The Queste for the Holy Grail

The Two Headed, Fire-Breathing Dragon and other Magical Creatures

2010-09-26T14:36:00.001+02:00

Now that my scrolls of intent have been sent off for review by my most revered and toughest professor from Undergraduate Knight Training, I can now apply myself to the extremely risky task of tacking the Two Headed, Fire Breathing Dragon (i.e. Ye Olde Writing Sample). This Fire Breathing Dragon does not seem to have a vulnerable spot in its gonads like other dragons*. In fact, it appears to be armor plated all around, which personally makes me want to hide in a very small ball, and read Get Fuzzy comics (Bucky Katt is officially my new hero) instead of actually picking up my sword and tackling the beast (yes. I am the first to admit to being a coward. Not a particularly Knightly trait, but it keeps me alive).

My writing sample focuses on issues of chivalry in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was supposed to be based on an undergrad close reading paper I wrote a very long time ago, but recent reading (Maurice Keen's Chivalry, specifically) has turned my original idea upside down, and now my fire-breathing dragon is turning somersaults all around me and making me very dizzy. Originally I thought that the precepts of Chivalry were revoked, that Gawain failed. Seems that now, I think that the chivalric tradition was upheld perfectly and it's not Gawain that's necessarily flawed, but chivalry itself**. Also, an article I read about the connection between the collapse of the Templar order and SGGK has actually ended up linking this particular area of research to my overall theme - the Matter of Britain and the Crusades. So basically, now I have to write the entire thing from scratch. Which means that the dragon, formerly having only one head (aptly named Revision), has grown an additional head (aptly named Original Scholarship). My one and only head is swimming.

Unfortunately, writing a 15-20 page research paper on one's own is not an easy feat. It is a task fit for seasoned knights, who have been slaying dragons and rescuing damosels for quite a while. Especially since this paper must be publishing worthy so that those nitpicking senior Knights of the Adcomm Round table won't laugh at me for my presumption. I must demonstrate original thought (i.e. perhaps a new dragon slaying technique, or a clever variation of someone else's dragon slaying technique), excellent writing skills (any dragon slaying treatise must include strong verbs and clear, forceful writing), and discourse with current scholarship (i.e. how does my dragon slaying technique dialogue with other Knights' techniques). While I do have some access to research materials (thanks to UMass who have yet to revoke my student account to the library, I have full access to JSTOR and the Literary Reference Center for articles), I still don't have full access to a library. Anything published in the past four years, I can't really get my hands on with ease, meaning that some of the most cutting edge dragon slaying techniques are out of my reach at the moment. It's also not easy working solo, without a class or a Professor helping a knight-in-training along. While I do have readers for my paper for future critique and evaluation, I'm still extremely nervous of embarking on this part of the quest on my own. I would give my right arm for a scholarly Gawain at my side, guiding me on my path, and nudging me here and there, especially right before I'm about to fall off my Palfrey Mare and make an utter fool of myself (this has been known to happen on a number of occasions. And let me tell you, it's NOT EASY getting back in the saddle in full armor!).

The task of attacking the two-headed, fire-breathing dragon will begin this upcoming Wednesday (after an afternoon vocal choir concert) and will probably continue for the next two weeks for the first draft. Obviously, I've already researched the topic copiously, but I still have two books to finish reading, and many many articles to skim through and see if are relevant to my thesis (which hasn't quite been defined yet). I honestly think I've forgotten how to do this. It's been nearly a decade since I last sat down and wrote something purely scholarly. I'm hoping that the language comes back to me at some point. Otherwise, this project will end up sounding very juvenile.

