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highlyeccentricI have been reading various blogs by proffessional and student medievalists, and now i feel inspired to make some sort of blog record of my academic journey...
Egotism makes me a medievalist. No, really. Two facts about me: I don't do something if I'm not good at it- at least not if i can help it. I am still driving the car, but necessity has forced me to maintain some sort of competence there, i don't particularly like it. Secondly, I don't like working with, or particularly under, people unless they appreciate me and praise me. Often, if possible. These are probably extrovert traits and certainly egocentric. But that's the way it goes, with me.
I applied to The University of Sydney for a whole range of reasons- one was the fact that they offer Medieval Studies; another was Fisher Library and its Rare Book Collection; when I filled in my enrollment survey I told them i came for the archictecture. Really, what it came down to was snob value. I could get into USyd and therefore i wasn't about to settle for any less.
Despite my interest in medieval history, when i enrolled in first year I wasn't intending to major in Medeival Studies, or even History. I had sunstroke the day I enrolled, which I'm sure can't have helped my powers of logic, but i enrolled in English, Arabic, Arabic and Islamic Studies, and as a fun unit before i settled down to the serious business of becoming a useful person (an English graduate with a major in ARIS being what I deemed useful at the time), I enrolled in John Pryor's first year history course, Europe in the High Middle Ages.
I got to uni and went to buy my textbooks, and belatedly realised Arabic has an entirely different alphabet. Here, i realised, was something I wasn't going to be naturally good at. See Fact 1 about me. I switched to French, something I knew I could blitz, at least for the first year. And blitz it I did, and note that as long as it was a cakewalk I loved it, and as soon as i had to do any work I discovered an intense dislike for the blasted language. ARIS, the culture course, was fun and I was good at it. I like Shboul, he's a lovely lecturer and his courses were great fun. But one has to learn Arabic to major in that, so it got scratched off my life plan. English, I realised, was a total wank and always would be. The courses were big, and although I was good at them I wasn't excellent at them. And they weren't particularly challenging, either.
JP's course was big. 250 of us, I believe. It was fun- you turned up for two hours on a tuesday and he told you stories. I was immensely impressed with him- he taught every one of the eight tutorial groups himself, and he still managed to remember names. The course wasn't high pressure- I don't believe I actually did all of the readings for a single week- but the assignments were interesting and they allowed you to specialise and actually think. What an amazing change from high school! None of this was really what drew me over to Medieval Studies. No, it was the fact that JP seemed to go personally out of his way for me. I couldn't figure out the website to download the courseguide, so he gave me his personal copy. I didn't do all the readings but I did have a quick look, I talked in class and I asked questions. This was the year he decided no one needed to do tutorial presentations, and that was a bad move. Only three of us in the tute ever said anything! April did all the readings but she was so painfully shy it took all semester to get her to say anything. So John very fond of those of us who did speak up! He told me I was fantastic every few weeks. Thus, when he singled out a handful of us and began suggesting we take Medieval Studies with a view to doing Honours with him, I was tickled pink. "I can cross list any course you want", he said, and "come and do Honours in Medieval Studies". Aha, thinks I, a small course, a subject I'm growing to love, a lecturer who thinks I'm fantastic. What more could I ask?
By the time the History, French, English and ARIS departments sent out their routine "study honours with us, enrol in our prerequisite courses" emails and letters to all students with credit averages and above, I was already willing to sign my life away to the Centre for Medieval Studies- people with no prerequisite prehonours course, people willing to crosslist Worlds of Fantasy (which funnily enough I've never ended up taking), a little corner of the uni without hordes of competitors (I hadn't met Jenny Green at that stage), and a lecturer who apparently really wanted me to study his subject. Who cares if he really wanted anyone to study his subject? It made me feel special.
In my second year, I took Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic Studies, and The Celtic World. I picked Anlgo-Saxon as my language for two reasons- one, because the others looked too hard (see Fact 1) and two, because I didn't really know what it was and thought I was getting Middle English and King Arthur. But AS turned out to be fun. And I was good at it. It helped, I'm sure, that Melanie is helpful, encouraging and attentive as a tutor. But I like to think that I love the subject for its own sake, too. Celtic World, meanwhile, was my first 3000 level course and I was expecting to have to fight to keep my head above water. I found a topic that fascinated me- Celtic influence on the Anglo-Saxon Church- and dug in. I started that course as a wannabe Celticist and Arthurian, and ended it enamoured with an Anglo-Saxon bishop. My love of church history wasn't new- in first year I had a crush on Innocent III- and over in ASNC I had developed a thing for hagiography. Melanie and Margaret Clunies Ross allowed me to go nuts and pick my own essay topic- although Mel did keep harrying me to define my question better, or at all. I came out of Celtic World with a gleeful HD; and ASNC with a brilliant langauge exam score, but a probably-deserved middling essay mark and (what I've now realised are) typical Melanie constructive but depressing comments thereon.
