dinsdag 24 augustus 2010
zaterdag 21 augustus 2010
Travelling in many senses...
The questions:
although you may have a nice supervisor, just writing for her/him is not what you always dreamt about – you would like to reach a somewhat larger Audience. Very good. So let’s talkwalk about what might be good ways of doing so – given the parameters of your topic, research questions etc.
what is the story or the point in/of your work that is most to dear and important to you? what/who is the implied ‘enemy’ of your work and/or what would change if your audience would believe you? do you write as if you want to convince your enemy? bystanders? or do you write for your intellectual friends? when to do what? what about writing for 'the big shots' versus writing for 'the next generation'?
who might already be interested in your topic? in your empirical field? in your theoretical inventions? in your ways of working (methods for doing research, styles of writing)?
who else might you actively interest, make interested? what is needed for that: how to link the interests of ‘the other’ to your work? which ‘other’ to target in that attempt and which other others to forget about (for now...)?
what are the gaps to mind: language (English – or something else?), country (who wants to know about anything that happens in the Netherlands? or in Bangladesh? what are good ways to bypass a lack of intrinsic interest in places like this? what to do with the fact that part of the audience has lots of background knowledge about these places while others do not?), discipline (there are still huge investments in Sociology or Anthropology, etc and so on: how to relate to that?) background knowledge about the field/topic (e.g. marine biology may seem something only specialists would dare to read about; while, by contrast, restaurants are a topic many readers presume they know more about than a young PhD might ever hope to – etc)
it might be helpful to also discuss some texts that you and your then talk-walk companion have both read and then wonder/analyse what it is that makes those texts travel or not travel
woensdag 2 juni 2010
Questions may travel...
Writing about what it not good.
Detached. Calm. Angry. Sad. Argumentative. Empathic. Clinical. What else?
Which difference does it make whether this non-good seems irreducible (e.g. we all die) or someone’s fault (e.g. X killed Y) or puzzling (e.g. why did Y die?) or a social fact (e.g. Y lived in a country in war or with lack of food) – or something else yet again? Neglect, failure, disaster, agression, what have you...
How do you know, assess, judge, feel, find out – that in your field you hit upon something that is ‘not-good’?
What are interesting examples in the literature of ways of writing about what is not good? What makes them interesting?
And the month before:
Comparing: what is it to compare?
What do you compare with what as a part of your research?
How should that help you in answering your questions, telling your stories, etc? Does it?
What is fun/difficult/striking/surprising etc. in the work of ‘comparing’?
What difference might it make to use other terms, e.g. contrasting - or which other other term would be relevant to/in your work?
What are authors/texts in which comparison figures in a way that you particularly appreciate? In which ways do you learn from them; how do you (want to) do similar/different things?
What is it to compare and how have similarity and difference to do with this?
Dutchness as an effect of walking
‘Dutchness’ as an effect of walking
Rogier wrote that we were walking in the ‘heart of Dutchness’. But what is ‘Dutchness’? The polders? The windmill? The light?
Great work on the question on difference is currently undertaken by Amade M’charek. In looking at ‘race’ and ‘Dutchness’, she conceives of differences not as given, but as effects that come about in relational practices. In that sense, walking enacts a very specific version of ‘Dutchness’.
| | Vorarlberger Boden | Dutch Soil |
| What do you wear? | Hiking boots – all other kinds of shoes would be dangerous | Whatever you like – from hiking boots to flip flop |
| How do you get there? | Take the car for, at least, half an hour in order to go from 500 meters to 1000 meters or 1500 meters above sea level. | Take the train for 15 minutes. |
| What do you see? | In the beginning trees, later other mountain ranges, in the end the valley you will return to | A lot of sky and differences in heights of several centimetres between the polders |
| Which landmarks do you recognise? | Mountain tops. The real experts know all their names, of course. | Wind mills |
| What do you hear? | Nature: If you are lucky – and high enough – the skirling of marmots. Culture: The mountain farmer with his tractor. | Nature: Frogs quaking in the polder. Culture: The farmer with his tractor. |
| You might be disturbed by…. | Mountain bikers and in the winter skiers | Cyclists |
| How you know that the end is approaching… | The air is getting warmer. | You see the train station. |
| How does it feel? | In the beginning challenging, you start sweating as you go up. When you reach the top, you are delighted because you achieved something. | You are walking, walking and walking. Nothing limits your sight, no woods or mountain chains. And as your gaze touches upon the horizon you feel free. |
woensdag 26 mei 2010
In the Heart of Dutchness
On this last walk Annemarie took us to the heart of dutchness: the polder. We made a roundabout near Breukelen. As we talked about how to write about bad things and how to relate to them, we passed more than one icon of Dutch landscape engineering.
On our way...
Flat...
Corridor
At this point reflections about the landscape hit upon the issue of Dutch light. This documentary on Dutch Light is highly recommended: Dutch Light.
Obligatory Group Pose
Too much?The next Walking Seminar will be on June 11, 13.50. For more info, please email Anna Mann, A.M.Mann[at]uva.nl