Category: Education

Reasons I Library, or the Book and Living (pt. 2)

On By NW FilbertIn Books, Education, Reading, Writing3 Comments
image retrieved from: https://www.abebooks.com/books/decorating-with-books-art-of-decorative-books

This continues readings from Robert Bringhurst’s beautiful WHAT IS READING FOR? begun in previous post.

Bringhurst runnels his way through various carriers and purposes of diverse sorts of publications and materials across history – from the more disposable to the mostly artifactual and permanent – reasons why they are preserved, and types of reading they promote and engender… from here he enters the new and ephemeral format called the “electronic book” that our culture currently and earnestly proffers us…

“The digital book is a rotation, not a revolution. It is another turn of a wheel that is turning all the time. It’s a newfangled toy and may be some fun, but it is also just the latest stage in the continuing degradation of the outward from of the book. The most perishable, and most visually disappointing, form of text yet invented is text on a screen. It’s the perfect medium for a society that believes, in its heart of hearts, in the basic futility and irrelevance of what it finds to say [italics mine]. And plenty of what we say does fit that paradigm. But because the electronic book exists, it will also get used, like the early scripts of the Neolithic accountants, for statements of lasting value. Real reading and writing take place on the margins of empires. That’s just how it is. You read the books, if you want to read them, however you can [italics added]. And we do.

“…real writing involves a lot of revision. Real reading involves a lot of re-reading, in just the same way. The text also needs to be free of distractions…discontinuous reading has a long history…That’s how we’ve always read dictionaries, atlases, recipe books, and other works of reference. It’s how we read discontinuous matter, of which there is plenty. Reading with a capital R is something else: an attempt to live up to the world in which we live, and to those ever-renewing models of the world known as books – with, if you like, a capital B [italics mine]. That kind of reading involves taking the plunge. It involves immersion – not for an hour…but for days, for weeks, and in some sense for life.

[Bringhurst now discusses beneficial aspects of coded, electronically transmittable formats of writing/s, particularly for learning and scholarship]

“Running searches for this project made me conscious of two things. First, what it was doing was not reading; it was simply light housekeeping, aimed at making my own and other people’s future reading easier, more thorough, and more comfortable. Second, what enabled me to do what I was doing was the labor of other literary housekeepers extending over more than twenty centuries, fundamentally unfazed by a good many changes in tools, techniques, and materials [the librarians, title so or not, italics mine]…from scripts to manuscript to print to electronic database, papyrus to paper to screen, the sweeping and dusting and laundering have continued as they must.

“All this housekeeping aims at a single thing: allowing reading to continue. Why? For the same reason we walk, talk, and make love. Because that’s how the species transmits itself from yesterday to tomorrow.

“It will, I guess, be clear that one of the things I think reading is not for is taking complete managerial control of the verbal environment, or of any body of text within it. Where literature is involved, that is not even what writing is for. Outside the dreary realm of purely utilitarian language, reading and writing are both ways of getting involved in, not taking control of, the great ecological fact of the matter, otherwise known as What there is to pay attention to, mirrored for us in What there is to say.

“Clearly, people take pleasure in having control, or the illusion of control. But the freedom to skip around whole continents of text like a Martian in a flying saucer, scooping up sentences here and there, is pretty much wasted on genuine readers, because those are the people who know that reading is mostly for making discoveries, learning how and what things are – and who know that to do much of that, a flying saucer is not what you need. You have to walk through the text, and for that you need good eyes, good feet, and lots of time.

“So what’s in the future? To be honest, probably starting all over from scratch, with a small and impoverished population in a badly wounded environment, recreating oral culture bit by bit, and possibly working back up to some kind of writing. But in the meantime? In the short term, it’s quite easy to say what we need for digital books to succeed for real reading.

[Here he provides 5 propositions with descriptions: 1. Free from the grid… 2. a non-radiant display… 3. high resolution… 4. good letterforms… 5. as few bells and whistles as possible]

“In other words, it would be a fine idea if the digital book functioned a lot like earlier books. But how it works matters less than how we treat it. If, to us, it is nothing but a commodity, that will mean we have forgotten how to read, and no book then will help us.”

I am hoping it is evident to see why the practice of preserving actual oral, written, and material forms of culture and our stories and languages we wish to preserve – the work of transcribers, translators, interpreters, writers, printers, craftspersons and artisans – actual things we can pass along at will, preserve ourselves (not dependent on corporate servers, access rights, power companies, or any technologies we ourselves cannot build/rebuild) i.e. – the traditional public library, religious libraries, archives, special collections, museums, and living human transmission and communication – matters so much to me. If you are librarians, or keepers of books, and realize the costs of not controlling access and availability of what they offer to any in our communities who wish to participate in via reading – please fight for the preservation of semipermanent materials.

For more on the ecology of language and material transmission (and to hear the wonder of Robert Bringhurst’s knowledge and communication and thinking) please see also: What is language for?

