any concept such as "human nature." As might be imagined, I'll be bringing up some notions of posthumanism to be on the discussion.

I already got a draft done, and it should be finished in a few days.

There but for the Grace of the Job Market Go I

If life is inherently random, the academic life is randomness squared. With parts of Texas (including half of Houston) underwater because of Hurricane Harvey, and the same with Floria due to Hurricane Irma, it's hard to avoid thinking about the fact that half the academic jobs for which I applied last year were in either Texas or Florida. I actually had two job interviews in Texas, one in Tyler and another in Houston. Had fate brought me to Houston in particular, I'd be an evacuee right now. As it is, in the desert it's been weeks since I've seen rain.

Best wishes to everyone weathering the storm(s).

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Scientia et Humanita Issue 7 has been published!!!

Okay, okay, technically, the print version of the journal came out several months ago. Yet, due to various technical foibles, the online open access version has just been put up here. Okay, technically, the print version has been up for a few weeks, at least the full pdf version and the individual articles . . . but lacking the editor's introduction. Now, though, everything's fine and dandy. Issue 7 can be found here.

I'm very excited about this issue. Not only was this my first tenure as editor in chief, overseeing all aspects of production, but we had a quite nice mix of authors this year -- see my editor's introduction here for more details. Included in this year's issue:

  • "Corpus Christi, Superstar? Decoding the Enigma of the York Mystery Cycle"
    • by Hillary K. Yeager, grad, English
  • "Self-Leadership Strategies and Performance Perspectives Within Student Aviation Teams"
    • by Christopher R. Bearden, undergrad, psychology
  • "Does Criminal History Impact Labor Force Participation of Prime-Age Men?" 
    • by Mary Ellsworth, grad, econcomics
  • "Playing Games as Cultural Expression: Mah Jong, Chess, and Bourré in the Works of Amy Tan and Tim Gautreaux"
    • by Sara Hays, grad, English
  • "Bram Stoker’s Anxieties Concerning the Emancipation of Women"
    • by Rebecca Clippard, undergrad, Japanese & Spanish
  • "The Impact of the HOPE Scholarship on High School Graduation in Georgia"
    • by Muhammad A. Yadudu, grad, economics
  • "Policy Analysis on Youth Aging Out of Foster Care"
    • by Calista Barberi, grad, social work
  • "An Analysis of Euroskepticism’s Influence on Britain’s Vote to Leave the European Union"
    • by Kayla McCrary, undergrad, international relations

We had a record number of submissions this year (25) but only accepted 8 articles, making this our most competitive issue yet. Nice mix of grad/undergrad  as well as mix of disciplines. It also may be our best looking issue yet, since  we did extensive proofreading and layout-checking.

Major innovations accomplished under my tenure:
  • re-vamped our main Scientia website.
  • re-builted our website
  • Composed a Scientia style guide
  • Developed criteria for accepted articles from the social sciences and natural sciences
  • Formalized my criteria for acceptance of articles, which'll be useful for future issues
  • instituted a new process of proofreading that sees both editorial, staff, and author proofs 

Fun stories:
  • One of authors, when I asked which citation style she was using, replied, "APA . . . I think." (Okay, that counts as a horror story.)
    • In fact, judging from this year's issue, APA is apparently the hardest citation style for anyone to get right.
  • When I asked our layout editor why, for her contribution to the issue, she wasn't using the hanging indent formatting for her works cited page, we both realized that, somehow, she never realized that function existed in Word. Instead, she did hanging indents by hitting "enter" and tapping the spacebar 5 times.
  • When we had one econ article unfortunately not make it past faculty review, our reviewer suggested Mary E. as a possible replacement. She revamped a class presentation into an awesome article in the few weeks just prior to us going to press.
  • Chris Bearden, our undergrad winner of the Deans' Distinguished Essay Award, also gets the informal award of "Most Improved Essay in Shortest Amount of Time." He managed to do an unholy amount of revision to his article in only 10 days. He's also a veteran who's just been accepted into the MA program for psychology at MTSU.
All in all, I'm extremely proud of all our authors and staff -- the amount of work everyone put in to make this a quality issue was immense. 

