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Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Learning Journal #25 (3/28)

Every now and then in the enormous notebook that holds all my notes for all my classes, I'll have a page that is covered in hasty, scrawling cursive that doesn't fit quite on the lines. It's almost always got a huge star next to it that says, "For Field Study!" Today, I thought I'd talk about one of them.

One of my favorite TED talks is by Brené Brown, and it's called "The Power of Vulnerability." Apparently I wasn't listening very well in class because I was reading the transcription of her talk, and copied the following quote:
... we make everything that's uncertain certain. Religion has gone from a belief in faith and mystery to certainty. I'm right, you're wrong. Shut up. That's it. Just certain. The more afraid we are, the more vulnerable, the more afraid we are.
My first question written right after this quote is: were people during the Renaissance more uncertain before or after the Copernican Revolution?

To start off, I've seen how much people during the medieval period accepted mystery. The play cycles that depicted Biblical stories were called mystery plays, so the idea that some things remained unknown wasn't a problem. I think this was also built into their cosmology, which of course continued into the Renaissance. Sure, they built their universe system, but they didn't have much definite proof to back it up, or to prove it wrong.

Then, of course, Copernicus came along and crushed it.

One of the books that I've included as one of my annotated sources is a book by Jamie James called The Music of the Spheres: Music, Science, and the Natural Order of the Universe. While this book primarily focuses on music, it contains some wonderful explanations about how the course of science was forever changed by scientific discoveries that started with Copernicus, and which I think gives a bit of an answer to my question. He writes:
Picture to yourself, if you can, a universe in which everything makes sense. A serene order presides over the earth around you, and the heavens above revolve in sublime harmony. Everything you can see and hear and know is an aspect of the ultimate truth ... It is not simply a matter of faith: the best philosophical and scientific minds have proved that it is so.
This is no New Age fantasy but our own world as scientists, philosophers, and artist knew it ... Those ideals are gone forever. After the revelations of modern scientific enquiry, educated people will never again be able to face the universe, now unimaginably complex, with anything like the serenity and certitude that existed for most of our history. ... 
The asking of ... questions was the intellectual breakthrough, and the answers were as poetic and expansive as the questions, for there existed no data with which they were expected to conform, aside from the perceived order and beauty of creation. "Doing things" was disdained as unworthy of science, whose true purpose was to elucidate the fundamental unities that explain the function and thus the meaning of the phenomenal world. 
As scientific observation accumulated information, ostensibly to make the answers to the questions more precise, the universe revealed itself to be far more complicated than anyone had ever imagined. The assumption throughout centuries of science had been that there was a logic underlying the apparent chaos of creation, but that the human perception was too clouded and fallacious to discern it. By the nineteenth century science had abandoned that position, and the search for the fundamental unities became more and more a theoretical goal. An abrupt conceptual turnabout had taken place: whereas Plato had taught that anything the eye could see was illusory, modern science teaches that the only things that do exist are those we can see and touch... (from p. 3-5)
I know that was an absolutely enormous quote, but isn't it great? There were some others that might have been better, but I returned the book to the library, and that's all I can pull from the Google Books preview. As I see it, the discoveries which started with Copernicus did a couple of things. First, they made some things more certain. By giving the science and mathematics behind his observations, Copernicus introduced a new level of certainty about the structure of the universe to the world. However, it did another thing: it opened a whole new can of uncertainty worms, and these uncertainties were not just about how the universe was built, but about what that meant for humanity.

Science, of course, has been forever changed. While as a discipline it once accepted mystery and uncertainty as still valuable, now we've gone so far as to do exactly what Brené Brown was talking about: we've pushed for certainty. We need to see numbers, facts, reality. And yet, with every new discovery, it seems that the certainty we seek gets even further out of our reach. I've been watching The Fabric of the Universe on Nova recently, and it seems to me that the deeper you get into science and the universe, the weirder it gets, the more questions there are to ask, the more answers remain elusive. It's that whole, "The more you know, the more you know you don't know" sort of thing.

I guess it just seems to me that the more we get into trying to make things certain, the further we get from understanding them. Maybe there's more truth in mystery than we realize. Because really, in terms of defining God, my own experience has told me that the more people try to find tangible proof, the more it eludes them. Finding proof of God comes through faith—through accepting mystery. Or, as Keats would put it, through negative capability, "that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason." It's only then that tangible proof comes.