Thank you for your time and carrying the flames of these passions (if you share them). Much of my grief and ache comes from witnessing the “weeding,” “de-accessioning,” “optimizing,” (all synonyms for destroying in my case) many unreplaceable government documents, “compactly shelved” historical publications, and other very beautiful and impressively produced human artifacts that I still believe would have been welcome and desired by humans to preserve throughout the world.

photo Wendel Johnson_https://fox11online.com/news/local/northwoods/residents-outraged-over-dumpster-filled-with-library-books-at-marinettes-uwgb-campus

See also: The Most Amazing Books People Found in a Dumpster …

I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library

– Jorge Luis Borges

Reasons I choose librarianship, or the Book and Education (pt. 1)

On By NW FilbertIn Books, Education, Reading, Writing4 Comments

the knowledge of most worth, whatever it may be, is not something one has: it is something one is… The end of criticism and teaching, in any case, is not an aesthetic but an ethical and participating end: for it, ultimately, works of literature are not things to be contemplated but powers to be absorbed.

Northrop Frye, The Stubborn Structure

As the Fall semester begins, with all its anticipation, energy, trepidation, and more… so many cultural and technological changes and experimentations upon humans and their learning, directing, and doings… I find more and more that we may be entering a kind of “dark ages” for reading and writing – a time when few, specialized alchemical, spiritual, learned enclaves (monasteries mostly) preserved the materiality of human learning and culture for hundreds and hundreds of years… that otherwise would have vanished to our access.

Following are some sections of Robert Bringhurst’s wonderful small beautiful printing of an incredible talk delivered orally – “What is Reading for?” – which I fervently recommend you borrow or find for the whole river of its beautiful pathway of winding deep riches and reflection. https://scottboms.com/library/what-is-reading-for

Now some samples from Bringhurst…

“In the narrow sense, as we all know, writing and reading refer to something done only by highly organized, agricultural, and management-oriented groups of human beings: making and deciphering visible signs for this normally invisible and almost intangible but nevertheless exceedingly dangerous stuff called human language. After that kind of reading and writing gets going, it’s borrowed by people who aren’t so management-oriented: oddballs like me, who want to use it to give stories and poems and ideas and musical compositions an independent, semipermanent material existence: to let them speak for themselves, like paintings and statues.

“That kind of reading and writing is usually called artificial. It only exists where highly organized groups of humans go to a lot of expense and trouble to sustain it. But some of the things that are done with it, and some of the things it is used for, are not artificial at all. Margaret Atwood, you might remember, spoke about that crucial shift, from the writing of quartermasters and clerks, wanting to keep control of what they possess, to the writing of thinkers and listeners, wanting to keep in touch with what they’ve heard. Both kinds of writing are, of course, still with us, but it is the latter kind of writing that we associate with writers, and so with readers too…

“…If it sounds like writing loves rivers [he’s just spoken of the earliest traces we have of places we have evidence of inventions of writing, all which occurred along rivers], that’s because writing loves agriculture, and that’s because writing is, itself, an advanced form of linguistic agriculture. “Writing is planting,” it says in a poem I remember from somewhere – and reading is harvesting. Harvest time, you’ll remember used to be a time of celebration, but harvesting was work. There are actually places where humans still do it themselves, and where they remember that it leads, in turn, to more work – threshing and milling, peeling an cooking, pitting and drying – and then to still more celebration. In industrial societies, all of these crucial activities are now mechanized. I have a strong hunch that the urge to digitize books and distribute them over the internet to reading machines grows out of a similar dream: a desire to build machines that will write and edit and print and read the books for us, so we can go upstairs and watch our screens…

[here he spends a few sections tracing the evolution of the materiality of oral language to script and then to printing – to scribal cultures to typography – to preservation and dissemination methods and technologies, concluding with]: “You see what I’m getting at. Reading could have a rich and interesting future, because it does have a rich and interesting past. But if no one remembers that past, it may not mean much to the future…What I think is that a great work of literature deserves fine typography and printing, just as a great theatrical script or a great piece of music deserves a great performance. The idea, of course, is that these things can add up – and ought to add up, at least once in awhile, as a form of celebration. If reading good books is physically pleasant, people just might spend more time reading those kinds of books, and might want their friends and neighbors and children to do the same. And reading good books just might make some of them into wiser, healthier people. That, as I recall, is how education is supposed to work. It’s not necessarily supposed to raise the GNP or make everybody rich, but to make every life more likely to be a life worth living, whatever life it is…with a reasonable degree of intellectual and spiritual independence…”

[more soon to follow…]

Seasons

On By NW FilbertIn Aging, Books, change, Critical Thought, Current Reading, Education, European Graduate School, Hermit, Knowledge, Library, Literature, Reading, research, Writing1 Comment

What’s happening now…and why I’m not writing much – reading, teaching, librarying, parenting…

Luciano Floridi – on the Art of Reading

On By NW FilbertIn Books, culture, Education, Literary References, Literature, Reading, Writing4 Comments

I dig this!  Find document here

Floridi_The_Art_of_Reading

Report: Beginning from the Endless End: A Community of Thinking: The Experience of the European Graduate School

On By NW FilbertIn absence, Aging, being, Complexity, Current Reading, Education, European Graduate School, Experience, fragments, Journaling, Loss, Maurice Blanchot, Melancholy, Philosophy, Samuel Beckett, Writing5 Comments

Apply Now: Begin your MA/PhD this Summer 2016 in Saas-Fee, Switzerland

Report: Beginning from the Endless End: A Community of Thinking: The Experience of the European Graduate School

“the center of thought is that which does not let itself be thought”

– Maurice Blanchot

Perhaps a community. 