Monday, September 4, 2017

Heading to Kalamazoo!

Looks like my abstract has just been accepted for the 53rd International Congress in Medieval Studies, held in Kalamazoo, MI. Even though I'm not a medievalist, I'm super excited about this. This conference always has a large number of Tolkien panels, and I have the great good fortune to share panel honors with not one but two Tolkien scholars with whose work I'm familiar. First is Jane Chance, certainly in the top 5 of All-Time Tolkien scholars, and the person who's largely responsible, so I gather, for the large Tolkien presence in this conference over the years. The other is Andrew Higgins, who co-edited the scholarly edition of A Secret Vice with Dimitra Fimi -- a book that I reviewed for JFA not too long ago. My review was strongly positive, of course (they did a good job), but the expectation of meeting a person whose work I reviewed is somewhat nerve-wracking!

Anyway, this conference is still a good long ways away -- May 10th-13th, 2018. That'll just be after spring semester. I'm looking forward to it.

Friday, September 1, 2017

British Fantasy Novelist Joe Abercrombie . . . sigh.

So, a whiles back during the writing of an article on Glen Cook (a personal favorite), I realized that I just didn't know much about fantasy lit written post-1980s and -1990s. Which makes sense -- that's around when my reading habits greatly diversified. Still, it was hard to make a case for Cook's uniqueness when I hadn't read several of the most recent writers he's been compared to, so I recently made a foray into Joe Abercrombie, known for writing a "grimdark" type of military fantasy.

Anyway, reading Mr. Abercrombie has caused me a severe case of eye rolling.

I've read Before They are Hanged (2007), the second novel in his First Law trilogy, and half of The Heroes (2011), a stand-alone novel set in the same universe. That was enough for me to get a sense of his style and literary character. My thoughts:


Sometimes, a writer simply tries too hard to be sardonic, cynical, and world-wise, and that's the impression Abercrombie gives. There's tons of observations of the sort, "war is awful, terrible, horrific, pointless, wasteful, devastating" and so on, but also a simultaneous sense that war is the one arena of human experience that gives its participants a special insight into How Dark Things Really Are. Neither Glen Cook nor Steven Erikson, for example, ever succumb to that temptation, but Abercrombie's books seem to revel in it. 

That ethos gives off the strong sense that Abercrombie's First Law books appeal directly to teenage boys struggling to form an identity amid a nascent sense of masculinity. Not that there's anything wrong with that -- since roughly half the world's population has to go through the experience of being a male teenager, a category that includes myself, that sort of fiction is useful. The problem that emerges, however, is when someone outside that very narrow age window tries reading the book. Unlike Cook or Erikson, I just didn't see anything that could potentially appeal to full-grown adults.

In fact, Abercrombie reminded me, not of any other fantasist I know, but of a very popular writer of military historical fiction: Bernard Cornwell. I once read three of Cornwell's Sharpe series of books, which were well-written and well-researched but which all followed the exact same formula. Abercrombie isn't a formula writer in that sense, but he made the same appeals: the knowledgeable and competent military male who has to wage a constant struggle of incompetent or clueless military personnel.


Really nothing to write Middle-earth about here. Only about a half dozen countries with pretty clear real-world analogues, whose sole purpose seems to be constantly at war with one another. The plot,  as well as the characters if they appeal to you, are the only sources of interest here.

Also, the names tend to suck. Sometimes I suspect him of delving into various central and Eastern European languages for his names. For example, my wife says that Crown Prince Ladisla is actually a Czech name ("Ladislav"), and some of the others suggest similar connotations, but I'm unfamiliar enough with those languages to really say for sure. Regardless, many of the names also just seem made up out of the blue.