I don't have time to fully explore what I'm thinking right now because I've spent so much time writing this already. But I want to explore later (note to self!) the relationship between perceptions and definitions of God and the controversy between faith and proof. That is, did the response to the Copernican Revolution initially encourage more proving, or more faith in God's mystery? For myself, I totally reject the idea of an unknowable, unexplained, undefinable God; I think He means for us to know who He is. But at the same time, we can't expect to prove who God is—faith is absolutely necessary. So we have to accept, but we shouldn't blindly and blithely accept; we should think, but not so much that we lose the ability to have faith. It's the entire controversy that we're currently discussing in my Christian History class—faith vs. reason. (Goodness. No wonder Martin Luther made such a beef about it.) I understand the concept, it's just difficult to verbalize. And it's even more difficult to mesh with the whole concept of changing perceptions and definitions of God as a result of the Copernican Revolution. Add this to the stack of things to think about ...

Monday, March 26, 2012

Learning Journal #24 (3/26)

After preparing for class last week by reading up about books, television, and radio in English newspapers, I found myself asking one big question: why is everyone so obsessed with Doctor Who? Having been raised on Masterpiece Theater and Monty Python and the Holy Grail, I thought I had this English entertainment thing down without ever seeing an episode of Doctor Who. But after seeing three articles about "the Doctor's new companion" on the main television page, and even on the paper homepage, I began to wonder if this was an issue of national concern, rather than just a weird corner of Tumblr fandom.

Apparently it is.

Apparently, it has also been running for forty-six years (with a sixteen-year hiatus of cancellation somewhere in there), and is the most popular science fiction television series of all time. Doctor Who knew? (My apologies. That was horrendous. Absolutely unacceptable. Moving right along ...) A Google search about the popularity of the show includes results such as "The Doctor's skyrocketing popularity in America" and "Doctor Who prompts surge of popularity of bow ties" ... now that's what I call power!

I read an article, "What  Makes Doctor Who So Great?" by Kendall Korolowicz, who describes the show as "something of an institution for the whole country." His explanation for the show's popularity is its
... sheer level of originality and diversity of its storytelling caused by the production team’s willingness to go as far 'out there' with itself as possible. Giving themselves a universe of opportunities with a character that can travel throughout the universe they decide to boldly go to the places that other TV shows, primarily American TV shows, have no sack to go to. Other shows like Star Trek may go around the spectrum with what they do, but Star Trek is still science fiction, while Doctor Who, in a fashion that makes his regenerative abilities quite symbolic, can change to any genre at undeterminable will.
An interesting interpretation. I suppose if it's really that popular and pervasive in English culture, I'm going to have to watch it. For research purposes only, of course.


... ;)

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Learning Journal #23 (3/21)

I found Fox's chapter on linguistic class codes fascinating, and how both pronunciation of words and the words themselves are indicative of class. I don't think we're half as aware of class as the English are (at least, as Fox describes them), but I think Americans do have some reflection of this in our culture. Like the English, we have regional accents: southern, Jersey, Utah ... lots that seem to be attached to actual states. These affect pronunciation, and sometimes word usage. For example, in, say, Colorado, someone can offer you a Coke, and you will say "yes" or "no" and that's perfectly acceptable. In the south, someone will offer you a coke, and if you say "yes" or "no," they're going to ask you what kind, because "coke" doesn't mean "Coca-Cola," it means "soda." But back to the point I was making, I don't think we attach class distinctions to these sorts of linguistic variations for various reasons which I'd assume include the sheer size of the U.S. compared to the U.K. and general lack of attention to class distinctions in the U.S. period. We just don't have the class-ridden history that England does; in fact, we've kind of made a point of dismantling the class system. It's kind of a selling point for us.

At any rate, I realized as I was reading that, for whatever reason, I was subconsciously cataloging words I shouldn't say and congratulating myself for saying "upper class" words ... I was a little bit appalled because for one, I'm American, therefore I'll probably have a lot more problems in the way people perceive me than my socioeconomic class. Soon afterwords, I was scrolling through Tumblr, and found the following gem:



I had been previously made aware of the difference in the meaning of the word "pants" in America vs. Britain, but I had no idea about suspenders. It was at this point that I realized that, if I'm going to try to English-ify my grammar, I should probably worry more about eradicating the word "pants" than the word "pardon." Because talking about my pants in public is going to be a lot more problematic.


