To the Gentle Reader (please bear with me)

Many of the works that I paged through over the course of my research include a “to the reader” or similarly titled address in their front matter (the pages before the main content of a book begins). This week I’ve been struggling with keeping my own ‘front matter’ of my research and thoughts organized as my writing begins. As it was, when I began my work at the library yesterday, I had fewer than 500 words that I was alright with, let alone happy with. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not someone who shrinks away from spending hours on hours working [my hours at the library this week and last week has been extensive, not to mention hours of working in the apartment], but it has been so difficult this week to feel the pressure of a first draft by next Friday and a disproportionate level of inspiration–I guess we call that writer’s block. While I was feeling cripplingly uninspired to write, I worked on simplifying matters that would make it easier once I began to write such as formatting citations and tracking down a few last secondary sources that summarize historical context that I’ve been missing.

Yesterday, I sat down and began writing what I felt like I was capable of in the moment and although I’m not sure if it’ll make its way into my first draft (and if it does, it will certainly face quite a bit of editing), I drafted my own letter to a reader. I feel like there are aspects of background that are important in understanding my paper, but aspects that don’t fit into a formal paper; particularly, how I came to this focus out of an overview of over 40 volumes and that I am cognizant of many of the gaps that remain, and that this is a speculative object study-style analysis.  As I look into the place of the annotator in early modern England and how books and readers interact, letters to the reader are fascinating to me. Writing is a relationship; while journals and writing for one’s self is often very personal and “for your eyes only”, we still write as if to an audience, to somebody, even if it is a ‘future’ self. How does an audience shape writing? That feels a bit tangential, at least for now and this blog post, so I’ll just let that pondering lie for now.

I have a long day ahead in a long week, so I’ll start to wrap this up. We had a storm last night and I didn’t sleep well on top of that. The trees outside of my writing nest (yes, I’ve made a chair nest facing one of the tall windows) are swaying in the wind today; the sky is grey. There’s no better time to write. Today I’m planning to tackle putting into words the visual analyses for at least most of my main titles of focus, which will then be coupled with individual claims and a synthesis of how these volumes play into the bigger claims of this paper.

So for now, other writing beckons. Time to cue some more Game of Thrones music.

Highlights of the week so far: participating in the Newberry’s first Empty Bowls fundraiser for hunger, a seminar ‘fun night’ Tuesday night, appreciating a roommate who enjoys cooking and baking, a Skype session with a dear friend, and countless giggles with friends over library books, lunches, Conservation lab work, and froyo.

The Rains of Cryptography and other garble on how I’m doing.

Hello, blog–it has been too long. Here’s a bit of a catch up as to what I’ve been up to.

Since I’ve last written, trees have shifted into full fledged fall color and many have begun to lose leaves in the blustery gusts that are this city’s namesake. The gusts lately have a new feeling to them, a sense of the cold winter air that will be here soon enough. Even the last few warm days seemed to be a reminder that much colder temperatures are on their way, whether we’re ready for them or not. Winter is certainly coming has been a phrase muttered a lot over this week (and not just because of a recent casting of our seminar as Game of Thrones characters)–cold weather is coming and with it, deadlines.

While moving forward, my thought process these last few weeks has felt a lot like this:

If I could try to describe the feeling of the last two weeks and feeling overwhelmed by not a lack of ideas, but an abundance of them, the sound and feeling elicited by the sound of dial up internet would be pretty accurate…yep. For a while now, I’ve felt that my research would be better utilized in making a catalog of the 40+ items I paged for future researchers to use rather than any synthesis and claims that forced, but expected for this paper. As interested as I was–and still am–in marginalia and the titles that I’d seen, my work felt forced and like I was attempting to write without any passion anymore. And when you’re starting to feel like that, sometimes you just need to take some time to think about something else, talk to dear friends, and watch The West Wing. It finally feels like thoughts have stopped buffering and started to load.