Another thing of note. Abercrombie has his "Northmen," a standard fantasy analogue of Vikings and berserkers and whatnot, but his major country, loosely based on Western Europe, is called "The Union," which is as jarring a name as I could imagine. If that name sounds weirdly modern (and the technology in Abercrombie is all medieval), that's probably because it is. The Union's major military figures talk and act straight out of 19th-century military history -- just think of "I am the Very Model of a Modern Major General." This may be entirely subjective, but Abercrombie's historical mishmash just constantly irritated me.


Once I got past all the irritating things, I did think quite well of Abercrombie's narrative skill. By the book's end, his literary mannerisms and cliched tropes still irritated, but Before They are Hanged is certainly not the slog it could have been. 

That said, you'd also have to accept that this book is all plot. Abercrombie doesn't seem to have anything interesting or worthwhile to say (or for a critic to write about), and I have a limited patience for reading plot-only novels. Hence reading 1 1/2 of his books seems enough for me -- if you've read one, I suspect, you've read them all, kinda like with Bernard Cornwell.

All in all, I can understand some of the popularity of Abercrombie's books, but he hardly seems to belong with the major modern fantasists.

Monday, August 28, 2017

A Look at Frederick Pohl

Frederick Pohl's one of those names in science fiction who's frequently referenced (he's a grandmaster, after all) but whom I know virtually nothing about. Recently, I gave him a try after reading his Huge-winning short story "Day Million," the awesomeness of which motivated me to try some of his other work.

First I tried The Space Merchants, one of sf classics that Pohl co-wrote with C.M. Kornbluth. It's clearly a riff on the rising of post-WWII American advertising and consumerism, and of course I kept making unfair comparisons to Mad Men. Even without that complications, however, I can't say that the novel itself impressed me too much. It had a nice premise (i.e, in a world dominated by advertisers, one company is tasked with getting colonists up to the inhospitible planet Mars), but it had that slapdash quality that marks so much early sf. The writing in the second half in particular had that hurry-up-and-let's-get-this novel-over-with quality that reeks "sub-par."

Second, I went for Heechee Rendevous, the third book in Pohl's Heechee Saga. (I should have started with Gateway, I know, but I didn't have that one around.)  Anyway, Heechee Rendevous didn't have the same slapdash quality as The Space Merchants, and I really liked the science fiction bits -- i.e., the human race has discovered a whole bunch of left-over technology from the far-advanced Heechee, who disappeared centuries ago, and humanity's finally going to meet them in this novel. The real problem, though, are all the non-sf bits. . . . meaning, of course, the 200 pages smack dab in the middle that blather on about the main character Robinette Broadhead's personal life. It wasn't bad writing, I suppose, but Pohl's character simply didn't have anything interesting to say or show. When Broadhead finally becomes a computer program in order to avoid death, a sf-idea that unfortunately had only tangential relevance to the drama of actually meeting the Heechee, I just kept hoping that someone would reboot the computer. Basically, Heechee Rendevous wasted about 2/3rds of its length as it delayed getting to the main source of narrative interest, the actual rendevous with the Heechee.

I'll probably try Gateway at some point, but I suspect Pohl will just be one of those classic sf writers whom I never warm to personally.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Orientation Complete -- Classes Tomorrow!!

Well, the first day of classes is tomorrow. Am I nervous? Not about the teaching, at least. Although it's been about a year and a half since I've been in the classroom, once you've done it enough, stage fright is no longer really a factor. Plus, I've done plenty of conferences and presentations (and dissertation defenses!) in the meantime. 

I'm actually more nervous that I've minded all the relevant Ps and Qs in my syllabus; the modern syllabus is akin to rocket science, and I keep frantically double-checking things to make sure all the required tidbits are there.

