Mittwoch, 7. Mai 2008
Freitag, 18. April 2008
So what am I doing with my life?
So I get this magazine from time to time called Deutschland. When you are a German professor, the publisher just sends it to you. When I thumbed through it the other night I noticed an article on up-and-coming young German authors. At the top of the list was Daniel Kehlmann and his Vermessung der Welt, the guy I am giving a presentation on next fall. But under his picture there was another one from Thomas von Steinaecker. I looked at the picture and thought, wait a minute, I know that guy. Thomas spent a year at the University of Cincinnati getting his master's degree (it took me three years at BYU). The guy even went to church with me once. At first I was surprised that he was a writer, and then I was happy for him that his first book has landed on the German best-seller list. But then I read that he wrote it at the same time he was finishing up his dissertation.
I barely survived writing my dissertation.
Sometimes I wonder how I manage to accomplish so little and what it is that is keeping me from becoming a writer like I have dreamed of doing since I was old enough to read books. So far it has always been and probably will continue to be "one of these days."
I barely survived writing my dissertation.
Sometimes I wonder how I manage to accomplish so little and what it is that is keeping me from becoming a writer like I have dreamed of doing since I was old enough to read books. So far it has always been and probably will continue to be "one of these days."
Freitag, 11. April 2008
How to spend a summer
Starting in about 2 weeks, I will be on summer vacation. Since the Study Abroad thing didn't work out, it will be the first time in about ten years that I have not either moved or taught a class, or both, during the summer. I have been thinking about how I want to spend it. I am afraid it will be all too easy to either A) waste the whole time, or B) set up so many projects that it feels like I never took any time off at all. Here are some of the things I could do with my time.
1. Write my RMMLA paper.
2. Prepare two previous RMMLA papers on Handke for publication.
3. Fly my plane more.
4. Finish repairs to my Mustang and fly it
5. Loose 10-15 pounds.
6. Ride at least 100 miles a week. (See above)
7. Swim twice or three times a week.
8. If I were to do the above two, why not train for a mini-triathalon?
9. Have my head examined for even thinking about a triathalon.
10. Read more books and less internet.
11. Sleep.
12. Prepare a better and more effective study abroad
13. Compose a viable proposal for getting myself to Germany next summer even if Study Abroad bonks out again.
14. Get a summer construction job to pay for a new garage.
15. Re-tile the basement bathroom.
16. Develop a tenure plan and a plan for the growth of the German Program at UVU.
17. Hang out in my sweats and mock my children as they still have to get up early and go to school. (at least through May).
I could do any or all of these but the best plans seldom all come about. If I were to do all of these, I think my summer would be a lot shorter. I do know that I plan on doing that last one though--at least a couple of mornings.
1. Write my RMMLA paper.
2. Prepare two previous RMMLA papers on Handke for publication.
3. Fly my plane more.
4. Finish repairs to my Mustang and fly it
5. Loose 10-15 pounds.
6. Ride at least 100 miles a week. (See above)
7. Swim twice or three times a week.
8. If I were to do the above two, why not train for a mini-triathalon?
9. Have my head examined for even thinking about a triathalon.
10. Read more books and less internet.
11. Sleep.
12. Prepare a better and more effective study abroad
13. Compose a viable proposal for getting myself to Germany next summer even if Study Abroad bonks out again.
14. Get a summer construction job to pay for a new garage.
15. Re-tile the basement bathroom.
16. Develop a tenure plan and a plan for the growth of the German Program at UVU.
17. Hang out in my sweats and mock my children as they still have to get up early and go to school. (at least through May).
I could do any or all of these but the best plans seldom all come about. If I were to do all of these, I think my summer would be a lot shorter. I do know that I plan on doing that last one though--at least a couple of mornings.
Mittwoch, 19. März 2008
Space is really big
Yesterday I passed 11,000 miles on my bicycle since I began keeping track in September of 2002.