This week has seen more processing of notes and working on articulating my focus as I’ve gotten through some more transcriptions of annotated volumes that I’m going to write extensively on. Over the course of this week I stumbled upon two–well–three things that have shifted my focus and course of this project. First: the fashionable practice of cryptography in early modern England. Because of the abundance of symbols and images, I tracked down two articles on early modern cryptography. While I’d be surprised if any of the annotations I’m studying are elaborate codes that require “cracking”, I was struck while reading these articles how similarly this field read to how I’ve been thinking about marginalia and that a lot of the same factors (the idea of universal communication, writing with intention that those who should read would be able to, fashioning oneself to fit a model, the magnitude of a reciprocal relationship between an author and reader are just a few of the early ideas that first came to mind again; more on these again soon.)

Second: this week for a large part has been going back and processing photos and notes of the main volumes I know I will use in my focus. A book central to this paper is The Courtyer of Count Baldessar Castilio printed in 1561. This copy was annotated heavily by at least two hands; the majority of these notations are claimed by Gabriel Harvey, an annotator who signs and leaves his initials throughout the volume–some notes are even dated. I began research last week into who Harvey was and was astounded to find a lot of scholarship completed on his life and shockingly–his annotations. While there will be a lot more about Harvey and his notes and doodles soon to follow (and as a major section of this paper), I’ve found that one of his notes has been instrumental in how I’m framing this project. This note is scrawled on one of the last pages of the volume; the blank page is filled with his hand in English, Latin, and Greek.

No excellent grace, or fine cumlie behaviour without three cunning properties; a sound judgment to informe; an apt dexterite to conforme; & an earnest intention to performe.

[transcribed in original spellings; direct page numbers are yet to come for this unnumbered book–apologies for no more specific annotation currently]

This line captures motivations that I believe marginalia plays into as an action taken to inform, conform, and perform. With the realization of the similarities to cryptography and the concepts summarized in this contemporary annotation, my topic’s focus has evolved into a look at how marginalia (at least for some early modern English annotators) was more than a peripheral reaction to works and was an action to assert oneself into the company of the fashionably learned of the era. I set out into the writing process with a new focus, a new thesis, and a new attitude.

Oh, and the third gamechanger? An hour long loop of an instrumental version of The Rains of Castamere. 🙂

making strides in photo storage with the help of Cat Stevens.

This morning has been devoted to organizing and sorting through photos I have taken of the 18 sources that I have viewed so far. After a few frustrating dead ends and not being able to upload photos normally off of my phone onto my laptop (still not sure what that’s all about…), I eventually stumbled upon a solution with Google Photos. How could photo storage be that much of an issue, really? I have around 350 photos so far for these 18 sources. A huge issue of finding a way to organize my photos has finding system that can handle a huge quantity of data. Another factor in finding a platform to save photos: FREE, the most important word for a young scholar. After a minor freak out this morning before discovering the features of Google Photos (“Original” quality photos max out at 16 GB, but a smaller file size and reduced quality is unlimited), I have backed up my photos so far onto Google Photos and created individual items for every book. And through most of this process this morning, Cat Stevens NPR Tiny Desk concert  on repeat was my soundtrack.

The next step (and this afternoon) will be typing notes in the description of photos and making a list of the most interesting features and titles that I’ve seen already before diving into new works tomorrow and throughout this week. The plan for this week has been a major campaign in knocking out getting through a ton of primary sources and from there, figuring out further direction. This plan may need to be reevaluated, as we were just emailed progress checkpoints due Friday–checkpoints that at this point, feel daunting if not impossible with the schedule I’ve set up for myself. Looks like it’s time to reassess and determine if it is possible for me to have an outline and a 1250 word section of my paper written by Friday. Time to put Cat Stevens back on repeat, I think.

Werifisteria and adventuring in libraries.

Today I find myself missing the wilderness. It’s that time of the year where all I want is to be snug in a cabin or tent on the edge of a lake and surrounded by trees that have swayed for centuries. I want to go on cold morning walks and to need a cup of hot coco to warm up again. At the very least, I want to wander around an apple orchard and sip hot cider. And then, it hits me–that’s really all I ever want.

Thoughts like this is escapist, I realize, especially when I realize that the images I have are manufactured ones, glossed images combining favorite memories and perceptions of an idealized future. But that doesn’t make that much of a difference when you’re feeling homesickness for a feeling. According to a Pinterest my mother sent me, “werifisteria” is an Old English word meaning “to wander through a forest in search of mystery” and even if there is no OED listing for it, I like it.