But I'm already half in love with my new program -- and, needless to say, we've just met. I hinted at this before, but the UA Writing Program is really doing some wonderful things. Many of the pedagogical practices they've incorporated, as might be expected, reflect some of the best current theories and practices of rhet/comp theorists. On a more nuts & bolts level, our college's provost just recently signed off on a new $1 million dollar allocation to reducing FYW course class size to 19. Nineteen! That's almost unbelievable for a state college. Ohio State's writing program fought and scratched to get its freshman comp courses to 24; Middle Tennessee State U capped class size at 22 but had a rough 5/5 load for lecturers. Here at Arizona, it's only 4 classes, meaning that we have less than 80 students to teach.

Of course, at that kind of funding, the university expects a quantifiable increase in the composition skills of students. That's exciting too, because I'd love to be apart of a project that might help universities re-evaluate the workload placed on writing instructors. There's a little bit of self-interest involved, too. Because of this new level of funding, the program managed to hire 22 new lecturers for this year -- including yours truly. The funding, however, isn't guaranteed. But I really think the experiment will work, and I can't wait to start.

Something else that gave me the warm fuzzies -- a few years back, the U of A was a major participant in National Adjunct Walk-out Day. After hearing that, what's not to love?  Go . . . wildcats? Okay, now that I've double-checked, that's definitely the right mascot, so . . . go wildcats!

Monday, August 14, 2017

First Day of Orientation at the U of A!!!

Actually, this was an optional meeting, but I wanted to acclimatize myself to the university as quickly as possible. The department textbooks advocates a genre-based, rather than a process-based, approach to writing, so that's a bit out of my comfort zone & I needed as much info as possible before composing my syllabus.  Anyway, a few observations:

  • 95% of the people there were GTAs -- only 5 new lecturers. Should have expected that, I suppose, but I didn't.
    • Speaking of the GTAs, they're quite the young pups. Given that my doctoral program had a slight higher average age for incoming grad students, I'd forgotten what 23 / 24 year old grad students looked like!
  • People are really friendly. I'm really going to enjoy here, I think. (But I already knew that!)
  • Much of the pedagogical and rhetorical information on which this writing program is based is familiar to me from MTSU's teacher training. So, while they're'll be a learning curve, it's going to go pretty quickly.
  • We have a nicely laid out, institution-wide attendance policy and late-work policy. I love when things are nicely laid out like that -- saves so much stress in case there's ever a grade challenge. (I've never had one, but it's a worry that comes with the job.)
  • Strangely enough, based on absences, faculty actually have the ability to drop students from their courses. It's a matter of managing enrollment, but I've never heard of something like that. There's a lot of wiggle room, too -- we may drop students based on attendance. Given that ambiguity, I'll be trying to avoid using this option as much as possible, except in cases of otherwise certain failure of the student.
I have another optional orientation meeting tomorrow, then the big mandatory one on Wednesday. Looking forward to both!

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Tolkien and the 1954 Nomination of E. M. Forster for the Nobel Prize

Now that I've received the official word, I'm pleased to announce the appearance in the fall of Mythlore of my essay, "J.R.R. Tolkien and the 1954 Nomination of E. M. Forster for the Nobel Prize in Literature." 

As you can probably tell from the title, my theme is that mysterious case of why Tolkien would have nominated Forster -- whom we never knew he admired -- for literature's highest prize. To my knowledge, only two scholars have even discussed that situation at any length, both bloggers: Jason Fisher here and John D. Rateliff here.

Basically, I have two contentions. The first revolves around possible literary reasons for Tolkien's nomination. Verlyn Flieger has previously posited that Tolkien could have been influenced by Howards End, but I'm placing my money on A Passage to India. Although postcolonial issues did not occupy much attention in Tolkien's own writings, he certainly knew about such things himself (having been born in S. Africa), making him aware if nothing else of what colonialism did to subjects and rulers alike. He has a telling passage in one of his letters where he describes the English as quickly losing their "generous" sentiments when they reside in the colonies for any length of time, and that's basically a plot summary of A Passage to India. The second major factor, though, is Forster's awareness of the tension between the universal and the particular --i.e., a universal citizen with no overwhelming allegiance to any one country, and the citizen of one particular to the exclusion of other countries. Tolkien, like Forster, sympathized with the universal perspective.

