Why?: I hate the term Truth

Yesterday we were talking about how theory really answer the question "Why?". This morning I was having a conversation with some colleagues about how I'm not really comfortable with Truth because of the ways that it is often used to "other" that we don't identify with. We use Truth to mask Ideology. This led me to my rant about the misuse of the word mythology*, but also got me thinking this afternoon about the ways in which Truth is constructed or deconstructed in various texts and the subtle differences that are used to classify ideas and texts.

After admitting that I spent the better part of three days with Peter Dickinson after only reading one of his novels, I mentioned last month that I was going to read some more of his novels. The first one that came in the mail was Bone From a Dry Sea. The text does some interesting things in terms of time. Geographically readers never leave the same small piece of what is now Africa, yet they move several million years in time. Li (a derivative of Lilith) and Vinny (short for Lavinia) are parallel characters in many ways, but their worlds are constructed in very different ways. In essence both girls construct a world based on their understandings of the world around them and their experience, even though those experiences are often shared in some way. Not surprisingly, Li whose culture has only developed a very basic system of "words" bases her reality on physical objects and Vinny constructs here view of evolution based on a book that she read about sea-apes.

What I found most interesting about this book is the way in which Dickinson, doesn't label Li view as "primitive," a move that would be quite tempting. He admits in a parenthetical insertion early on that simply naming the character and allowing them to think in "words" is not fair to such a culture, but for the sake of telling a coherent story he must impose his experiences on them in this way. I really like that move because of the ways he recognizes his own ideologies in a concept that I would venture most people would label as truth. Had Dickinson not done this, the folklorist in me would have thrown a temper tantrum and probably put the book down. As person in a highly literate culture (not to mention a person who lives in the highly literate quadrant of that highly literate culture) we cannot really conceptualize what it is like to be illiterate, let alone have a spoken language of only a handful of words/sounds.

More than Dickinson's attention to this fact, I'm curious how one would classify this text. Science fiction often answers the why/how question, but this book contains very little actual science. It takes a theory which Dickinson names in the text and credits in the afterword and explores what that might look like. Amazon currently classifies it as both science fiction and fantasy--a move I see as more marketing based than actual critical analysis. Still, I find it interesting that in conversation some people are so quick to draw the line between science and mythology when they are so intertwined in many places. Li conceptions of why her tribe behaves in specific ways are attributed to a mythos that is later reinterpreted through science.

This is why I have an issue with Truth. I need categories that allow for fuzziness and messiness because I'm not sure I'm ready to believe anyone who claims to have "defined" either. I mentioned in class today that conversations which ask people to define "Truth" make me nervous. I was nervous when I first started reading Dickinson's book. It could have quickly "othered" a Truth by labeling it false which happens a lot in academic discussions. I'm glad it didn't, but I'm still curious "why" we feel the need to constantly define things in this way.

*Mythology doesn't does not mean false. Stop using it in this way. The term actually means a narrative that explains a phenomena (such as the origin of something) which contain supernatural elements and is believed to be true by the culture which tells it. By true I mean, the supernatural is not questioned. The Biblical creation story in Genesis is a myth for example.

Eva: The Musical

I Googled Eva and apparently clicked search video instead of the web. Suprisingly, someone has posted a musical interpretation of Dickinson's novel on YouTube. I find it funny that the book they are reading is Lois Lowry's The Giver. Enjoy!

Road Trip with Peter Dickinson Pt 2

This time last week, I was quite nervous about the approaching ChLA, but more importantly I was very nervous about taking Peter Dickinson back to the airport at the end of the conference. It wasn't so much that I really had anything else to do that day, but 3 hours one-on-one with a well known author whose paper I presented on was a little unnerving. I know I said yesterday that I would blog about the experience today (and I sat down to do this morning), but in the mean time, I found Robin McKinley's blog. I'm intrigued for several reasons, but I spent all afternoon reading not because I'd just spent the better part of three days with her husband Peter Dickinson, but rather because she has footnotes in her blog. Those of you who know me well know that I am both unable to function without the footnote and have an irrational fear of footnote punctuation (there's a story here for those that are interested). I don't know that I will be able to pull off the footnoting of my own blog, but I'm in love with this metacommentary.