I awoke this morning to the news that science-fiction author Arthur C. Clarke died yesterday at his home in Sri Lanka.
These two events are related.
That isn't to say I killed Clarke with my bike or anything like that, but his death this morning got me to thinking about the things I am trying to say in this blog entry. Clarke, of course, is the author of 2001: a Space Odyssey, the Rama series, and many other science fiction novels. Many of you may know that I am a huge space junkie. In my spare time and in my wasted time I like to visit space-related sites such as this one, or check up on the mars rovers here, or see cool space pics here. I am fascinated by space and the possibility of space travel--not in the Star Trek or Star Wars hyperspace sort of way--but in real, pragmatic ways of getting off this rock. I really hope that I live to see astronauts set foot on Mars. This was they kind of stories Arthur C. Clarke told. So I was sad when I heard about Clarke's death. I know he was 90 years old, so his demise is hardly unexpected, but I will miss his style. His books seldom featured complex or compelling characters, but the ideas were fantastic.
One of the things that interests me about space is that it is so big. I have another (dead) sci-fi author to thank for teaching me this: Douglas Adams. He once wrote in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:
"Space is big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the road to the drug store, but that's just peanuts to space. " The profoundness of this statement is obscured even as it is emphasized by the humorous tone in which it is presented. Back to the bike.
I love my bike. It looks like this:
and I have had it since the spring of 2004. When I passed 11,000 miles yesterday, I was rather proud of myself. I know that real bikers travel much much further each year, but I have been averaging about 2000 miles each year commuting to and from the university. My son, always the one to keep my head from getting too big, said with a great deal of enthusiasm, "Dad, I can't wait till you hit a million miles."
Now I have to point out that my 11000 miles puts me nearly half way around the world from where I am now (somewhere in the outback of Australia, I believe), but because space is so incredibly big, I might as well be in my own back yard. So, at my average of 2000 miles a year, it will take me 50 more years to reach 100,000 miles, which is the point at which my bicycle odometer turns over. My wife thinks this is a reasonable goal. To reach my son's goal of 1,000,000 miles, I will have to ride 2000 miles a year for the next 500 years. Now, at its closest, Mars is approximately 34 million miles away. Which means that to get to Mars, our closest neighbor (not counting the moon, which is gravitationally tied to us), it will take me another 17,000 years--at the rate I am currently riding. This assumes that Mars will again be at its closest approach with us at that time.
Just to put things into perspective.
I awoke this morning to the news that science-fiction author Arthur C. Clarke died yesterday at his home in Sri Lanka.
These two events are related.
That isn't to say I killed Clarke with my bike or anything like that, but his death this morning got me to thinking about the things I am trying to say in this blog entry. Clarke, of course, is the author of 2001: a Space Odyssey, the Rama series, and many other science fiction novels. Many of you may know that I am a huge space junkie. In my spare time and in my wasted time I like to visit space-related sites such as this one, or check up on the mars rovers here, or see cool space pics here. I am fascinated by space and the possibility of space travel--not in the Star Trek or Star Wars hyperspace sort of way--but in real, pragmatic ways of getting off this rock. I really hope that I live to see astronauts set foot on Mars. This was they kind of stories Arthur C. Clarke told. So I was sad when I heard about Clarke's death. I know he was 90 years old, so his demise is hardly unexpected, but I will miss his style. His books seldom featured complex or compelling characters, but the ideas were fantastic.
One of the things that interests me about space is that it is so big. I have another (dead) sci-fi author to thank for teaching me this: Douglas Adams. He once wrote in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:
"Space is big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the road to the drug store, but that's just peanuts to space. " The profoundness of this statement is obscured even as it is emphasized by the humorous tone in which it is presented. Back to the bike.
I love my bike. It looks like this:
and I have had it since the spring of 2004. When I passed 11,000 miles yesterday, I was rather proud of myself. I know that real bikers travel much much further each year, but I have been averaging about 2000 miles each year commuting to and from the university. My son, always the one to keep my head from getting too big, said with a great deal of enthusiasm, "Dad, I can't wait till you hit a million miles."
