Drawing Points

I initially encountered Steve Prince’s work in ENGL 432, last spring, where I remember feeling somewhat frustrated with the way that we were looking at and interpreting Prince’s work.  In that setting, it seemed that Prince’s heavy use of signs and symbols was leading us towards an interpretive strategy where each symbol in a work was a puzzle piece whose meanings we had to guess correctly in order to correctly decipher the meaning of the complete piece. At the beginning of this course, I felt I was watching that strategy be carried over into this class, which was frustrating as an English major, coming out of a disciplinary context where we’re trained to disregard what an artist says their work “means” and use textual evidence and cultural/historical context to put together analyses. This situation was made more difficult by the fact that Prince, as Beth noted on Monday, can tell you what he meant with every visual element on the page, so I felt that steering towards an interpretive method that relies on our own observations was going to be one of this class’s challenges.

I also anticipated that obtaining the methods with which and the context in which to be able to come to new interpretations would be this class’s main pleasures, and I feel that the discussion we had yesterday about using the Kongo cosmogram as visual guide to analyze “Urban Mix Tape 2” was a clear indicator of how rewarding that process might turn out to be. In that vein, I want to share some thoughts about “Urban Mix Tape 2,” and how I think Thompson’s description of the Kongo cruciform can help us understand the piece. Before class, I was looking at the concentric circles expanding from the turntable on which Afrika Bambaataa’s “Planet Rock” is being spin as a gear connecting with and turning the circles on the piece’s left end. The group conversation about the piece was really helpful in helping me bridge the work itself to the other readings we’ve done, and I see that besides incidental parallels, like the alchemical sign for the sun in the top right corner being analogous to the disks at the points of the yowa that represent “moments of the sun,” the representation of ancestral and supernatural figures as moving towards a central point (the hole in the record) is clearly parallel to Thompson’s description of Kongo-Cuban priests mediating between the living and the dead by “singing-and-drawing” a sacred point, which here is the record being scratched. Regardless of whether or not this was part of Prince’s intention, I think these interpretations are certainly valid (and for me, speak to Weheliye’s mix) and I look forward to producing more analyses like them in group settings.

Looking Back While Pushing Forward

Admittedly, I felt a tinge of panic when I came to the blog and found that others had written about something that I had also been thinking about. EVEN THOUGH in all of the classes I’ve taken with Dr. McCoy, she has given us permission, and even encouraged my classmates and I to go back… To remember what others have written on or spoken about… To build off of different ideas that are already taking up space. Sometimes there is a discussion already occurring that sparks a thought or a question within us that allows us to propel forward.

Continue reading “Looking Back While Pushing Forward”

We Do Language

We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.– Toni Morrison

I think the reason Toni Morrison’s epigraph stands out to me so much is the oddness of the phrase “we do language.” The idea that we “do” language is really unusual to me, because I had always thought of language as something that surrounds us, that we are brought up inside of language. Maybe that’s a privilege that comes with growing up in a place where my first language (English) was the default language, where I was read to and encouraged to read. Language was something that existed all around me, not something that was done.

Continue reading “We Do Language”

Waves, Bits, Memes, and Goals for the Semester

“Black literature is taught is sociology, as tolerance, not a serious, rigorous art form.” – Toni Morrison.

Without presupposing her intentions for this statement, I would like to think of the tone of this epigraph as regretful and ashamed (for now). Perhaps it’s my Geneseo training to believe all things not serious and not rigorous as somehow not valuable and perhaps this is why I would regret this sort of assessment of black literature. One thing I am more sure of is the recursive nature of such an epigraph. It lends itself to multiple interpretations and, thus, multiple iterations and applications and this is why I have chosen it for goal setting this semester.  The goal emergent from this epigraph is this: investigate the ways in which black literature can be taught (and learned) as a serious, rigorous art form. Continue reading “Waves, Bits, Memes, and Goals for the Semester”

Doubtful.

During the beginning weeks of the new semester (my last at Geneseo) I have been doing a lot of reflecting, and thinking about what my future holds. This semester has a lot riding on it as there is no turning back when I walk across that stage in May and receive possibly the most important piece of paper in my life thus far.  While looking through the course epigraphs one, in particular, stuck out to me; “Doubt is the big machine. It grinds up the delusions of women and men.” Victor LaValle, Big Machine.

As I was reading Big Machine for class this past week I noticed myself connecting with Victor, as I have always been one that doubts my capabilities. Towards the beginning of the novel, Ricky receives a mysterious envelope with simply just his name written on the front. Wanting to be alone he locks himself in the station bathroom but alas, Cheryl finds him, “Hey! What did that letter say?… Don’t know yet… Well, I’d love to know… Me too”. One can sense a feeling of annoyance from Ricky. He simply just wants to open the letter and be by himself, but instead, he has Cheryl yelling at him about what is inside the envelope.  While reading this I couldn’t help but think back to my senior year of high school waiting for my college decisions to arrive in the mail, and when they arrived having my mom rush me into opening them.  And now again during my senior year of college waiting to hear back from Graduate Programs, hoping to hear good news, but doubting that I will. Similarly to Courtney, I am the first person in my immediate family to go to be earning their Bachelor’s degree. I find that when people ask what my major is and I say “English”. Their first question is, what are you going to do with that? It is almost like they find it hard to believe that one could do a job with a degree in English. Having to talk them through the process of my plans after Geneseo sometimes helps with my doubtfulness, but other times not so much.