Montfort Castle

The two-headed, fire-breathing dragon is not the only thing on my mind, however. A certain pesky, annoying creature (perhaps a pixie, or an elf of some sort) named the CV has been prickling my conscience as of late, which means I must start dealing with it over the next day or so, and get a good solid first draft out as soon as possible. While I have written resumes for the job market many times, this is my first real academic CV. With the teaching experience I've accumulated over the past two years, and 2 (yes, TWO!!) lectures presented at conferences (so what if one of them was FantasyCon Tel-Aviv 2007??), I may actually have some "meat" to place in it, rather than just fluff (i.e. how to transform 6 semesters on Dean's List, graduation with Honors in the department and Distinction in the university, and membership in National Golden Key Honors society to a brilliant sounding academic career). Another magical creature pestering me by whispering sweet nothings in my ear is the leprechaun of the Diversity Statement/Personal Statement, in which I am required to display my worth as a human being (specifically a diverse human being, and not just another white-upper-middle-class, well educated knight-errant), and what personal revelations led me to pursue this Queste (i.e. I taught myself to read dragon-lore at the age of four from Sesame Street and The Electric Company, I continued to demand books in English even after moving to a different country and studying in a different language throughout all my school years, and I started reading Shakespeare at fourteen, for some odd reason). The method for conquering this type of leprechaun is to focus on being bi-cultural and how my Israeli background can actually help me pursue my studies (after all, I have visited the city of Acre several times, and my parents live 30 minutes away from it, and only 10 minutes away from the Montfort, an old, crumbling, 12th century crusader castle that resides on top of a hill that is just as crumbling as the castle), and obviously, how being bi-cultural is beneficial to the cohort I will eventually join. I also think I should mention that part of my particular brand of diversity is about sniffing books as I take them out of the amazon.com box, however, I worry that this particular tidbit isn't that diverse, only very very strange, odd, and geeky to the extreme.

A dragon-slayer's work is never done. And since the CV pixie has decided that this very moment is ideal to jump up and down in my hair while yelling war cries in my ears***, I should probably go deal with that. Right. At Once. Immediately. Just... right after the next Get Fuzzy comic (from March)!

* For the full treatise on the Caring and Capture of dragons (Swamp and Magical), see Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett.
** Truthfully, I'm not really sure what I think. I keep changing my mind on this matter. I probably won't really know what I think until I'm done writing.
*** It is thought that pixies are a dark blue color, since the Picts (whom they are supposedly named after) colored their faces in some type of blue coloring. I, however, can reliably report that pixies, when angry and yelling war cries in ears, are, in fact, purple with blue hair. I'm sure that if Captain Kirk would have encountered a female pixie during his travels aboard the Enterprise, he would have romanced**** it/her.
**** i.e. had sex with, including cheesy dialogue.

Illuminating Brilliantly, or Those Jousting Monkeys just won't behave!

2010-09-20T10:18:00.001+02:00

This has been a great week for a would-be-knight such as myself, overall. Most importantly, a paper of mine (yet to be written) has been accepted for presentation at the International Congress for Medieval Studies at Kalamazoo, Western Michigan, which is quite A Feather in My Cap (and perhaps will cause those Senior Knights of the Adcomm Round Tables to Sit Up and Take Notice of my application scrolls). Placing all freaking-out emotions aside (of which there are many), this is possibly the best thing that has ever happened to me. I feel like an actual scholar, despite my deficiency in Holy Grails and Questing experience.

Spamalot! (with Clay Aiken, sans Jousting Monkeys.).

The Scroll of Intent, however, is not progressing quite as well. It is, in my humble opinion, effete crappe (pardon my Occitan*), and although my friend Melissa says it's a fairly solid scroll, I feel petulant. I don't want it to be solid. Solid isn't an adjective you describe your first pick. It's that back-up pick, the one you take if your first pick isn't available (so you comfort yourself by saying - "oh, it's a solid option, I really shouldn't complain"). I don't want my scroll to be solid. I want those jousting monkeys to jump out of the page in their brilliance, to give the impression that they are actually singing and dancing and performing Spamalot! That's not solid work - that's extraordinary work. That's brilliant work. Now that there is actual substance to back up my claims of being a brilliant scholar worth the five to six year fellowship + meat pie & new horse stipend provided by the Orders of Knights, my Scroll of Intent should reflect that.

Knight and his paramour

Only, it feels like it doesn't. While I have been told that it's normal to feel this way about scrolls of intent, I'm not sure how to fix it. What can I possibly say that will make my scholarship sound unique? The fact that I currently live in the very site of the Crusades and have visited the crusade city of Acre (and the less famous Montfort castle in the western Galilee) many times? I won't be living here if accepted to an Order of Knights! That I can read Melech Artus in the original Hebrew, as translated from various sources of French, Middle English, and Latin? I'm far from being the only person in the world who knows both Hebrew and is an Arthur Freak. While my particular field of interest is somewhat obscure, I'm not the first to think of it, or to suggest this particular angle of dragon slaying. So how, how does one illuminate a scroll of intent brilliantly, vibrantly, so that the images literally pop out and grab a Senior Knight's attention? And how, in the name of everything sacred, do I manage to state this without sounding like a condescending, self-important, vain prat (as I have stated in earlier posts, the one distinguishing mark of a knight-in-training is abject humility and the ability to endlessly humiliate oneself for our paramour - in this case, my paramour is actually getting in to grad school)?

