From the Archives

16. Use definite, specific, concrete language.

Prefer the specific to the general, the definite to the vague, the concrete to the abstract … It is not that every detail is given – that would be impossible, as well as to no purpose – but that all the significant details are given, and with such accuracy and vigor that readers, in imagination, can project themselves into the scene.

In exposition and argument, the writer must likewise never lose hold of the concrete; and even when dealing with general principles, the writer must furnish particular instances of their application.

17. Omit needless words.

Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a pargraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all sentences short, or avoid all detail and treat subjects only in outline, but that every word tell.

William Strunk & E.B. White, The Elements of Style (4th edition), pp 21-23

Again, she delivers.

Talk about pithy – here’s Manolha Dargis on the Sex and the City Movie:

“Sex and the City” delivered the television goods for six seasons, no small thing in the pop culture annals. That should have been enough or at least plenty for all concerned, but Ms. Parker apparently felt compelled to go big screen, making good on a project that had started to come together in 2004, only to fall apart over money issues and Ms. Cattrall’s reluctance to climb aboard. I wish Ms. Parker had let that bee in her bonnet go silent, because the movie that she and Mr. King have come up with is the pits, a vulgar, shrill, deeply shallow — and, at 2 hours and 22 turgid minutes, overlong — addendum to a show that had, over the years, evolved and expanded in surprising ways.

I’m going to see it tomorrow night, and as a big fan of the show I’m excited. But I’m even more gleeful about this review and her use of “turgid” and the reference to Laura Mulvey a couple of paragraphs later. Here’s a spoiler: she hated it.  

Almost Unnoticed (Almost)

I’ve arrived home early from school tonight. On Mondays I typically have class from 4pm to 8:30pm, but as the semester is winding down the class meetings get shorter. This seems to be true of teaching and learning (except in Logic class, where every stinking moment working with Modus Ponens and Constructive Dilemmas counts).

As I was driving home this evening it occurred to me that tonight I sat in the last official classes of this second Masters degree. Even though six thesis hours await me, the only classrooms I’ll be sitting in for awhile are ones I’m teaching. Funny that it almost escaped my notice. I know I’m not quite *done,* but the idea that there are no classes for me to go to in the fall, no schedule to squeeze the last available minutes out of … but somehow I’ll still be paying money. That’s kind of a drag.

In high school I was a part of the Pascal Center for Independent Study – for some people it was two hours of study hall or two hours of pretending to work. I learned how to direct my time and energy toward a project or two that was interesting to me. Unfortunately, one of these projects was bad (really bad) poetry. The evidence remains buried. I’ll need to call on that drive and energy, the commitment to a single goal because the thesis work starts in earnest over the summer. I have no idea what comes after that, but I’ve decided it wise to focus on one big project at a time. This is a revelation to reforming muli-taskers like myself.

As I get older, though, I find my brain can only hang onto one project. The rest is mush.

Book Review: On Seeing

• On Seeing: Things Seen, Unseen, and Obscene. F. González-Crussi. New York: Overlook Duckworth, 2006. 236pp.

F. González-Crussi is a pathologist and medical examiner, and in On Seeing: Things Seen, Unseen, and Obscene he regularly draws on his professional experience to explicate the phenomenon of sight. This collection of meditations uses evidence from a variety of disciplines to illustrate the objects of vision, the role of vision in religious experience, the ways images are interpreted, and the special vision of the analyst. González-Crussi provides no introduction or preface to his work, so the reader is taken along by his stream-of-consciousness style.

Recently (4) – a poor substitute for actual content

Still Must Read: Errol Morris on reenactments and film – he’s on part two now, and I still haven’t read his stuff on the Crimean War cannonballs from earlier; closing sections of Being and Time (although authenticity w/r/t my own death isn’t just something you can pick up); the following texts to avoid my thesis collapsing in a heap on my desk: Merleau-Ponty’s “Cezanne’s Doubt” and “Eye and Mind,” Heidegger’s “Building, Dwelling, Thinking” and “On the Origin of the Work of Art,” and J.J. Gibson’s Ecological Theory of Perception. 