Second semester passed without anything life-changing. I fell in with a social group among my fellow Medieval Studies students. It really is fantastic, knowing people who are as obsessive as you are. Having people to share or at least understand your excitement over some obscure historical fact. People who get you drunk in class are also a bonus. And it's good for me to get out of my college & UCATSA circles.
I trotted off to Anglo-Saxon this semester with mixed emotions. One the one hand, I'm good at the language. On the other, while her tough marking had only shored up my respect for Melanie, the ego dent had also dented my enthusiasm. Ten hours a week of translation didn't do much to improve things- suddenly no amount of natural talent was making this easy. Yet for some reason, and determination to avoid another depressing essay comment experience was probably a big factor, I pulled up my socks and put my head down and bum up and would not turn up to Melanie's class without my set work done- aside from the one week when I translated random slabs of Genesis A instead of AElfric's sermon. I improved in leaps and bounds, which was exciting. There have been many things I've worked on in my life, but until now, driving a car and riding a bicycle were the only things I had to work to be good at. I was thrilled to my little bootses when Melanie told me she sees "flashes of brilliance" in my work. Flashes! And somehow that seems better commendation than any HD I have ever recieved.
The comments on my final essay for Anglo-Saxon were still depressing. But at least this time I read them right through. The day I picked it up, I had dropped a thank you card into Melanie's office, saying how fantastic her classes are and that it's all her fault I've turned into a wannabe Anglo-Saxonist. I was sitting in the open space in the middle of Woolley going over my essay when she walked out. She looked at me, raised one eyebrow, and said "still think my classes are fantastic?" And I was able to grin and point out that I'd fared four whole marks better than last time I gave her a final essay.
Egotism makes me a Medievalist; love of it makes me an Anglo-Saxonist; and sheer stubbon pride shall, if I have any say in it, make me a good one!
I applied to The University of Sydney for a whole range of reasons- one was the fact that they offer Medieval Studies; another was Fisher Library and its Rare Book Collection; when I filled in my enrollment survey I told them i came for the archictecture. Really, what it came down to was snob value. I could get into USyd and therefore i wasn't about to settle for any less.
Despite my interest in medieval history, when i enrolled in first year I wasn't intending to major in Medeival Studies, or even History. I had sunstroke the day I enrolled, which I'm sure can't have helped my powers of logic, but i enrolled in English, Arabic, Arabic and Islamic Studies, and as a fun unit before i settled down to the serious business of becoming a useful person (an English graduate with a major in ARIS being what I deemed useful at the time), I enrolled in John Pryor's first year history course, Europe in the High Middle Ages.
I got to uni and went to buy my textbooks, and belatedly realised Arabic has an entirely different alphabet. Here, i realised, was something I wasn't going to be naturally good at. See Fact 1 about me. I switched to French, something I knew I could blitz, at least for the first year. And blitz it I did, and note that as long as it was a cakewalk I loved it, and as soon as i had to do any work I discovered an intense dislike for the blasted language. ARIS, the culture course, was fun and I was good at it. I like Shboul, he's a lovely lecturer and his courses were great fun. But one has to learn Arabic to major in that, so it got scratched off my life plan. English, I realised, was a total wank and always would be. The courses were big, and although I was good at them I wasn't excellent at them. And they weren't particularly challenging, either.