The presentation of my paper at Kalamazoo will help - at least it gives my scholarship (i.e. theoretical dragon slaying) some credence and credibility. I'm very much hoping that my writing sample (i.e. fire-breathing dragon slaying treatise) will be a heart-stopping, breath-taking, page-turning masterpiece. In fact, I've just discovered that aside from the longer piece, I must also revise one of my shorter dragon slaying proposals from college, as The Southern Star Order of Virginia Knights actually require two samples of my abilities (together not exceeding 25 vellum sheets. Why oh Why? I wish I could just study with Merlin, who would turn me into a fish. Much more practical! Also, wouldn't it be absolutely excellent to receive a Letter of Recommendation from Merlin? After all, who is more qualified to sing my praises than one of the characters in the material I study???).

Monkey as Doctor (instead of Jousting, as he should!)

Anyhow, back to those pesky Jousting Monkeys. Revision three is not going well. I'm actually thinking of tossing it and starting over from scratch. Perhaps use an anecdote from the Crusades illustrating the connection between the literary crusades tradition and the Matter of Britain**. This is extreme, I know. But perhaps then the gold leaf paint will stay on the page, and those silly monkeys will stop dressing up as monks and doctors holding vials filled with urine, and return to their proper function, i.e. jousting. And now the worries about the CV are starting to pop up, and the gnawing insecurities about actually writing a brand new paper on my own (make that write one, revise one), and I'm turning into a quivering bowl of yellow jell-o (oooh, nice rhyme!).

However, as the Jewish people have managed to overcome 2000 years of persecution, pogroms, and manic knights on the way to the Holy Land wildly swinging their broadswords, I, too, shall overcome. Perhaps what I need is a sit down in front of a camp fire, roasting marshmallows, and singing we shall overcome and kumbaya. Or Prozac may just do the trick...

Next Time on THE QUESTE: ummmmm... well, ummmm.... I'd rather not say. It's not like I actually manage to keep to what I promise to write each post. I just thought that "Next Time on THE QUESTE" sounded really dramatic, like an episode of "The Hills" or something.

*Occitan - an Old French dialect, based primarily in the Aquitaine area. There appears to be a revival of Occitan songs, trying to rediscover the glory of the 12th century troubadours (many of which were the first to sing and tell Arthurian legends) by an excellent duo called The Fabulous Troubadours. Trés hip!

**The Matter of Britain - the collection of faux histories, romances, and legends (including the Arthurian) that pertain to the olden days of Britain (compared to contemporary medieval times, of course). The Matter of Britain officially starts with Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain. Supposedly, Britain was founded by Brutus, an escaped Trojan (obviously hijacking the Aeneid...), and obviously, the most glorious King of All was Arthur (also, according to Matter of Britain tradition, Helena, Constantin's mother [you know, Constantin, the Roman Emperor who converted to Christianity and dragged the entire Roman Empire after him, kicking and screaming] was British, thus making Constantin a Brit as well, and a great source of pride for the Anglo-Saxon conquerors of the Britons).

Return of the Jousting Monkeys - Revising the Statement of Purpose

2010-09-14T12:50:00.002+02:00

Surprisingly, I actually spent a few hours revising my Scroll of Intent this past weekend (my new laptop is the best thing since the invention of sliced bread, and has also been blessed by various saints, I'm sure, and I can now revise and write from the comfort of my couch, while also browsing the vast array of information on the web, due to wireless internet access), basing my revisions on comments I've received from two excellent virtual friends (thanks Amy and Melissa!). It's harder than I thought it would be. Although the second draft has now been sent off for additional review and comments, this is still possibly the hardest piece of writing I've ever had to produce. A foul two-headed Giant, indeed. And I'm no Arthur (or even a bumbling Sir Bedevere).

Arthur and the Giant of St. Michael's Mons

The first draft came fairly easily, when I wrote it a few weeks ago. Obviously, it's waaaay too long, but it flowed, without too much restriction or structure. After reading commentary, revisions did not go quite as smoothly. Although I have decided to stick with the initial quote I began with, as it can connect to just about every aspect of my research interests, I keep trying to make sure that everything ties together perfectly, flawlessly, as one unit. It's hard. It's especially hard keeping it to the 500 word requirement. I feel like I could fill up double that amount with what I want to say and what I feel is utterly important and necessary to show my scholarly potential (and thus, get the Senior Knights at the Holy Order of Yale (or if not Yale, a different order in my list) to immediately accept me to their Queste program with a nice fat stipend for the occasional meat pie, a new horse (to keep my Palfrey Mare company so she stops trying to buck me off her back like we're in a rodeo or something), and brand new armor. Did I mention being knighted by a Yale [or another Order] Senior Knight is included in the deal?).