This semester I have the opportunity to embark on a new kind of adventure and in the uncharted waters of a library collection. The same wonder and fantastic little moments of illumination are there, but instead of feeling a connection to the greater wilderness, it’s to the words and reader marks on a page in front of me. The same daunting aspects of the wilderness apply to research–the immensity of things, the fear of losing your way or going down the wrong path, the heaviness of silence and being left with your own thoughts. And seeing as that’s what I feel like I’m missing, it’s time to immerse myself even more and embrace the adventure.

We had a literature review of secondary sources due last night, and while I’ll probably write about it more, it felt like it threw me off of the excitement of research. With an interest so grounded in primary sources, I began to doubt my course of interest and how all these different conversations that inform an interdisciplinary lens correlate–it was overwhelming to attempt to analyze my place in a project that yet feels very fluid and case dependent. But after a talk with Marcy and then chance to breathe after a walk and hot drink with friends this morning, I’m ready again for an adventure with a different kind of “leaf” and in a different kind of wild.

I realized on that walk this morning that more trees have started to change color. It’s a greyish day here, the kind that makes me feel productive but also necessitates holding a mug of tea and being cozy. This blog post will make it on to the blog before I head off to work for the afternoon and then I plan to take the time and make a plan of action for tackling immersion and a bombardment of Special Collections in search of marginalia. But for now, I have The Lumineers playing over my earbuds and thoughts of the Boundary Waters to keep me company.

tea time.

Today was a good day, with a lot of tea. My sister and I went to afternoon tea at the Drake Hotel downtown as a treat from my parents as a “yay, you finished the Mitchell application that you’ve spent months working on”. Growing up, my mother and two of her sisters would take Anna, our cousin Patricia, and I out for tea to celebrate all of our birthday’s once a year. We hadn’t been back in years, and even though it was just the two of us, I think we both still felt pretty fancy.

Beyond a fantastic afternoon with my sister, I caught up with good friends that I’ve been missing, and relaxed with a movie and card games with friends. It was a good, relaxing day, and I’m looking forward to the work–and rest–ahead tomorrow.

Here are a few of my favorite pictures from today’s tea!

The Canon before the Canon

Yesterday we read excerpts of Edmund Spenser’s The Faerie Queene; this was the first time I had actually read any substantial part of the epic, despite my interest in this time and love of fairy stories. Not surprisingly, the reading is dense, but I was struck by how many references and vignettes I could draw from the excerpts that we read. Classical references abound, and not surprisingly so, but where as other scholars recognize these stories, I found myself yesterday identifying classical
references through works of art I’ve seen in art history courses. While I’ve never taken a course in classics, I saw Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne in the pursuit of Florimel by Foster. Florimel’s loose, beautiful hair is described as she is chased by the “grisly” and unchaste forester and doesn’t escape culpability in the poem; she was tantalizing, afterall… [I could go on and on about this problematic discussion, but seeing as that would be an entirely lengthy rant, I’ll continue on for now.] Bernini’s sculpture was created after Spenser’s poem, created in the 1620s; had Bernini read Spenser? If not, it’s clear to see a similarity of stories and tropes that both Spenser and this sculpture relate to in conversation with a classical world.

Beyond the classical world, echoes of Nordic mythology resonate through Spenser. I read both the Prose Edda and Poetic Edda–the primary texts remaining from the ancient Nordic canon–for a course in Norse mythology last year and was surprised by the number of connections I saw between The Faerie Queene and these texts. Themes, archetypes, and the dense verse read very similarly to these translations of myth; even some of the characters names seemed reminiscent of these Norse stories. Britomart, the personification of strong Chastity in Spenser’s Book III reads much like a valkyrie (a strong, female warrior) and the story of Brunhild, a shieldmaiden and tragic heroine. For the most part, old Nordic studies is a relatively small discipline in modern academia but for scholars and authors of the past, these influences are visible [Tolkien’s work is a more modern example]; what I’m curious about is what scholars from Spenser’s day (and even in Tolkein’s time) would have considered as influential works–was Norse myth a canon to the authors of the early English canon?