Now I have to point out that my 11000 miles puts me nearly half way around the world from where I am now (somewhere in the outback of Australia, I believe), but because space is so incredibly big, I might as well be in my own back yard. So, at my average of 2000 miles a year, it will take me 50 more years to reach 100,000 miles, which is the point at which my bicycle odometer turns over. My wife thinks this is a reasonable goal. To reach my son's goal of 1,000,000 miles, I will have to ride 2000 miles a year for the next 500 years. Now, at its closest, Mars is approximately 34 million miles away. Which means that to get to Mars, our closest neighbor (not counting the moon, which is gravitationally tied to us), it will take me another 17,000 years--at the rate I am currently riding. This assumes that Mars will again be at its closest approach with us at that time.
Just to put things into perspective.
Montag, 10. März 2008
Progress
Not a lot has been made on papers. But: My RMMLA proposal on Daniel Kehlmann was accepted. Now all I have to do is write it. Good thing I just finished all of the curriculum work on the new integrated studies Program in German. Now I can go back to concentrating on teaching, preparing Study Abroad again for next year, concurrent enrollment coordination with the high schools, internships, and writing a paper or two. Nice to know my plate is that much less full today than it was yesterday.
In other news, it looks like progress is finally being made in my article in Colloquia Germanica. Ted Fiedler replied to my e-mail today and has done some actual editing. Maybe I will see it in print before I am up for tenure.
In other news, it looks like progress is finally being made in my article in Colloquia Germanica. Ted Fiedler replied to my e-mail today and has done some actual editing. Maybe I will see it in print before I am up for tenure.
Dienstag, 19. Februar 2008
still alone, cool video
Looks like I still haven't been found, which makes my corner of the net a nice quiet backwater eddy in the cyberspace sea. Is it possible to be completely anonymous and obscure while posting thoughts for all to see? Blogging seems to me to be an expressly exhibitionist activity. Yet here I am, the proverbial falling tree in the woods that no one hears. Fine with me. I like my peace and quiet.
I found this video the other day. I will link to it since I can't seem to put it right in the entry
Looks like I figured it out after all. We had a brief culture thing in my class about Anne-Sophie Mutter, but I decided not to use it. A few days later I stumbled across this video on YouTube, and decided it was too good not to share with the students. It is a lot less dry than just reading about a musician. and since the music I usually bring into the class looks more like this:
It was a nice change up. I prefer the Culture with a capital "C" to the "c" culture anyway.
I found this video the other day. I will link to it since I can't seem to put it right in the entry
Looks like I figured it out after all. We had a brief culture thing in my class about Anne-Sophie Mutter, but I decided not to use it. A few days later I stumbled across this video on YouTube, and decided it was too good not to share with the students. It is a lot less dry than just reading about a musician. and since the music I usually bring into the class looks more like this:
It was a nice change up. I prefer the Culture with a capital "C" to the "c" culture anyway.
Mittwoch, 13. Februar 2008
a new paper proposal
I want all of my readers out there to comment on the idea I am working on for a new conference proposal. I recently read a book by Daniel Kehlmann called Die Vermessung der Welt. It is a novel about the natural scientist/ explorer Alexander von Humboldt and Mathematician Carl Friedrich Gauß. The book takes a somewhat satirical or humorous look at the lives of these two Gentlemen, and the ways in which their lives intersect.
Compared to many works of German literature, Die Vermessung der Welt is refreshingly open and positive, while it avoids being frivolous or "fluffy." In other words, I think it is successful in appealing to a wide audience--i.e. casual readers as well as those who are more literary minded. This is unusual in the bulk of what is considered literature in Germany. Much of the high modern and post-modern and hermeneutic works still have a great deal to offer if you are interested in philosophy, literary theory, politics or other specialized topics, but it isn't what I would call entertaining. (Recent nobel winner Elfride Jelinek being an exeption--her work has neither entertainment nor intellectual value for me.) Peter Handke, for example, is not very entertaining, even though I find his works both challenging and stimulating intellectually.