(FYI, there's a whole list of words that have different meanings in Britain vs. the U.S.: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_words_having_different_meanings_in_British_and_American_English:_A%E2%80%93L)

Annotated Sources #22-34 (3/7-4/3)

And the backlog of annotated sources finally presents itself ....


(3/7) Baker, Herschel Clay. The Dignity of Man: Studies in the Persistence of an Idea. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1947. Print.
  • This text provides a history of how man has thought of himself. The text is divided into three sections: the Classical View of Man, the Christian View of Man, and the Renaissance View of Man. Baker's book will be useful in providing information on how man has perceived himself in relation to God. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young. 
(3/9) Bamborough, J. B. The Little World of Man. London: Longmans, Green, 1952. Print.
  •  This book examines psychology and English Renaissance literature. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young. 
(3/12) Bush, Douglas. Science and English Poetry: A Historical Sketch, 1590-1950. New York: Oxford UP, 1950. Print.
  • This book explores the relationship between science and poetry in England. I hope that the broad time period it covers will give an interesting overview of how the Copernican Revolution continued to have an impact on literature. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young.  
(3/14) Craig, Hardin. The Enchanted Glass the Elizabethan Mind in Literature. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1950. Print.
(3/16) Lewis, C. S. A Preface to Paradise Lost. London: Oxford UP, 1961. Print.
  • This book is, of course, focused on Milton's Paradise Lost, which I hope will be helpful to my research. It particularly addresses the Elizabethan world picture and some contemporary theological issues, which I think will be very enlightening in relation to my project. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young. It is available to read online:  http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=4359520 
(3/19) Lovejoy, Arthur O. The Great Chain of Being; a Study of the History of an Idea. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1936. Print.
  • This book discusses the Great Chain of Being, and will be very helpful in understanding the definition of God according to the Renaissance cosmology that is closely tied with the Chain. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young.  
(3/21) Lowes, John Livingston. Geoffrey Chaucer: Lectures Delivered in 1932 on the William J. Cooper Foundation in Swarthmore College. London: Oxford UP, 1949. Print.
  • I can't find any information on this text, but it was recommended to me by Dr. Young. 
(3/23) Spencer, Theodore. Shakespeare and the Nature of Man. New York: Macmillan, 1942. Print.
  • This book, particularly the first two chapters, provide an overview of the relationship between man and the cosmos. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young. It is available to read online:  http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=9028720
(3/26) Tayler, Edward W. Nature and Art in Renaissance Literature. New York: Columbia UP, 1964. Print.
  • This text addresses nature and art, and particularly nature and art as they relate to God and man—sometimes one was closer to God, and sometimes it was the other. Their representation in literature may give me a good idea of how God was defined by those living during the Renaissance. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young.  
(3/28) Tillyard, E. M. W. The Elizabethan World Picture. London: Chatto & Windus, 1943. Print.
  • This book discusses Renaissance cosmology and related concepts, such as the Great Chain of Being, and how they are represented in literature. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young.  
(3/30) Wilson, F. P. Elizabethan and Jacobean. Oxford: Clarendon, 1945. Print.
  • This book discusses the relationship between the Elizabethans and the Jacobeans. I am particularly interested in the first chapter, which discusses their shared concept of man's relationship to God. This text was recommended to me by Dr. Young.  
(4/1) Wilson, John Dover. The Essential Shakespeare. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge UP, 1952. Print.
  • I can't find much information on this text, but it was recommended to me by Dr. Young.  
(4/3) Patrides, C. A. "The Numerological Approach to Cosmic Order During the English Renaissance." Isis 49.4 (1958): 391-397. Print.
  • Patrides's article cites the previous twelve sources, and outlines the hierarchical structure of the cosmos. This will be useful in getting a stronger idea of man's perception of God during the Renaissance. 

Monday, March 12, 2012

Learning Journal #22 (3/12)

"Helping, Fixing, Serving?" was a fantastic article, and not just from the perspective of field studies. I think it's incredibly important to approach field research from a service-oriented perspective, rather than from the perspective of wanting to help or fix a situation. Of course, for projects such as mine, the tendency towards helping and fixing is fairly unlikely, simply because short of engaging in open war with a nearly-hundred-year-old-article, the focus of literary research is more about finding and compiling information than finding and enacting solutions. However, I think that there's something to be said for applying the spirit of service to my project: service in terms of living with my host family, and service in approaching the perspectives of the long-deceased that I will be studying.