It is compelling to consider the crosses of temporal and cultural canons that authors of the past and present would be familiar with. Over the course of this reflection, as a modern scholar I see connections between ancient Norse myth, Spenser’s epic of the late 1590s, Bernini’s sculpture of the early 17th century, and Tolkein’s hail to these same motifs. Did artistic dialog influence these repetitions or do these tropes and vignettes distill genuine aspects of the human experience to remain relevant? Is this the quintessential factor of mimesis and art imitating nature? Its a big question and if there is one, an immense answer. I make no claims to having any great insights into this, at least at this time, but it’s been on my mind and now, well…on this blog.

of chai teas and poetry readings.

This evening has been a calm one and after a long week, was much needed. This week saw the beginning of my internship in the Conservation Lab; so far we have been trained to make clamshell boxes for books and sorted a “hell case” of letterpress type. On foggy Tuesday morning, we had a seminar excursion to an architectural boat tour. Through the mist and chilly wind, it was grounding to take in the famous buildings on the river’s edge and eery to watch skyscrapers fade up into low hanging mist. (A synthesis of my thoughts on the city and “seeing” the wilderness is coming shortly.)

Tensions within our group escalated this week to a point of discomfort but after honest conversation and reflection, things have diffused again. Nonetheless: this added stress has been draining. To be able to relax a bit tonight has been necessary. After an impromptu poetry reading of favorite poems with my fantastic roommate, a listening session to The Ballroom Thieves (a chill, folksy, singer-songwriter band whose concert later this month is already on my calendar), and sipping a homemade chai, I find myself recharged, excited, and happy to be in this program and in this city.

On Late Night Breakfast and deadlines.

Back at Cornell today, finals would be over and the first block break of the year would be under way. As a product of the Block Plan, it seems that the schedule and stress levels I’m so used to on campus don’t fade when away from campus, particularly when you’re immersed in a daunting scholarship application. So naturally, as all Cornellians know, sometimes the only answer is Late Night Breakfast. Late Night Breakfast is a Cornell staple on the eve of finals to take a bit to relax, refocus, and buckle down after well…copious amounts of breakfast food. It may not have been free, but Tuesday night called for an homage to Late Night Breakfast and I was glad to have a fantastic and supportive roommate willing to tag along for both breakfast and a much needed ‘Conniption Walk’ earlier in the evening. Over blueberry pancakes and an orange juice, at least a bit of stress began to fade away and after a bit of that break on Tuesday night, it’s time for an update.

The seminar has been fantastic, if you can’t tell from my level of excitement and numerous posts on class discussion. Everyday I feel compelled and challenged to be immersed in such an interesting group of fellow students and to be learning from two phenomenal professors. But I could rave about that for days–as I’ve already done and will continue to do.

Beyond class time, reading materials for the next day, and the other facts of life like making food and sleeping, I’ve stayed busy. Over the last few days I’ve been splitting my attention between class, research, and a post grad scholarship deadline looming closer and closer. As excited as I am for the opportunity I’m applying for–the Mitchell Scholarship, a program providing funding for a one year post graduate program in Ireland–it has been hard to focus and buckle down to actually accomplish anything further for the application. With the frustration of PDFs being temperamental, the fear of hearing nothing back from letters of recommendation despite persistent but polite (I hope!) reminders, and the terrifying reality of personal statement writer’s block, I’ve come to a point of….well…at least acceptance that I can only do so much at a time. I have yet to get my personal statement done and have plans of a showdown with that on Friday morning, most likely over a chai tea. The final deadline for my application is next week but with the confusion of conversion to British time, I have set a deadline for myself a few days earlier.

I met with the Conservation Lab yesterday afternoon and will begin work next Wednesday. They seemed like really interesting people and I am so excited to get going on some conservation projects and to try something new. Stay tuned for an update on my project and how things are progressing. And as a bit of a teaser: yes, there are early modern doodles and yes, some of them are of penises.

thoughts after a hard–but important–day.

Today has been a long day, but an important one.