I think my second contention, however, is even cooler. 

Basically, Tolkien didn't make his Nobel nomination in isolation. Two Oxford colleagues, F.P. Wilson and Lord David Cecil, joined him in nominating Forster. Analyzing the Nobel website suggests it was one nomination letter signed by all three individuals, so the question is, why did they collaborate on this? 

My hypothesis is that they were helping C.S. Lewis get elected to a professorship up in Cambridge, which was also happening in early 1954. Tolkien and Wilson, incidentally, were both electors for that chair, and we know that chair was being created specially for Lewis. I think their nomination of Forster, one of Cambridge's most prized writers, could have been a bargaining chip to help smooth the creation of that chair.*** Unfortunately, there's no hard evidence for my hypothesis, but I think I make a compelling case out of what information we do possess.

So, look for details of that in the next issue of Mythlore.

*** The title of my piece, incidentally, hits a slightly different angle from the one my wife wanted me to adopt: "Inklings Scandal Uncovered(!): The Old Boys' Network in Action."

Monday, August 7, 2017

A Memorial Post for a Valiant Backpack!

Backpacks and shoes live a hard life when they hook up with me. I'm murder on them, walking on average 30 miles a week and always carrying 20-40 pounds of stuff. Alas, it's time to retire my current faithful backpack with a commemorative post. He was originally a Christmas present from Martina seven years ago. Despite a lifetime guarantee, he's pretty beat up and close to falling apart, and it's time to find a new stuff-holding companion as I embark on my journey to Arizona. He's been quite a few places with me, including London & Barcelona & Paris & Prague, as well as all throughout my doctoral program, and he's held my stuff pretty much everyday since I got him. Old backpack, I salute you!!

Friday, August 4, 2017

Mary Shelley & The Last Man

The 200th anniversary of the publication of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is coming up. In preparation for an article I'm hoping to write, I've been reading up on her. My main target thus far is her other science fiction novel, the apocalyptic The Last Man (1828). It's . . . . well, it's not that good. Part I describes the narrator's friends, clearly based on Percy Shelley and Lord Byron, plus all their tedious love affairs and marriages. That's to be expected from a novel from that period, I suppose. Part II describes some politics stuff, plus the beginnings of a vast plague. Part III is where the plague finally wipes everyone out.

Where the novel does well is:
  1. Nice portraits of Shelley and Byron. Unfortunately, that doesn't help The Last Man succeed as a novel.
  2. The trepidation of the plague as it begins to sweep over the world. Powerful sense of doom, only slightly ruined by the excessive verbiage in which Shelley likes to say things.
    1. On a related point, it was nice to see Shelley discussing, even if only briefly, Asia, North and South American, and even Africa. A couple times she notes with compassion the downfall of the Aztecs and the Incas. All that shows much more world-consciousness than I've come to expect from fiction of that period.
The flaws, though, are pretty numerous:
  • Ridiculous levels of showing, not telling. Stuff like, "I couldn't do full justice to the impassioned speech Raymond gave Parliament, so I'll just say it was magnificent and describe what happens as a result." So, so annoying -- and a missed opportunity by Shelley.
  • Lack of political drama. Don't get me wrong, tons of political events happen in this novel. It's just that, in line with the "showing not telling" strategy, they're all relegated to the background, a mere backdrop for the personalities of Adrian and Raymond and their love affairs, which are really the main narrative focus of the novel. Raymond's accomplishments, for example, make him a world-historical figure if ever there was one, but the world he affects is presented as so subordinate (in terms of interest) to his personal idiosyncrasies that Shelley simply wastes an opportunity for creating a gripping political novel of the first order. The downfall of aristocracy, after all, shouldn't be relegated to a footnote aimed at showing what a great guy Adrian (based on Percy Shelley) was.
  • Narrative structure. The Last Man is simply someone writing his memoirs -- Lionel Verney basically applies a 1st-person omniscient perspective. That's only a technical flaw, but it's worth noting because of the complicated framing device for Frankenstein.
The science fiction in the novel is also pretty bare.  The future has air travel by balloon, but otherwise Shelley simply takes early 19th-century England and extrapolates it unchanged into the late 21st-century. The future setting gives her greater scope for politics and, of course, the plague, but as mentioned the world Shelley creates takes a distant, distant backseat to the personalities of Raymond, Adrian, and all the endless page-filling love affairs.