Voynich Manuscript

Revising statements of purpose often feels as futile as trying to decipher the Voynich Manuscript*. How is it possible to demonstrate our brilliance as scholars in a paltry 500-700 words? (some Orders of Knights actually require a much more succinct version, limiting your scroll of intent to a mere 300 words). In these 500 words, I am supposed to demonstrate my history as a knight errant in Academia, any trophies I've won along the way from various tournaments (and these must be entered in a "by the way" type of manner, with no boasting or pride, as humility in a knight supersedes all other qualities, and must be equal to his prowess - just ask Geoffroi de Charney**), how deeply I understand dragons and their feeding habits, and which senior knights influenced me the most. In addition, the scroll of intent must also include future plans - which particular dragons do I wish to slay, why is slaying them particularly important or relevant in today's modern world, and what other branches of study to I endeavor to take on? Finally, I must also state why The Holy Order of the Knights of Yale is the perfect program to advance my Queste for the Holy Grail (this paragraph gets adjusted per the order I send it to, obviously - it would be terribly embarrassing to send of a scroll of intent to Northwestern with the Yale information, right?).

St. George Slaying the Dragon

I ended up keeping the quote I chose for the first draft, partially because I just couldn't find a different quote that was quite as encompassing. After all, Loomis defined the Questing Riddle quite well - sometimes the older questions are still relevant. After all, no one has managed to answer the riddle in a definitive manner since 1963 (including Loomis). I did manage to cut off quite a lot of extraneous text. But I'm still a few hundred words over the limit, and I still feel that it just isn't good enough. So now that I've finished draft 2 of the scroll of intent and have sent it off for review, I'm struggling with various questions about it. Does it sparkle? Does it represent everything I want to do? Does it show how capable I am of entering a queste at the greatest orders of knighthood in the country? Is it brilliant and compelling? Do my questions appear relevant and important to scholarship? I still have nightmares of all those senior knights rolling around on the floor near the Adcomm Round Table as they read my application. I've been told that this is normal.

Obviously, the scroll of intent isn't even close to being done, at least as far as I'm concerned. Those bloody jousting monkeys don't seem to stay put and keep running around poking each other in inappropriate anatomical regions or dressing up as doctors and monks while performing various high jinks on other hapless animals (they have something in common with my Palfrey Mare, I presume...), but it's all part of the process of the Queste. Perhaps in April, once my acceptance letters arrive, I will be laughing at my insecurities and nitpicking perfectionism that are currently displaying themselves with a vengeance (what on earth do they have to be vengeful about?).

Slaying dragons is hard work. However, no one ever said that the Queste for the Holy Grail would be easy.

Next time on the Queste (unless I get distracted): Soliciting Senior Knights to write Letters of Introduction. A tragic saga of passion, death, and martyrdom (oops, actually, the tragic saga is something else entirely. Soliciting Senior Knights is basically just begging and pleading while humiliating oneself utterly).

* The Voynich Manuscript (for those of you too lazy to follow the link and learn something) is a late medieval text written in a language or cipher that has yet to be broken. No one knows what it says, the only clues being the many illustrations and illuminations of plants, cosmological bodies, and naked ladies in round baths.

** Geoffroi de Charney was a great French Knight (he was a card carrying member of the Order of the Star, which was formed to compete with Edward III's Order of the Garter), who was taken captive in battle twice and ransomed handsomely. He died clutching the French King's banner in his hand. He also wrote three books about chivalry in his lifetime, and was possibly the first owner of the Shroud of Turin.

Englysshe hoe Ich luvve thee... (or, why medieval literature?)

2010-09-07T09:35:00.002+03:00

Medieval Book from Cluny

Once I've somehow gotten past the labyrinthine question of "why on earth would you want a holy grail?" the next question is usually "you want to get a holy grail in WHAT????" (if you have any visualization skills, imagine shocked and befuddled expression, including protruding eyes, raised eyebrows, and the general impression that the speaker is desperately trying to remember the name of a good psychiatrist so I can be committed to the nearest mental "rest" facility poste haste).