This morning’s discussion continued to hit hard on race, Du Bois’s The Souls of Black Folk, and a particularly American (or as we refer to in class, US-ian) historical past. Our conversation continued on about race, slavery, perceptions, and narratives that for the most part, are embellished, silent, or lost completely. With purpose and frankly, necessity, we sat in silence as a slideshow of postcards of lynchings played on the projector. The images ranged in times and place of uncomfortable proximity–and how sad is it that that’s justifiable in instances: “not my time, not my place, not my problem” comes to mind. There were images from Minnesota and images from the 1960s; spectators in the frame turned around to face the camera in many photos–some smiled; there were women and children in the crowd. As much as any of us may attempt to distance ourselves from this terrifying legacy of torture, intimidation tactics, and atrocities in this nation’s past, this is relevant–it is our problem. While my American history education had familiarized me with the term of lynching and conjured a concept of terror and pain, no summary or gloss of that brand of historicizing instilled the deep horror and consternation that hits with these images. A distance was always present in my learning of race issues and the history of the Civil War, reconstruction, even the civil rights movement; I was being taught in rural Wisconsin–all of these atrocities were not only of the past, but not of the North and certainly not the Midwest. “It wasn’t just rednecks” Marcy pointed out in class; ‘respectable’ professions and ‘good’ people were among those crowds of spectators–people that were they among our acquaintance, we’d call family friends and in actuality, we call ancestors.

Something terrifying in itself to consider is that these photos are not crime scene photos; they are mementos–postcards and snapshots of a spectacle and tradition. One of the photos includes locks of a victim’s hair as a memento, a practice of commodicizing a lynching. The presence of children in these images is unsettling and as a seminar, we discussed that the presence of children hails a sense of ethics and values and cultural ‘stimulation’; children are included in aspects of the adult sphere to learn the ethics, traditions, and acceptability of their community.

These images are hard to cope with, but I realize that the mix of sadness, anger, and hurt that I feel tonight after seeing these images is a minuscule fraction of the immense pain and scarring that racial inequality and atrocities of a not so distant past have left on this nation and so many lives and that these wounds run deep and are still in danger of infection today.

redecorating my mind palace.

“Research is messy.” Ian remarked during our session this afternoon on learning some electronic tools we’ll be using in our individual research and projects this semester and as it would seem, that remark really struck a chord with me today.

The morning was spent with small groups to do ‘Neighborhood Walks’, an activity that all ACM students studying across the world are participating in this fall. [There will be a post about this coming shortly, so keep an eye out for that sometime over the next few days.] In short, I spent the morning walking around a neighborhood to the west of the Gold Coast and the program digs. Suffice to say, I wasn’t surprised when we were waiting for the bus back after a quick lunch that we had walked around five miles over the course of our meanderings. But more on that some other time.

I’m excited to learn to implement these new tools to help organize and on a night like this, I could use a forum to organize my thoughts. As I have written before, I nod to my college’s block plan scheduling in it’s efforts in making a multitasker out of me. But the curse of a multitasker and at times, self-identified overthinker like myself is that with so many ideas and mental catalogs of lists and things to think/write/accomplish at a given time, at times it’s a juggling act to know which ‘to do’ should go back on the shelf for a bit and what to do with a given amount of time. Minds, as I think we all can relate, get cluttered sometimes. Any fans of Sherlock will know the idea of a “mind palace”; tonight I’m thinking mine could do with some redecorating.

My mind palace is a bit full tonight with the reminder of an application’s deadline hanging around like a relative that wish as you may, you can’t quite see to the door. After spending longer than I would like to admit to on an email in regards to an administrative aspect of my application, I felt exhausted. And, 15 minutes later, I got an email back from the mentor I had cc:ed on the email, turns out, the email in question (in which I summarized my interest in the scholarship, personal passions and dreams, and specifics of how the program aligns so closely with my future goals) was…well…not necessary, as the letter would be written by another committee who already had materials to reference. …alrighty, then.

I’m sure there will be many trips back to my ‘mind palace’ and while I’m sure it will always change, tonight my mind is back in a favorite coffee shop near Cornell; the indie music from my Spotify syncs with the typical coffeeshop tunes and a dear friend sits across the table, working on some scientific reading that I will never understand. There’ll be the familiar long drive back to the hilltop campus and a mix of profound conversation and (poorly) singing along to the radio. But, at some point, I’ll have to leave my mind palace and with that said, I’m going to go heat up my own chai.

I’ll leave you with a Sherlock gif (be prepared for more gifs to come!) of the phrase I’ve mentioned. Cheers!