Throughout it all, too, is the vague sense that you never quite know why events are happening as they are. Stuff just happens; there's nothing the characters are trying to accomplish from chapter to chapter. Hence there's a major sense of drift as you move along through The Last Man. Clearly, Shelley expects her character portraits and her intense imagery to sustain narrative interest, but that just doesn't quite work for me.  But one thing I thought rather poignant -- in fact, it's striking me pretty intensely just how deeply Mary Shelley was in love with her husband & how much his death traumatized her. It's really heart-breaking, and we can see that, for her as she was writing this novel, she was perfectly well sustained by her personal interest in the characters she was portraying. For example, this final passage, nominally from the "last man" left alive on earth, applies just as much to Mary Shelley herself:
“At first I thought only to speak of plague, of death, and last, of desertion; but I lingered fondly on my early years, and recorded with sacred zeal the virtues of my companions. They have been with me during the fulfillment of my task. I have brought it to an end—I lift my eyes from my paper—again they are lost to me. Again I feel that I am alone” (III.10 339).
Damn. Poor woman.

Anyway. All in all, I'm glad I read The Last Man, but I'm just as glad that I'm done reading it.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Middle Tennessee State U. -- An Appreciation

With my big move to the U of A in Tucson just over a week away, the MTSU nostalgia's starting to hit me pretty hard. It's odd -- I don't get particularly attached to places, and I don't have much "school spirit" for any of the institutions I've attended, at least with the exception of Lycoming College, where I spent three semesters immediately after high school. Still, I've been reminiscing how fortunate I've been in the opportunities given me by MTSU's doctoral program, and how little confidence I had in that program when I first arrived.

When I was applying to graduate programs in late 2011, I found MTSU entirely by accident -- unsure of where to go for a program that emphasized fantasy and science fiction, I browsed The Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts looking for professors, and I found one that taught at MTSU, which I had never heard of before. Looking through their faculty page, I saw several professors had similar interests to me, so I instantly dubbed it my backup school. The knock against MTSU was that it had virtually no academic reputation, mostly because, as I later learned, its doctoral program had been in existence less than a decade. A couple other things also raised my suspicions. It had a cheap applications fee, which is awesome but also reeks of desperation,*** and it didn't even require a writing sample from prospectives PhDs. That was a red flag if anything else. Still, I applied anyway. At that time in my life, even a bad doctoral program was better than none, and that quickly turned out to be the right decision -- I lost my job at a bookstore when it shut down a few months later.

Five years later, I realize how many opportunities MTSU has really provided. So, the following list will be a list of awesome things it does. I'll leave off my great good fortune in finding David Lavery, my dissertation director, since that's not something any institution can plan for. (I.e., you can bring in famous and well-published faculty, but finding someone talented at helping his/her students succeed is more a shot in the dark.)

So, here are the program-specific things that, in my view, really helped build my academic skills and c.v.:

  • Rigorous and up-do-date pedagogical training.

  • One interview question I got this year was, "Who are the composition theorists who've influenced you?" The only reason I had an answer to that question was because of MTSU's mandatory course in rhet/comp theory. Sure, I grumbled when I took that class -- oh, how I grumbled, if only silently. Still, job ad after job ad asked about your pedagogical training, and that course helped me tailor my cover letters appropriately.

    The training went well beyond that one course, though. As beginning GTAs, we worked a full year in the writing center, and I learned what a wonderful thing writing centers actually are. Then, depending on good evaluations and so forth, we got to teach several different courses: two freshman composition courses, ENGL 1010 and 1020, and our sophomore-level Introduction of Literature course. Not many programs permit its graduate students to teach literature, but we got that extra experience. 