Mind you, I think the best stuff is able to transcend the typical German stodginess. Today I introduced my class to a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe entitled Grenzen der Menschheit:
Wenn der uralte
Heilige Vater
Mit gelassener Hand
Aus rollenden Wolken
Segnende Blitze
Über die Erde sät.
Küss´ich den letzten
Saum seines Kleides,
Kindliche Schauer
Treu in der Brust.
Denn mit Göttern
Soll sich nicht messen
Irgend ein Mensch.
Hebt er sich aufwärts
Und berührt
Mit dem Scheitel die Sterne,
Nirgends haften dann
Die unsichern Sohlen,
Und mit ihm spielen
Wolken und Winde.
Steht er mit festen,
Markigen Knochen
Auf der wohlgegründeten
Dauernden Erde,
Reicht er nicht auf,
Nur mit der Eiche
Oder der Rebe
Sich zu vergleichen.
Was unterscheidet
Götter von Menschen?
Daß viele Wellen
Vor jenen wandeln, ein ewiger Strom:
Uns hebt die Welle,
Verschlingt die Welle,
Und wir versinken.
Ein kleiner Ring
Begrenzt unser Leben,
Und viele Geschlechter
Reihen sie dauernd
An ihres Daseins
Unendliche Kette.
And now the translation, since I can't manage to print them both in two columns:
The Limits of Humanity
When the age-old
Holy Father
With a tranquil hand
Sows blessed lightning
Over the Earth
From rolling clouds.
I kiss the last
Hem of his gown,
A child-like thrill
Staunch in the breast.
For with the gods
Should not be measured
Any man.
If he lifts himself upwards
and touches
The stars with his head,
Then nowhere hold fast
his uncertain soles,
And with him play
Clouds and wind.
If he stands with firm
Marrowed bones
On the well-grounded
Abiding Earth,
It is enough to compare
himself only
with the oak
or the vine.
What distinguishes
The gods from man?
That the countless waves
Continue before Them, an eternal stream:
Us the waves lift,
They swallow us,
And we sink away.
An insignificant ring
Delimits our life,
And many generations
Link continually
To the existence of its
Unending chain.
Maybe not a very good translation, but I think fairly accurate. I really like this poem. It is very humanistic and beautifully captures the relationship between the mortal and the immortal without really devaluing either of them. We mortals have our own version of eternity in which we participate every day. It is just that we have a different perspective than the gods, and we should appreciate where we are at the present time. I do not think this poem contradicts what I believe as a latter-day saint--that I have a potential for eternal progression and may one day participate in godhood. The unending chain reminds me very much of our concept of eternal families bound one to the other throughout the ages. This realization allows me, like the poet to wonder at the greatness of God's creation, even though I don't comprehend even a fraction of it.
But I have gotten off track. My interest in the moment is Kehlmann's novel. Perhaps not completely off track, however. Denn mit Göttern /Soll sich nicht messen/ Irgend ein Mensch reverberates not only in the Vermessung of the title of Kehlmann's novel, but throughout the text as well. Kehlmann describes a time when greatness walked the earth. Looking back it seems impossible to turn around in Germany at the end of the 18th century without running into one genius or the other: Goethe, Schiller, Kant, Gauß, von Humboldt, and others were making discoveries and expressing ideas that still affect us today. It was a time when it was still thought possible to know all there was to know, to be truly and comprehensively educated. Theirs was a time of the pioneering discoveries, we are left with the mere task of filling in the minor details.