I don't blame them. Honestly I don't. After all, there aren't that many subjects more obscure than medieval English literature*. There are several languages that a medieval lit scholar must know (and most are dead languages with no modern usefulness, such as Latin, and Occitan French, and Anglo-Saxon, and for Arthurian scholars like myself, medieval Welsh - a language barely spoken in its modern form, barring Welsh-speaking television and numerous signs proclaiming that you have entered Cymru when you cross the river Severn bridge in the UK, let alone how it was spoken and written approximately 1000-700 years ago), we are interested in why an anonymous poet who may or may not have written a collection of four poems found together in a manuscript** used a literary device called alliteration while still rhyming the bob and wheel of the poetic stanzas (compared to other poets who did one or the other), and was there really an alliterative revival in the fourteenth century, or are all the alliterative poems between Anglo-Saxon England and the fourteenth century just lost to decay, rot, and the plague? And speaking of the plague, how did that affect the creation of literature, and what did the medieval public even think literature was? Very important questions to the medieval literature scholar (those, and of course, many more, including many questions about Margery Kempe, a noted female religious hysteric, Chaucer, who could possibly be termed as the "Delirious" and "Raw" period Eddie Murphy of the fourteenth century (for a post-modern take on Chaucer, see Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog - which is definitely what he would sound like if he ever was exposed to the blogging phenomenon...), his not quite as famous friend Gower, and various questions and probes regarding William Langland and the numerous versions he wrote of Piers Plowman***. So yes, we're an odd bunch, and not many people care about what we do (although, there are enough medievalists in the world to rate some spectacularly large conferences, especially the International Congress on Medieval Studies at Kalamazoo).

Image from Nero Cotton A.x manuscript

There also appears to be some misconception that medieval scholars abhor anything modern, i.e. we walk with a little furry animal on our shoulder and would rather live in a hut in the woods cooking a stew in a large iron pot over an open fire than in a house with all modern amenities (such as a really good stove, central air and heat, and a super refrigerator that also makes ice cubes and is smart enough to not turn your vegetables into ice and your butter into mush), and have bumper stickers on the back of our cars claiming that we would "rather be jousting." This is not true (although it may be about the bumper stickers. I haven't really checked). Most of the medievalists I know of (not many, I am the first to admit, but a few) are highly computer literate, enjoy modern comforts as much as the next person (perhaps more. After staring at manuscripts all day, there is nothing more satisfying than a warm house, some mac and cheese, and blasting several million aliens/monsters/cyborgs out of existence on your computer), and do not live in the middle of the woods.

So, in short, I, as an aspiring medievalist, do not wish to renounce all things modern. I love my new laptop, could not live without my food processor (why chop onions by hand when you can just bang them in there and see them get chopped up mechanically?), I love going to the movies, I can't wait to get the latest techie gadget (currently the iPad and the iPhone), I'm quite enamored of human, civil, and female rights, and am extremely fond of pop-culture icons such as The Simpsons, American Dad, not to mention House M.D. (Hugh Laurie rules). So the fact that I ardently wish to study and research medieval literature (and all other things medieval, such as history, art, religion, philosophy, Latin, and perhaps the odd Alchemical treatise here and there, just to keep things interesting), and enjoy going to see Shakespeare performed at the restored Globe (they have very modern toilets, you know!), does not mean that I wish to live in the middle ages. In fact, I'd rather not. The Church would have a field day with me. A Jewish Female Scholar (and a quarter Irish to boot - the English would have had a lovely time torturing me...)?? Thanks, but no thanks. And yet... I love reading about the middle ages, and reading the literature written, exploring the intricacies of the social order, the chivalric code, Elanor of Aquitaine's Court of Love, and of course, everything Arthur related, from seventh century Wales to Malory. It's just one of those things.

My literary interests aren't limited to medieval literature, obviously. If there is a god, I name him Shakespeare, if there is a Goddess, I name her Austen. I've lately developed (due to the subject GRE, taken in April) a serious crush on Coleridge, Keats, and Byron. My honors thesis centered around Anglo-Welsh children's literature (all written after the seventh decade of the twentieth century). And I honestly believe that Neal Stephenson and Michael Chabon are the greatest modern writers actively publishing today (of course, I neglected to mention many other notable contemporary writers, including my two all-time favorites, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, whose work makes me laugh out loud and dream exquisite dreams at night). But for some odd, inexplicable, ineffable reason, digging into texts such as Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and Malory's Morte Darthur just... makes me happy. I get excited about learning stuff like Latin, Paleography, and History of the Book. And there is a room in the National Gallery in London that I just love sitting in, which is filled with medieval paintings of the Madonna with Child. I can sit there all day****.

