This week saw us grapple with a number of questions about
how the writer remains an independent individual in a collaborative, networked
world of electronic texts. Who’s talking, if texts aren’t actually individually
authored? How are you going to paraphrase another writer by putting what they
say “in your own words” if there aren’t any words that are your own? How can
you have your own ideas when you get so many (okay, almost all) of your ideas
from other people? And where the hell did they get their ideas? I mean, who had the idea the first time—and how
come they got to be so lucky and we’re stuck with “There is nothing new under
the sun”? Not to mention how much writing with other people(‘s ideas) sucks, at
least if you wanted to have your own ideas. (This is why I love Porter’s
account of Jefferson getting edited by
committee while drafting the Declaration
of Independence.)
These are genuinely fair questions, and they stymie
researchers too. It turns out to be incredibly difficult to tease apart culture
and inspiration. But then again, if you’re not sold on the claim that the best
writing is purely original (thank Shelley and Keats for that one), it kinda
matters less. Except as we have to figure out the arrangement questions that
Eilola-Johnson raises. From a writer’s point of view, though, here are maybe
some important question: What do you think? Why do you think it? Why does it
matter? If as a writer you can say those things, you’re gonna be all the
original and all the individual you need to be. And hope to goodness that what
you think, why, and why it matters, are informed somehow by the world and
people you surround yourself with. J
Engagement. Here’s what I will say: technology reveals disengagement. It doesn’t cause
it, doesn’t facilitate it, doesn’t enhance it, doesn’t teach it. It makes an
already disengaged student obviously
disengaged. But, so, the link to “Who’s talking” would be, for me, simply the
point that our electronic world gives us a
lot of voices to listen to. As rhetors encountering texts, we have to
prioritize. Or, back to my point about revealing disengagement, what we’re
reading reveals our priorities.
Ooo, revelation of priorities. That is an awesome clincher. The student then, dependent on life stage, may be a slave to acquiring the next stage. Pathos driven, ethos planned. A text teasing the possibility of a sexual encounter will take priority to delayed gratification. An A on a math quiz by taking notes. That goes into the "nowness" technology promises. One could view it as % gains to fulfillment. By being up to date and constantly responsive to a sexual target, the daily % gain to success rate is larger than the % gain toward ambiguous career fulfillment. Thus turning the iPhone off has a larger opportunity cost than taking notes in class, in that moment. It becomes viewed as irrational in hindsight or compounded across a larger time-frame, but the difficulty is in leaving the current space-time perspective. This may be an issue that develops long before a student arrives in college. Its sorta like knot tying class for the suicidal...every day someone ends up "hanging around" after class.
ReplyDeleteOkay, that was just wrong.
I think a great deal of the originality is in the putting on paper, so to speak. "That happened to me once!" "Yeah, but did you write about it?" "Uhhh, duhhh." For the using of other's words as your own, that is why I am pushed toward fiction and journalism, I can only take reading something about something about something for so long. I would like to instigate papers written too!