The irony is, of course, that we are expanding humanities knowledge at a pace beyond the comprehension of the explorers and thinkers of the 18th century. The further irony is that today's discoveries would not be possible if we were not standing on the shoulders of the accomplishments of the earlier generations (another link in Goethe's chain, perhaps?). The third irony is (also of course,) that Kehlmann's description of Germany's golden age and his representative heroes is a work of fiction. It gives the impression of historical veracity while flagrantly inventing and reinventing characters and events to suit the needs of the story. Daniel Kehlmann is aware of and exploits all of these ironies in his book. He readily admits sacrificing reality for the sake of his definition of truth. It is clear that the author is aware of the irony as he invites the reader in numerous literary winks to join him in the joke.
My interest in this book centers ongoing interest in Germany in the classic period and with the apparent fascination with the cult of the genius. Obviously, the end of the 18th century and the beginning of the 19th century marks the German Blütezeit, its golden age, and it is natural that The Germans as a people would look to that time with a certain degree of nostalgia. What Die Vermessung der Welt reveals, I think, is that the modern desire to connect to this era, which appears from our perspective to be a time of giants, runs deeper than one might have expected.
In my paper, I explore the manner in which Daniel Kehlmann describes Germany's golden age and the cult of genius. I also trace the German fascination with greatness through Nietzsche, Mann and others up to the present as I examine how Kehlmann taps into the modern reader's desire to link one's self to past greatness and the irony involved in the process of doing so.
Compared to many works of German literature, Die Vermessung der Welt is refreshingly open and positive, while it avoids being frivolous or "fluffy." In other words, I think it is successful in appealing to a wide audience--i.e. casual readers as well as those who are more literary minded. This is unusual in the bulk of what is considered literature in Germany. Much of the high modern and post-modern and hermeneutic works still have a great deal to offer if you are interested in philosophy, literary theory, politics or other specialized topics, but it isn't what I would call entertaining. (Recent nobel winner Elfride Jelinek being an exeption--her work has neither entertainment nor intellectual value for me.) Peter Handke, for example, is not very entertaining, even though I find his works both challenging and stimulating intellectually.
Mind you, I think the best stuff is able to transcend the typical German stodginess. Today I introduced my class to a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe entitled Grenzen der Menschheit:
Wenn der uralte
Heilige Vater
Mit gelassener Hand
Aus rollenden Wolken
Segnende Blitze
Über die Erde sät.
Küss´ich den letzten
Saum seines Kleides,
Kindliche Schauer
Treu in der Brust.
Denn mit Göttern
Soll sich nicht messen
Irgend ein Mensch.
Hebt er sich aufwärts
Und berührt
Mit dem Scheitel die Sterne,
Nirgends haften dann
Die unsichern Sohlen,
Und mit ihm spielen
Wolken und Winde.
Steht er mit festen,
Markigen Knochen
Auf der wohlgegründeten
Dauernden Erde,
Reicht er nicht auf,
Nur mit der Eiche
Oder der Rebe
Sich zu vergleichen.
Was unterscheidet
Götter von Menschen?
Daß viele Wellen
Vor jenen wandeln, ein ewiger Strom:
Uns hebt die Welle,
Verschlingt die Welle,
Und wir versinken.
Ein kleiner Ring
Begrenzt unser Leben,
Und viele Geschlechter
Reihen sie dauernd
An ihres Daseins
Unendliche Kette.
And now the translation, since I can't manage to print them both in two columns:
The Limits of Humanity
When the age-old
Holy Father
With a tranquil hand
Sows blessed lightning
Over the Earth
From rolling clouds.
I kiss the last
Hem of his gown,
A child-like thrill
Staunch in the breast.
For with the gods
Should not be measured
Any man.
If he lifts himself upwards
and touches
The stars with his head,
Then nowhere hold fast
his uncertain soles,
And with him play
Clouds and wind.
If he stands with firm
Marrowed bones
On the well-grounded
Abiding Earth,
It is enough to compare
himself only
with the oak
or the vine.
What distinguishes
The gods from man?
That the countless waves
Continue before Them, an eternal stream:
Us the waves lift,
They swallow us,
And we sink away.
An insignificant ring
Delimits our life,
And many generations
Link continually
To the existence of its
Unending chain.