So I suppose that the final answer to the pop-eyed and dropped jaw question is - I want to find a holy grail in medieval literature because that is what I'm most passionate about*****. And if pursuing a holy grail (which requires quite a lot of passion in the first place), you may as well go for what really makes for a When Harry met Sally Katz's Diner moment (only for real). After all, the amount of work and dedication is gruelingly mountainous (about the size of 3-6 Everests), the pitfalls are numerous (especially Fire Swamp sand pits lurking around every corner), and the stipends are minuscule (peanut-size comes to mind). You had better be doing exactly what you love the most. For me - it's medieval lit (with a pinch of Early Modern for spice).

Next time - I swear it will be an entry about revising the statement of purpose. Really. Unless I get distracted by a plundering barbarian Horde (a surprisingly likely occurrence in 21st Century Israel).

*Although obscure doesn't mean unimportant and insignificant, mind you!
** This is, of course, the Gawain Poet, or the Pearl Poet as some know him, who is assumed to have written Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Pearl, Patience, and Cleanliness, four poems which were found bound together in the Cotton Nero A.x manuscript. Just FYI.
*** writing a manuscript in the middle ages appears to have been work that consumed you for your entire life. Chaucer never quite managed to finish The Canterbury Tales, croaking before all the pilgrims managed to tell their tales, and Langland seems to have revised Piers Plowman various times during his life, never quite being satisfied with the results. Authors and their perfectionism be blasted!
**** Seriously I can. One time I even did. I sat in that room for 5 hours soaking up the Madonna vibes and writing in my journal.
***** This includes, of course, how medieval literature can still be relevant today.

The Million Dollar Question: The Chicken or the Egg (or Why a Queste for a Holy Grail, anyway?)

2010-09-05T12:21:00.001+03:00

The Chicken or the Egg? (rather, the Cock or the Hen in this case...)

Procrastinating writing the second draft of my SOP is a highly productive endeavor. It provides me with ample time to add continual posts that help me avoid actually sitting down and illuminating my text properly (i.e. perhaps find new essential quote so it starts with a Genesis-like-bang - after all, who can top "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth"? especially if we ignore the second sentence...).

As an expert procrastinator* (revision 2 of SOP has now officially been postponed to this upcoming weekend, after which I am sure I will postpone it again to Yom Kippur, when I will supposedly have no distractions, and complete peace and quiet. My laptop has arrived, but my wireless home network is not operational yet, which is as good as an excuse as any to not do work this upcoming long weekend), I have decided to address the all important question that is asked of every PhD applicant around the world, when they proudly announce their plans of pursuing the Sangraal: "Why on earth are you going to do that?" It appears that the majority of the population, be they educated or not, think that we are completely and utterly insane, whether we are planning on questing after a Holy Grail in Political Science, String Theory (i.e. Physics) or in something as utterly impractical as Medieval literature.

Being a magnanimous human being, filled with charity and goodwill to my fellow man, I have decided to try and break down why I'm searching for the Holy Grail (I can't really speak for anyone else, after all). There are various reasons for this endeavor. However, first, there must be several disclaimers and protestations against the following rationalizations for going on said Queste:

Questing after the Holy Grail does not mean that I can't deal with the "real world" (although several people may protest to the contrary). I just much prefer Academia** for numerous reasons.
Questing after the Holy Grail does not mean that I will revert to a "student lifestyle" for the next 6-7 years. Sorry to disillusion you. PhD students will usually be found muttering to themselves in the library while taking copious amounts of notes and typing away furiously on their laptops, or chugging illegal amounts of coffee while grading freshman comp papers, rather than at the local keg party. Questing is a full-time job. Just like any other job. Except it's more flexible, and I get to study things I enjoy rather than proofreading Hebrish (i.e. Writing in English but with Hebrew Syntax) documents or writing Technical User Guides for the Start-Up I work for.


The Average Graduate Student (medieval style)?

So since I'm not attempting to escape the horrors of the "real world" (no, not even the MTV version of The Real World, which has nothing whatsoever to do with the "real world," at least as I know it), nor am I attempting to revert back to the glory of Undergraduate days, in which the nearest smoke-able substance/party/concert was a phone call away, why oh why am I subjecting myself to the humiliation of applying to said Queste (and most likely contributing to the amusement & laughter of Senior Knights of the Adcomm Round Table)????