Anyway, back to the conference. I spent the first half of the conference regretting that I had submitted the paper. The introvert part of me combined with a very strong perfection impulse led me to toy with scenarios that would allow me to not present. I met Peter very early on Thursday morning when Roberta introduced us. I think that I was only able to end the conference without an ulcer because I was able to interact with him on much less pressure intensive situations earlier in the conferences--I helped him send an email to his wife, we printed his boarding pass, I drove him to lunch, etc.

By the time we got to Saturday and the presentation, I felt like I was going to be sick again. I opted for the short version of my paper.* (please note the punctuation of the pseudo-footnote) The paper seemed well received; quite frankly I don't remember much of that time.

The trip back to O'hare was wonderful. We chatted about politics, semis (and truckstops), how I miss the hills of the Ozarks, and numerous other topics. I was worried about the weather because storm clouds were looming, but they managed to hold out until our return trip. We did spend some time wandering through a Joliet grocery store in order not have to drive in the storms, but the flight seemed to depart as close to on-time as O'hare can accomplish.

My final thoughts on the experience have little to do with the confernce, and more to do with Peter Dickinson as an author who is also a human being. Part of my anxiety in this conference came from an experience I had as a master's student. I was writing my thesis on the runner up for the Phoenix Award and I emailed her to ask a question. She responded with a very dismissive and very accusatory email.** That experience made me very nervous about interacting with another author, but Peter was so gracious. Shortly after I helped him check-in on his flight, he gave me a book of his poetry that his children put together in honor of his 80th birthday. He inscribed it to Greg and me as a thank you for taking him back to the airport. I've paid people to sign my books, I've stood in line to have books signed, but I've never had someone offer me one as a gift.***

*it's very bad form to go over the time allotment at a conference, and since I was in the very last session, I felt like everyone's attention span would be shot anyway.
**basically she told me that I (and all other academics) was what was wrong with literature and that I had totally missed the point. I've withheld her name here because many of you know, but simple research can reveal this person if you are really interested.
***this was the honored portion of the previous post

Money Spiders

The last time I blogged I was finding ways to avoid dealing with the fact that a) I was presenting a paper at a conference about the honored book in which the author would be present for my paper and b) I was then responsible for taking that author on the 2 1/2 hour drive back to O'Hare. Quite frankly, I'm exhausted now and really don't want to blog, but feel like I should. So, the last 4 days can be summed up in the following adjectives: excited, tired, nauseous, really nauseous, honored.

Tomorrow when I have finally slept, I will blog in detail about the last couple of days, but for now I'll leave it at this: I'm back home, and Peter Dickinson is somewhere over the Atlantic, and I might be indebted to Anita Tarr for the rest of my life. That sounds really cheesy, but for once I'm glad that I'm unable to say "no" to people.

Road Trip with Peter Dickinson

On my to do list for this week was to finish revising my paper for the ChLA conference next week. I'm notoriously bad about revising (generally cutting a 20 page paper into 8) at the last minute (plane ride to the conference, in the hotel the night before or morning of, etc). This year is different for a couple of reasons. 1) the conference is in Normal, so I can exactly edit while driving the 5 minutes to the conference. Not to mention the fact that since we are hosting, the time I would generally spend editing will likely be spent at the registration table. 2) The more important reason that I can't procrastinate this year is that I am presenting on Peter Dickinson's Eva, which is the winner of the Phoenix Award this year. Dickinson is coming to the conference, so this makes the pressure *slightly* higher.

In the midst of working on the paper, I also found out that there was an opportunity to travel with a professor who was returning Dickinson to O'Hare. I volunteered and made a mental note to then add "reading more Peter Dickinson" to my to do list. Last night I received an email that asked if I would be willing to drive Dickinson myself because of a timing conflict. Now I really must read more Dickinson before next week (or find someone to accompany me who has read more). Those of you have read more of his stuff, suggestions on where to start?

On a related note, I was really nervous about presenting on the work of an author who was going to be present for the conference. I had a very bad experience when I wrote to an author whose work was the subject of my thesis and she responded with a very nasty "you've missed the point entirely" and then proceeded to tell me that academics were ruining the art. Since the Phoenix Award is given to books that were not as well received when they were first published, but have since been highly regarded, I was a little leary of what I would find in the reviews of Eva and how Dickinson feels about critical discussions of his texts. Thankfully, I found the following letter on his website and now feel much better.

Back to reading and revising.