  • Dissertation Writing Fellowship

  • A full year's of funding for doing nothing but write one's dissertation is, needless to say, vastly important. These are competitive, so not all our grad students get one, and many schools offer something similar, but this fellowship was absolutely huge for enabling me to develop my ideas without distraction. And it also allowed me the leisure to publish a few peer-reviewed articles, which vastly increased my odds on the job market.

  • Scientia et Humanitas

  • Now, I dare say that very, very few other schools have something like Scientia et HumanitasScientia's awesome for two reasons. First, it gives graduate and undergraduate students a valuable introduction to academic writing and the peer review process. Second, for the staff members, it radically hones their academic skills. I served Scientia in every capacity possible, including editor in chief, and it did more for my writing and my critical evaluation than any course or set of courses I ever took in my graduate career.

  • Departmental Awards

  • One way to make your c.v. stand out among other recent doctoral graduates is to have awards and other marks of distinction. MTSU's program offered several: teaching awards, tutoring awards, writing awards, and merit awards. I was a bit shocked at how few of my peers actively sought out these things, but that betters my chances, I suppose. These awards also permitted us to earn more money directly for our academic writing than we probably ever would for rest of our careers!

  • Service Opportunities

  • An under appreciated aspect of c.v.-building. MTSU stressed this (in direct contrast to my MA institution), so I added several lines to my c.v. that way.

  • Conferences

  • I never went to a conference as a MA student because they terrified me (and my only interest was in studying anyway). And my first conference was only during my first semester at MTSU, meaning that I got accepted before I realized how much my program actually pushed them. On one hand, they liked to emphasize conferences because raises student professionalism without costing the department anything (funding is acquired through the College of Graduate Studies). On the other hand, though, their encouragement motivated to attend way more conferences than I otherwise would have. So, kudos to them for that.

Now, as something else that goes without saying, just because a doctoral program offers certain opportunities, that doesn't mean that all its students know about them, care about them, or have either the motivation or the talent to take advantage of them. Personally, I think I managed to squeeze the absolute maximum usefulness out of my program. There's a few other things I could have taken advantage of, but there's only so much time in the day, and I tried to be constantly proactive about my career. And there were several things that I just picked up on my own -- writing reviews, for instance, or joining professional societies.  But, as I reflect over the last five years, I realize that things could not have turned out much better than they did.


***Several years later, I learned that MTSU has a really high acceptance rate. Although we have rejected applications to our MA and doctoral programs in the past, we receive a very low number of applications in general, which means that some years there's a legitimate worry that we might have more assistantships to give than applicants to give them to.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Tolkien Journals Do It Better

The peer review process is infamously slow. Everyone knows the familiar slog: you poor blood, sweat, and tears into writing an article, send it off to a journal, and 4-6 months later (sometimes more!) you hear a response. In theory, there's no reason the process needs to take so long -- it's only a couple hours of work for the reviewer, maybe more if the submission's worth the effort. But peer review is a thing where very busy academics are doing volunteer labor that, in the grand scheme of things, does very little to advance their careers. Reviewing articles is a service to the field, but it's ridiculously easy to put one off when you're teaching, grading, writing, researching, serving on committees, attending conferences, and all the other hosts of things you must do as an academic.

Hence, you can only imagine how impressed I am with the speed with which I've gotten peer reviews from the various Tolkien journals. Thus far, I've offered submissions to Tolkien Studies, The Journal of Tolkien Research, and Mythlore. The response time? In order: 6 weeks, 2 weeks, and 3 weeks. Even the longest of those wait times, six weeks, is a breakneck pace in the tortoise-paced world of academia. I'm probably just getting lucky with this, but still, in the past I've waited four months for a response from other places. I've heard other journals taking upwards to a year to respond, although I've fortunately not encountered that myself.