A community “risking a fragile resilience” (Philip Beesley).

“Distinguishing the indistinguishable.”  “Compatible Incompatibilities.”  “The Origin is Empty.”  “The path to truth is truth itself.”  “More than 1, less than 2.”  We are always with without. 

I feel rich, calm, a sense of belonging.  And loss.  In my second year of a PhD program at the European Graduate School, nestled far and away in the Swiss Alps, in the canton of Saas-Fee.  It is June, it is chilly, high, quiet, separate.  Far from the searing plains of Kansas.  Far from my employment, my partner, my children.  Far from domestic duties and sustaining (endless) chores.  Removed, set apart, drawn up to the mountains, the rivers, the snow.  Another language, an other culture, a situation of difference.

Mladen Dolar, following many great others, tells us we must “slow our temporality.”  That we can “only do philosophy if we pretend to have all the time in the world.”  How could this be done within the everyday?

It feels monastic almost.  30-40 humans from all over the world gathered to hear, speak, inquire and reflect.  Many silences.  All impassioned by the above – the difficult work, accidental work, error-filled work of “distinguishing the indistinguishable” finding “compatible incompatibilities,” facing the “empty origins,” and setting onto the path that has no end, in the risk of a “bad infinity” – of selecting or creating or imagining impossible tasks and eternally postponing them, finding no conclusions, resolutions, foundations – everything put into question, everything problematized, intervened – “the truth is mediation, a passage.”  The happening, the process, of thinking.  So we believe.  And so we gather.  With eminent leaders, guides, mentors (for example, this session: Slavoj Zizek, Helene Cixous, Philip Beesley, Christopher Fynsk, Mladen Dolar, Jean-Luc Nancy, Keller Easterling, Chris Kraus, Alenka Zupancic, Benjamin Bratton, Werner Hamacher, Anne Carson…and more…).  We hear from them, we question, we think with them, think FOR other thought drawn toward us (Hegel, Aristotle, Plato, Heidegger, Foucault, Lacan, Freud, Deleuze, Blanchot, Spinoza, Holderlin, Goya, Beckett, and on…).  What lives, what continues in our seemingly endless end.  What might in-form and unsettle us, what might disturb and enliven us, how we might change-in-relation, again and again and again…

To “take all the time in the world” for 30 days.  To read closely.  To be overwhelmed.  To exhaust.  To end again and again, to fail in hopes to fail better.  To “start in a bad way, in order to arrive in the good.”  The process and problems.  Our “selves” in becoming, the one and the two and the many – always with lack.  Negativity, absence.  “Nothing is identical to itself.”  The “greatest order and disorder exist as one.”  “Constancy is slipperiness and change.”  How do we dwell there and evince.  How do we act to find out?  There is always the other, another, a lack that we seek.  That is nothing, just lack.  Drives and desires and neuroses.  The community of thinkers.

Some of us question “what is wrong with us?”  Why a surplus enjoyment of troubling existence?  Why identities founded on nothing?  “Philosophy always arrives too late” (Hegel).  We can only begin at the ends.  Against nothing.  Yet toward.  And it is here I feel valued.  Here recognized.  Here is a home.  I belong.  In a timelessness of knowing in time.  An everywhere of nobodies anywhere.  Senses replete with mountains and rain.  Clear air and short breaths.  An absence of tasks.  Singular tasks.  Monumental tasks (for me).  That need all of the time in the world.  Are all of the time of the “world”.  Senseless letters.  Turbulent being.  In media res – in the middle of things – when outside already inside, inside where something’s always left out.

My collegiate journals from decades ago are riddled in their margins with: “to be the writer of loss,” “to be the philosopher of grey,” “to compose absence.”  A longing for empty origins since thinking began.  Repetition.

I walk for the body to process.  I dream of sharp thorns in my feet, of lost items, of absence and language and two shades of grey.  Rain comes through the clouds in the fog.  “The end is in the beginning, and yet you go on,” “My mistakes are my life,” – Samuel Beckett.  And so, and yet, I go on.  Intensively, demandingly, having “nothing to write, having no means to write it, and being forced by an extreme necessity to keep writing.” – Maurice Blanchot.

I miss those I hold nearest.  And I love them – how indecipherable the term – further description annuls it.  To say the unsaid or unsayable.  I am confused and elated.  Inspired and exhausted.  Drawn forward through despair.  And I love this experiencing.  It belongs.

“If nothing were substituted for everything, it would still be too much and too little.”
― Maurice Blanchot, The Writing of the Disaster

 

Education

On By NW FilbertIn Education, European Graduate School, human, Mary Ruefle, meaning, wisdom1 Comment

egs

“You simply cannot learn and know at the same time,

and this is a frustration we all must bear.“

-Mary Ruefle-