JP's course was big. 250 of us, I believe. It was fun- you turned up for two hours on a tuesday and he told you stories. I was immensely impressed with him- he taught every one of the eight tutorial groups himself, and he still managed to remember names. The course wasn't high pressure- I don't believe I actually did all of the readings for a single week- but the assignments were interesting and they allowed you to specialise and actually think. What an amazing change from high school! None of this was really what drew me over to Medieval Studies. No, it was the fact that JP seemed to go personally out of his way for me. I couldn't figure out the website to download the courseguide, so he gave me his personal copy. I didn't do all the readings but I did have a quick look, I talked in class and I asked questions. This was the year he decided no one needed to do tutorial presentations, and that was a bad move. Only three of us in the tute ever said anything! April did all the readings but she was so painfully shy it took all semester to get her to say anything. So John very fond of those of us who did speak up! He told me I was fantastic every few weeks. Thus, when he singled out a handful of us and began suggesting we take Medieval Studies with a view to doing Honours with him, I was tickled pink. "I can cross list any course you want", he said, and "come and do Honours in Medieval Studies". Aha, thinks I, a small course, a subject I'm growing to love, a lecturer who thinks I'm fantastic. What more could I ask?
By the time the History, French, English and ARIS departments sent out their routine "study honours with us, enrol in our prerequisite courses" emails and letters to all students with credit averages and above, I was already willing to sign my life away to the Centre for Medieval Studies- people with no prerequisite prehonours course, people willing to crosslist Worlds of Fantasy (which funnily enough I've never ended up taking), a little corner of the uni without hordes of competitors (I hadn't met Jenny Green at that stage), and a lecturer who apparently really wanted me to study his subject. Who cares if he really wanted anyone to study his subject? It made me feel special.
In my second year, I took Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic Studies, and The Celtic World. I picked Anlgo-Saxon as my language for two reasons- one, because the others looked too hard (see Fact 1) and two, because I didn't really know what it was and thought I was getting Middle English and King Arthur. But AS turned out to be fun. And I was good at it. It helped, I'm sure, that Melanie is helpful, encouraging and attentive as a tutor. But I like to think that I love the subject for its own sake, too. Celtic World, meanwhile, was my first 3000 level course and I was expecting to have to fight to keep my head above water. I found a topic that fascinated me- Celtic influence on the Anglo-Saxon Church- and dug in. I started that course as a wannabe Celticist and Arthurian, and ended it enamoured with an Anglo-Saxon bishop. My love of church history wasn't new- in first year I had a crush on Innocent III- and over in ASNC I had developed a thing for hagiography. Melanie and Margaret Clunies Ross allowed me to go nuts and pick my own essay topic- although Mel did keep harrying me to define my question better, or at all. I came out of Celtic World with a gleeful HD; and ASNC with a brilliant langauge exam score, but a probably-deserved middling essay mark and (what I've now realised are) typical Melanie constructive but depressing comments thereon.
Second semester passed without anything life-changing. I fell in with a social group among my fellow Medieval Studies students. It really is fantastic, knowing people who are as obsessive as you are. Having people to share or at least understand your excitement over some obscure historical fact. People who get you drunk in class are also a bonus. And it's good for me to get out of my college & UCATSA circles.
I trotted off to Anglo-Saxon this semester with mixed emotions. One the one hand, I'm good at the language. On the other, while her tough marking had only shored up my respect for Melanie, the ego dent had also dented my enthusiasm. Ten hours a week of translation didn't do much to improve things- suddenly no amount of natural talent was making this easy. Yet for some reason, and determination to avoid another depressing essay comment experience was probably a big factor, I pulled up my socks and put my head down and bum up and would not turn up to Melanie's class without my set work done- aside from the one week when I translated random slabs of Genesis A instead of AElfric's sermon. I improved in leaps and bounds, which was exciting. There have been many things I've worked on in my life, but until now, driving a car and riding a bicycle were the only things I had to work to be good at. I was thrilled to my little bootses when Melanie told me she sees "flashes of brilliance" in my work. Flashes! And somehow that seems better commendation than any HD I have ever recieved.
The comments on my final essay for Anglo-Saxon were still depressing. But at least this time I read them right through. The day I picked it up, I had dropped a thank you card into Melanie's office, saying how fantastic her classes are and that it's all her fault I've turned into a wannabe Anglo-Saxonist. I was sitting in the open space in the middle of Woolley going over my essay when she walked out. She looked at me, raised one eyebrow, and said "still think my classes are fantastic?" And I was able to grin and point out that I'd fared four whole marks better than last time I gave her a final essay.
Egotism makes me a Medievalist; love of it makes me an Anglo-Saxonist; and sheer stubbon pride shall, if I have any say in it, make me a good one!
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Date: 2007-07-20 01:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-20 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-20 02:02 am (UTC)