Yes, well, hmm.

That's a good question. Truly it is. And it's also one of those questions that you really have to know the answer for before beginning the application process***. My answer is relatively simple, at least in its core:

I can't imagine doing anything else for the next 30-40 years. While the Holy Grail is the PhD itself, it's what comes after I find it that really gets me all riled up and fluttery with excitement. I want to teach. And research. And bury my nose in 700 year-old manuscripts and examine their marginalia, while passionately debating the niceties and nuances of Gawain's chivalrous character in English Romances, vs. how boorishly he is portrayed by the French**** (of course, the French would take the Best of Knights and insert that pansy Lancelot instead, I mean really, who goes stark raving mad in the woods just because that spoiled Guinevere cuts him off????). I hope to inspire Freshmen to adore the English language (and inspire upperclassmen English majors to concentrate on Medieval and Early Modern literature, of course). This is what I love above all else. And attaining the Holy Grail will enable me to do what I love for the rest of my life*****.

Of course, this is still not enough of a reason for some. Doing what we love for the rest of our lives appears to be small-time compared to retiring with a boat, five houses in the Caribbean******, a Castle in Scotland (perhaps even a bought hereditary title to go along with it...), and possibly a small south American country that was for sale. Obviously, compared to that, a life thanklessly toiling away in academia, flunking freshmen and fighting with scholarly presses about the exact deadline your latest book must be published by, seems insignificant. And since my particular field of literature doesn't exactly save lives (unlike medical research doctors, for example), there isn't a lot of altruistic "saving mankind" reasoning behind it. Except that maybe there is. College for me was a wonderful experience, not because of the smokable substances/kegs, but because I learned how to use my mind, and I found out that I love to learn. If I can give even just a portion of what I received to just 10 students in my entire career, I think I'll feel good about it. I may not save lives, but I just might save some minds from the abyss of the lowest common denominator. I might just get them to really think, analyze, and critique their surroundings and their lives. That's a lofty enough goal for me.

* I really mean it. I finished my last draft of my honors thesis at 5:00 AM the morning it was due. And I still check my student's essays the morning of the class, poor things.
** not that Academia isn't the real world. There are plenty of deadlines, pressure, climbing the academic ladder, backstabbing, and University Politics - yes, it deserves the capitalization - to contend with in an Academic's career. Not to mention the Publication & Conference Rat-Race. My dad is a professor at Brown. I know.
*** Or your SOP will end up reading like Old French Merde.
**** For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, no matter. You'll hear about it a lot if you continue reading.
***** Obviously, this is assuming that I get a tenure-track job after the Holy Grail has been attained, which in today's academic job market is no certain thing....
****** Of course, no one mentions the bleeding ulcer, kidney stones, and 2 heart attacks that precede this type of retirement.

Illuminating the Text with Jousting Monkeys (or more accurately, how to write your Statement of Purpose without losing your mind completely)

2010-09-02T09:12:00.002+03:00

Ok, so it's a Jousting Monkey King (and not quite medieval, but who cares?)

I finished the first draft of my Manuscript Illumination (hereafter known as "that awful SOP that should be eternally burned in the Dante'esque fires of the ninth circle of Hell"), and am stalling, procrastinating, and trying to distract myself completely from beginning work on the second draft*. My beloved Palfrey Mare, has of course, been quite helpful in this endeavor, by supplying me with external distractions that provided me with the perfect excuse to not sit down and actually illuminate (even if it's only monkeys). The first distraction was a nice long bout of the 'flu (with medieval proportions of self-pity i.e. "I have a fever so will not go out and tend to my crops, and be damned the Earl-of-Somewhere-or-Another*** for his high tithes!!!"). The second distraction was the delayed "special express courier" (whom I think misunderstood his own job title) who has been inexplicably delayed in furnishing me with my brand new laptop (without which, of course, I refuse to perform revisions, since my old computer is just not good enough for the job****).

The current and third distraction (which should actually be non-distracting, since it's at least an academic distraction) is daydreaming about the International Congress of Medieval Studies in Kalamazoo that I might be attending (and presenting a paper in) in May 2011. Very exciting stuff. My first conference, first paper presentation (obviously, I'm not counting the two hour talk I gave on the evolution of the Arthurian Legend - including slide show and Monty Python quotes - in FantasyCon, Tel Aviv, in 2007, since I doubt that there was an actual medieval scholar in the audience), so all thoughts of continuing to illuminate my SOP have gone down the (medieval) drain. (Question, were there drains in medieval architecture? Authorities say yes.)