Maybe not a very good translation, but I think fairly accurate. I really like this poem. It is very humanistic and beautifully captures the relationship between the mortal and the immortal without really devaluing either of them. We mortals have our own version of eternity in which we participate every day. It is just that we have a different perspective than the gods, and we should appreciate where we are at the present time. I do not think this poem contradicts what I believe as a latter-day saint--that I have a potential for eternal progression and may one day participate in godhood. The unending chain reminds me very much of our concept of eternal families bound one to the other throughout the ages. This realization allows me, like the poet to wonder at the greatness of God's creation, even though I don't comprehend even a fraction of it.
But I have gotten off track. My interest in the moment is Kehlmann's novel. Perhaps not completely off track, however. Denn mit Göttern /Soll sich nicht messen/ Irgend ein Mensch reverberates not only in the Vermessung of the title of Kehlmann's novel, but throughout the text as well. Kehlmann describes a time when greatness walked the earth. Looking back it seems impossible to turn around in Germany at the end of the 18th century without running into one genius or the other: Goethe, Schiller, Kant, Gauß, von Humboldt, and others were making discoveries and expressing ideas that still affect us today. It was a time when it was still thought possible to know all there was to know, to be truly and comprehensively educated. Theirs was a time of the pioneering discoveries, we are left with the mere task of filling in the minor details.
The irony is, of course, that we are expanding humanities knowledge at a pace beyond the comprehension of the explorers and thinkers of the 18th century. The further irony is that today's discoveries would not be possible if we were not standing on the shoulders of the accomplishments of the earlier generations (another link in Goethe's chain, perhaps?). The third irony is (also of course,) that Kehlmann's description of Germany's golden age and his representative heroes is a work of fiction. It gives the impression of historical veracity while flagrantly inventing and reinventing characters and events to suit the needs of the story. Daniel Kehlmann is aware of and exploits all of these ironies in his book. He readily admits sacrificing reality for the sake of his definition of truth. It is clear that the author is aware of the irony as he invites the reader in numerous literary winks to join him in the joke.
My interest in this book centers ongoing interest in Germany in the classic period and with the apparent fascination with the cult of the genius. Obviously, the end of the 18th century and the beginning of the 19th century marks the German Blütezeit, its golden age, and it is natural that The Germans as a people would look to that time with a certain degree of nostalgia. What Die Vermessung der Welt reveals, I think, is that the modern desire to connect to this era, which appears from our perspective to be a time of giants, runs deeper than one might have expected.
In my paper, I explore the manner in which Daniel Kehlmann describes Germany's golden age and the cult of genius. I also trace the German fascination with greatness through Nietzsche, Mann and others up to the present as I examine how Kehlmann taps into the modern reader's desire to link one's self to past greatness and the irony involved in the process of doing so.
Montag, 11. Februar 2008
Is anybody out there?
I am starting this blog in part to see how long it is until anyone I know happens onto it. I have a number of friends, including my wife, who blog regularly and who have a sort of informal network going. I don't intend on posing regularly, but that may change. This space may provide an opportunity for me to improve my writing skills, work out some goals I have in writing, and provide a space to clarify my thoughts. I do not plan on putting too much identifying information on this blog, but I am sure from time to time things will slip.
as an explanation for why the blog is in German--like my title suggests, I teach German. A few days ago I tried adding a plug-in to Firefox while viewing a german site and ended up downloading the entire German version of firefox. Since I understand it just fine, I don't see any reason to change. It may be that if you are viewing this blog from an english language browser, everything appears in English. I can't tell. If you don't like it, tough. It's not your blog.
as an explanation for why the blog is in German--like my title suggests, I teach German. A few days ago I tried adding a plug-in to Firefox while viewing a german site and ended up downloading the entire German version of firefox. Since I understand it just fine, I don't see any reason to change. It may be that if you are viewing this blog from an english language browser, everything appears in English. I can't tell. If you don't like it, tough. It's not your blog.
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