Seen: American Gangster (Ridley Scott, 2007); a pristine 35mm print of Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974). Last week’s BSG did not disappoint, but we’re behind and haven’t watched this week’s ep yet. 

Raving About: Jazz Appreciation Month – the curmudgeon has mentioned three key albums to become acquainted with jazz. For the intermediate listener, I heartily recommend the work of Dave Holland and Keith Jarrett Trio (Jarrett – Peacock – DeJohnette). If you need some jazz in your life, I’ll point you in the direction of Jazz89 KUVO. Eleanor Swanson’s new book Before the Reef – I’ve written about Dr. Swanson’s work previously, and she’s just published this new novel. Congratulations! 

Ranting About: Last week’s weather, that managed to kill a few of my herbs. Looks like we’re in for it once again this week, as they’re predicting rain and/or snow for Wednesday. We play volleyball on a net set at men’s height (7′, 11″), and I hate it when guys block ladies under this condition. The ladies on our team – and almost all the ladies in our co-ed league – can’t make a meaningful kill (spike) at that height. I’m all for fair play, but I was totally robbed earlier this evening and I’m still bitter about it. 

Finished: A very rough draft of thesis proposal; review and comment for one of the journals I’m working with; some grading, but not all of it. I was observed by a peer while teaching Sartre last week, and it went well. My observer offered useful clarification and comment, particularly about Kierkegaard when clarification and comment were needed. 

Working On: Revamping the draft of thesis proposal and determining how it should be presented in 20 minutes. People always complain about the length of verbal presentations, but I’m pretty sure teachers can knock out 20 with our eyes closed. I’m still grading, and wondering if it will ever finish. I’m also supposed to be teaching an online course this summer for the first time, and so I’m trying to transform my ethics course into online content. Yikes.

Writing War Stories

One of the courses I’m taking this semester is the preliminary research class for the MH Thesis. The class has focused a good deal on the process of academic writing and it’s been kind of fun to reflect my own work in this light. I say kind of fun because we have recently spent time using Turabian to learn to note obscure and difficult documents (like the reproduction of an ancient artwork in a book … not as easy as it sounds). Last night we started class by talking about our “writing war stories,” aimed mostly at the goal of understanding how writing gets better.

During my first year of graduate school, I took a seminar on Plato and was required to write a final paper about Plato’s Laws IX. My tack was to integrate Foucault’s views of punishment with Plato’s use of elenchus, and I did well. In fact, the comment on my paper read: “I’m sure that your gift for writing has been praised by others, but this paper is really very beautifully written.” After that first year I headed to the Seminary, and I went there thinking my writing was pretty good.

The first philosophy papers I wrote at the Seminary came back to me with grades of C+ and B- and the following comments:

• “I think, overall, you are trying too hard – trying to jam too many ideas into each sentence, thus causing confusion and imprecision.”
• “Work on clarity and simplicity of expression. Don’t over-write.”

and the kicker:

• “You still need to work hard at 1) clearly presenting philosophical ideas, 2) writing lucid sentences, 3) organizing your arguments cogently.”

These comments led to no amount of consternation (or, in truth, weeping and gnashing of teeth) on my part because I was under the impression that my writing was pretty darn good. For about six weeks I maintained my own view (and continued the C+ trend), but I finally decided that maybe Doug Groothuis was right. Slowly but surely, I worked on coming over to his way of thinking. And it was slow – it took the better part of two years to chisel away at my habits and satisfy complaints (1), (2), and (3) above. In fact, I copied the comments out of those first semester papers onto an index card. I kept the card at my desk the whole time I was in the Seminary.

One other watershed moment of writing improvement is connected to Strunk & White’s Elements of Style, which we read in our final project course “Writing for Publication.” Rule 17 (under “Principles of Composition”) says:

Omit needless words. Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary worlds, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all sentences short, or avoid all detail and treat subjects only in outline, but that every word tell.

I have a note wondering what the last phrase means for philosophical writing. This paragraph remains the fundamental challenge to my writing.