All of which goes to show: Tolkienists do it better!

Saturday, July 22, 2017

My Productivity Record for Aug. 2016 to Aug. 2017

It sure would make sense to do these productivity reports for a calendar year, but the August-August timeline -- basically the academic year -- works just fine too, I suppose. In my previous yearly productivity report, I managed 63,000 words of writing, most of it publishable, and I expressed hopes that my upcoming year on a Writing Fellowship would see that output rise. I didn't quite make that, primarily because of job applications and the massive revisions my dissertation underwent during February and March, which meant that I couldn't accomplish any new work. But even if I wasn't quite convinced about the necessity of those revisions, at least the beast is done, and life's going good.

So, the output:

  • Essay on narrative theory and world construction in The Hobbit (under review) -- 6,000 words
  • Essay on J.R.R. Tolkien and why he nominated E.M. Forster for the 1954 Nobel Prize (forthcoming) -- 9,000 words
  • Essay on Glen Cook's Instrumentalities of the Night series (revise & resubmit) -- 7,000 words
  • Dissertation chapter 4 -- 20,000 words. (Yes, it was a long chapter!)
  • Dissertation introduction -- 11,000 words
  • Four book reviews
    • One on Fimi and Higgins (eds), A Secret Vice, 1500 words
    • One on Edmund Gordon's The Invention of Angela Carter, 1500 words
    • One on Jad Smith's Alfred Bester, 1500 words
    • One on Jamie Williamson's The Evolution of Modern Fantasy -- 1,000 words.
  • One conference paper on Glen Cook, 1500 words
Sum total: 60,000 words. 

Other big time sucks (besides the major last-minute revisions to my dissertation) included editing Scientia et Humanitas and -- oh god -- those god-awful job applications, which constitute a full-time job in themselves. 

One item worthy of note: I managed to write all my dissertation chapters within the single calendar year of 2016. Of course, February and March of 2017 saw me rewriting quite a bit of that, but since I liked my original versions slightly better, I think I can legitimately say that I wrote my dissertation in a single year.

Anyway, now that I'm about to teach full-time, next year's productivity report won't be as glitzy, but I'll keep chugging along anyway. 

The Travails of Traveling

Well, more like "The Travails of Moving," but then that wouldn't alliterate, would it? :)

So, I've done several big moves in my life, and while it's always stressful, I'm generally someone who travels light. No furniture, no big ticket items, just a couple (dozen) boxes of books which I usually sent via USPS and that's it. Marriage, though, has a way of helping you accumulate a whole lotta stuff, so our upcoming move to Arizona is proving trickier than any of my other previous ones.**

The challenge now is that, just yesterday, we nearly almost hired a scam moving company called Region Relocations. Thankfully, my ever diligent wife  Martina, the faithful checker of on-line reviews, checked out them out and saw loads of awful ratings. When I asked their customer rep about them, he hemmed and hawed and finally said, "Well, trust more than Yelp." So I said, "Okay, I'll check that out and call you back." Lo and behold, while they were definitely licensed and had valid insurance (as required by law), about 5 of the red flags listed for problematic movers applied to Region Relocations.

Incidentally, when I got off the phone with the rep, telling him that I'd call him back after checking the government website, he sounded VERY dejected -- like, Eeyore-levels dejected. That's red flag #6, if you're keeping track at home.

On the bright side, we got amazingly cheap plane tickets to Tucson. Apparently nobody is willing to fly to the desert during the hottest month of the year, the wusses.

** And that's saying something. When I moved from Athens, OH to Murfreesboro, TN five years ago, I couldn't move there directly because I spend the two months between the move in England visiting the then-fiancée. So I had to box everything up, sent half of it to Pennsylvania to reside with the grandparents, and asked a friend to store the other half and send it to me when I finally moved to the Murf. I got pretty lucky that worked out (and pretty lucky I had such a good friend!). I also arrived in the Murf a week before I could move into my apartment, but that's another story.