I think that a service-oriented perspective is important to research, even that which is primarily library-based, because I will be attempting to present the opinions of individuals who can no longer speak for themselves. As such, I have a responsibility to approach a study of their beliefs and opinions in a way that allows me to present them accurately, to serve their memories with as much gentleness and humility as I would serve a living person.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Annotated Source #21 & Learning Journal #21 (3/5)

"Western Concepts of God." Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 7 July 2005. Web. 07 Mar. 2012. <http://www.iep.utm.edu/god-west/>.

  • This source outlines the course of man's understanding of God throughout time, highlighting the sources of Western concepts of God, the historical overview, and the divine attributes of God. It also includes a list of references for further reading on the subject. This is particularly helpful for my project because it provides a quick look at how the perception of God was changing. 


Behold, the slow but sure narrowing of a project focus:

I've been thinking a lot lately about DTR's—a BYU-slangronym for "Define the Relationship." Typically, this is a term we use to describe a conversation that establishes a relationship status (or dissolves the hope of one). A relationship definition is built upon the definition of Person A's feelings for Person B, and the definition of Person B's feelings for Person A. It is also built upon the definition of Person A and the definition of Person B. Can Person A have a relationship with Person B without being able to, in some terms, define Person B? Without being able to define their feelings for Person B?

I'd argue that it's pretty difficult. If you can't define something, how can you have a relationship with it? To have a relationship is "the state or fact of being related; the way in which two things are connected; ..." (OED). I suppose it's possible to have a relationship without understanding it; just because two things are connected doesn't mean that we understand the way they are connected. But I would argue that it's very difficult to understand your relationship with something if you don't know how to relate to it, if you don't understand what it is.

So, to narrow my focus, I don't want to focus on the perceived relationship between man and God, but on the way that people defined God. For me, it's hard not to go that second step (which is such an easy jump), because when I think about how I define God, I immediately apply that to my relationship with Him. However, I think that focusing simply on definitions of God will be interesting.

This week I went to the Beauty & Belief exhibit in the MOA, and there was an interesting portion of the exhibit that showed the 99 Names of God. In Islam, God is the Creator, the Guardian, the All-Seeing, the Hidden, the Manifest, the Avenger, the Pardoner. Each of these names is part of the definition of who God is. This reminded me of the Renaissance depiction of God as the geometer:


This depiction of God reminded me distinctly of the 99 Names of God in Islam. There are various groups that speak of God the Artist, or God the Great Architect ... however, so far none of them seem to be rooted in the Renaissance/Early Modern Period (and Christianity) in the same way as this depiction of God the Geometer is. All this being said, I think there is still a lot to be understood about the Renaissance/Early Modern definition of God.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Learning Journal #20 (3/2)

Over the past few days, I've been trying to think of ways to make my topic even more narrow in scope so that it will be not only more manageable, but more specific. I want it to be more specific, because the narrower I make my topic, the deeper I can dig. Otherwise, I'll just be digging a really wide and shallow research pit, and nobody wants that. I haven't decided exactly how I want to do this yet, but I've had a couple of ideas come into my head:
  • Focus only on the writings of a few specific authors—possibly the Sidneys, John Donne, Margaret Cavendish, or Alexander Pope
  • Restrict myself to writings produced during a specific decade (or a few decades)
  • Focus on the similarities and differences between literary and official Church responses—essentially a more theological approach
  • Focus on one genre—prose, poetry, or drama (I'd probably choose poetry)
  • Some combination of these, such as how Alexander Pope's literary response to the Copernican Revolution differed from the responses of the scientific and religious communities
The only trouble with these ideas is that, so far, I don't like them much at all, either because they just don't appeal to me, or because they feel too narrow (and make it difficult to incorporate actually being in London into it), or some other reason. If I'm going to dedicate three months of my life to studying one particular topic, it'd be nicer if I mostly like it and that it also takes advantage of being in London. This will be something I'll be trying to work out over the next few weeks. 

Annotated Source #20 (3/2)

Koyré, Alexander. From the Closed World to the Infinite Universe. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins Press, 1957. Print.

  • Koyré's book provides an excellent discussion of the impact of the scientific discoveries of the seventeenth century, and includes several chapters discussing the specific results of these discoveries on perceptions of God within the scope of the new universe concept.