 

Circles on Circles on Circles

This class will definitely be the most rigorous English  course I have taken to date my college career,  and as I move towards the culmination of my academia, graduation, I feel encouraged to look behind and contemplate my path; what sort of path is it, what’s it shape? I’ve always thought of college as a line, sloping upward, increasing, and I’d say the large part of the student body would agree with this comparison. But if I seriously look back at the past three years of college and had to assign some sort of shape to all studying, testing, studying, writing, studying, and testing I’ve done, it’s anything but linear.

So, in the interest of ever-evolving my perspective and challenging the viewpoints which ground the base of my character, one of my goals for this class is to challenge my ideas on what college is, and to view my academic career much more holistically instead of something separate from other aspects of my life.

Continue reading “Circles on Circles on Circles”

What’s Next?

I have always been infatuated by the world of art.

My love for art developed when I was younger, always thinking in my head and analyzing what was before me.

However my appreciation for art came later much later. The fall semester of my junior year I found myself in an entry level art class. This class taught me how to feel art; how to look at it. I didn’t just love the way it looked; I understood it. I was taught how to feel it, to know what the artist was trying to portray. Perhaps my favorite part of art is how the artist proclaims awareness for social issues.

Continue reading “What’s Next?”

Big Beginnings

During the first two weeks of classes, I’ve developed a goal for myself as a student in not just this class, but all of my classes: I want to notice the small details that make a big difference. This goal was developed after reading one of our course epigraphs: “My job is to notice…and to notice that you can notice.”–Dionne Brand.  While reading the first ten chapters of Victor Lavalle’s novel, Big Machine, I concentrated particularly hard on some of the intricacies of the text that might not have stuck out to me before.

Two of the recurring themes that I saw in the beginnings of the novel were self-hatred and self-doubt. Right away, Ricky states he knew that Cheryl’s outing with him was indeed a date, but that the “stink of failure had followed [his] relationships for years.” He does not even make an attempt to start a relationship with her; he has already made up his mind that it would end in failure. There is an element of mystery with the situation, but even the fact that Ricky leaves his job to jump on a bus shows signs of self-sabotaging behavior. That continues when he goes to toss salt onto the sidewalks. He neglects to protect his hands with gloves, and the salt makes his fingertips bleed. This physical pain is not something that he is upset about, however. If it is, it is not conveyed through the narrative. I have a feeling that these themes will continue throughout the novel. It has been a true test of my self-control to not finish the novel in an afternoon.

After doing the straddling exercise yesterday, I noticed that I’ve been doing a type of straddling in my own life. I’m the first woman in my family to go to college. The only other person to go was my father. Most of my family members have been happy to complete high school and continue with their adult lives. As I neared the end of my high school days, I realized that I wanted to learn more and that I did not want to be done with my schooling. After choosing English as my major, many family members did not understand it or value the decision to furthering my education at all. I found myself unable to talk about the biggest part of my life around the people who had been the biggest parts of my life. It has been challenging to figure out how to be myself with my family off campus, almost as difficult as walking those two little lines.

Bernice Johnson Reagon states at the beginning of her essay, “Nobody Knows the Trouble I see” that, “popular and academic chroniclers have a way of reshaping reality so that warts and pimples get smoothed off.” She goes on to remind the reader that the “greats” that we read were humans with flaws too. This is such a simple concept, but it struck a chord with me. She claims that when we celebritize our authors/advocates to the point where they are no longer human, they are disconnected from the community/cause that they are trying to represent. I want to pay close attention to guard against that this semester. Instead of celebritizing the authors that we read, I want to notice that they are humans with human emotions and not divine literary gods and goddesses.

Cycling Through Doubt

“Doubt is the big machine. It grinds up the delusions of women and men.”- Victor LaValle, Big Machine

Doubt has always been something that I have struggled with, as many people do; the fear of always making sure I’m making the right decision and doing the right thing has led me to doubt myself many times throughout my college career, particularly. This is why I chose this course epigraph when thinking about my goals for the semester, especially considering it’s my last one and I think the goals, whether achieved or not, can cycle back post-graduation. Continue reading “Cycling Through Doubt”

Looking Back to Notice More

After class the first week, I looked over the courses epigraphs, pondering which lucky quote I would choose to open my blogs with. While reading them over, one in specific jumped out at me. I had spotted a small-scale recursion!   

In the quote, “My job is to notice…and to notice that you can notice,” Dionne Brand repeats the word “notice,” circulating a word three times to emphasize a theme.  Similar to how one topic can start a class and end a class, recursion can also occur in a single sentence.     Continue reading “Looking Back to Notice More”