At the Seminary, I learned how to write as an analytic philosopher and that learning has paid off for me on my return to a continental program. Despite the stylistic differences between the two schools of philosophy (and I think there is a genuine difference, particularly when it comes to jargon), the best writing is disciplined in terms of its use of language. Disciplined language is the first step to clear conceptual discussion and organized argumentation, and it’s a process that doesn’t appear overnight. Attention to sentences pays off, though, and by the time I reached the project course for the philosophy MA I had regained confidence in my writing and was proud knowing that behind every 1,000 word book review were four, five, and sometimes six drafts.

At the beginning I maintained that since I’d been doing philosophy for six years I knew what I was doing and I had earned my voice. Man, what arrogance. In addition to better writing, the Seminary also showed me the value of humility when it comes to expression, and the second you’ve got it figured out is the second you need to get back to work.

That’s how most things are in life, I suppose.

Recently (3)

Will Be Reading Soon: Errol Morris on reenactments in film and their relationship to the truth of the image.

Seen: Many, many episodes of The Dog Whisperer. I’ve been practicing my calm-assertive energy. Also, nerd alert: BSG returns tonight, and I’m pretty excited. Want to see: Martin Scorsese’s Shine A Light (perhaps a logical book end to Maysles’s Gimme Shelter).

Raving About: Seeing the Claudia Quintet last night at Dazzle; our ladies volleyball team finally working together – we played a great, fast-paced game last night; our family volleyball team getting back together Sunday night; the rage (and so good discussion) William Lane Craig’s “The Absurdity of Life Without God” inspired in one of my intro classes this week; Nathan Gann’s post about a consumption fast.

I am also glad that it is baseball time back in our fair city, although the Rockies really are losing right now. Over the last eight years I’ve come to notice that the city just doesn’t have the same energy when Coors Field is dark – winning or losing.

Spring is my favorite season in Colorado – trees are in bloom (a fact I wouldn’t enjoy so much if I had allergies), grass is greening, herbs are to be planted, the heat is turned off, students start getting really antsy, the smell of sunshine and spring breeze comes into our little house, and we sleep with the window open. Hurrah! 

Ranting About: People who come to see the Claudia Quintet 45 minutes into a one-hour set and talk so loudly their conversation is audible over the music; the waste of time that was reading On Seeing for my book review (although the relief that accompanied finishing that book was almost worth it). The last episode of LOST featuring the return of Michael was less-than-stellar for a variety of reasons, but it went in the direction I had hoped. Eventually I’ll get to writing about this episode.  

Finished: Enormous midterm for Heidegger Seminar; passport application for NAFTA country travel.

Working On: Rough draft of thesis proposal (no small task, that); preparing to be observed while teaching Sartre next week; reviewing and commenting papers for the journals I’m involved with; have I mentioned grading? One other major project is in the works, and I suspect that once it’s resolved I’ll have quite a bit to say about it … but for now, I’ll keep it under my hat.

I’d forgotten what that is like (some loosely associated statements).

This morning I got on the scale at the gym and after a valiant three weeks of holding steady, the scale went the wrong direction. Early indications that this day wasn’t going to go according to my demands.

Me three weeks ago to thesis committee chair: “Yeah, this is an idea that I can see myself spending six academic hours and (a lot of) dollars on.”

(Different) Thesis committee member to me today: “I read your proposal, and there’s a whole bunch of it I don’t understand.”

Uh-oh.  I talked to my committee chair this afternoon and she indicated that my ideas are leading me in an entirely different direction than I anticipated. I know not much about philosophy of mind – but that’s where I’m headed.

Aw crap.  (Mom, you should be proud of my word choice. No salty dog language on the blog!)

We were talking in class on Monday night about how you know when you’ve read too much. I was sitting there thinking I had it all straightened out, and then I discovered today that I’m not at all sure I even know what I’m trying to talk about. This indication emerged in above conversation with committee chair, who asked me – quite rightly – to clarify what I meant by “that” and “these” and “objects.” This latter problem, though, could be due to the late cup of coffee I drank. Caffeine after noon does not for clear philosophical discussion make.