This is, of course, not counting the normal day-to-day distractions provided by my trusty Palfrey Mare - my primary job (in which I mostly use the time to complete other necessary things, such as composing this blog), my secondary job (in which I try to hammer as much esoteric protection against the Demons of SAT & GRE into my student's brains as possible, including marking up their juvenile attempts at essays with occult symbols that would have made Newton proud), and my tritary job (which involves the general English education of a ninth grader, which I will no longer mention, since it gives me a headache just to think about it). Jobs aside, there is the more generalized distraction of my Palfrey Mare bucking and trying to hurl me off her back continuously, since she seems to be quite opposed to my newly discovered "I'm taking you in hand" approach (my not-so-trusty Palfrey Mare seems to think that she's in charge. I haven't managed to disabuse her of that notion quite yet).

Illumination - Animals Jousting ( from the Macclesfield Psalter MS)

However, back to the SOP, filled with illuminations of wisdom and beauty (such as various animals jousting away at each other*****). I, taking my cue from a successful applicant to Berkeley's History PhD, began the SOP with a quote. It was a good quote, from a well respected Arthurian scholar (hurrah for R.S. Loomis, RIP!). Obviously, I thought I was very clever in finding the perfect quote that guides my passion for the Arthurian legend, and perhaps gives those Senior Knights in the Adcomm Round Table an idea of why I want to pursue the Holy Grail and focus my quest on everything Arthur. Reading the SOP again, however, I realized that a large part of my research interests was overlooked by this quote (i.e. the Crusades and Crusading literature), and that now I'm not quite sure how to incorporate them back in. Also, it's way too long (nearly 3 pages). And I make the unfortunate mistake of baldly stating that I hope to follow in C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein's footsteps (since they were both Medieval Lit professors, and wrote fiction, sometimes for children). It has been pointed out to me that it is completely gauche to state this, since their scholarship is a. utterly outdated, and b. they're old white dudes that didn't appreciate queer theory or the new groundbreaking Medieval deconstructionist theories. So now, I am reconsidering just about everything I've written (while actively procrastinating).

So how can it be done? Is it even possible to write an SOP without going completely insane, throwing a massive hissy fit (i.e. "May those Senior Knights at @insert Order of Knights here@ be cursed to the end of all days, this is worse than being stuck in an Iron Maiden for a year, and I don't want a Holy Grail after all! I just want to stay home and watch House M.D. and Grey's Anatomy and eat as much Ben & Jerry's Phish Food as possible!"), having a nervous breakdown, undergoing a crisis of confidence (a threat to any Holy Grail queste applicant, medieval literature or not), and giving up on the dream completely?

Supposedly it is. Many have done so before me, and have courageously faced the daunting task of grappling with the SOP beast. I try to take heart from their bravery, and to emulate their actions. Since the SOP is such an important part of the application scrolls (that, and the dreaded Writing Sample, i.e.The Fire Breathing Dragon), it is vitally important to write it well.

These are the steps I am following to get through this process with my sanity intact (and without my Palfrey Mare bucking hysterically to drop-kick me off her back, obviously):

Start early. I mean really early. If deadlines are between late November and early January, start in August. Or even before. I've been thinking about the SOP since April.
Let the SOP really "cook" and develop in my mind before writing a single solitary word (the first draft of my SOP was written after three months of thinking about it, and reading a LOT of research on Arthuriana, and then developing a brainstorm after watching Kingdom of Heaven - a horribly bad film, but that gave me some spectacular ideas - well, that and Geraldine Heng's Empire of Magic).
Find the perfect quote that encompasses passion for my particular subject matter as completely as possible (for me, Arthuriana and its connection to Crusade literature and to other aspects of medieval culture).
Just write the first draft without any internal editing.
Send it to trusty and patient friends for comments (obviously, these friends should have some experience with SOPs, and even better, your subject).
Revise. Revise. Revise. Re-think. And then revise again (in between revisions, continue bugging said trusty and patient friends. Cajole, beg, and threaten if necessary. If all else fails, promise to buy them many many drinks, and to hold their hair out of their faces when they throw up in a ditch after aforementioned alcoholic binge).
Send to professors who I've already bugged about letters of recommendation. I mean, I've already bugged them. Why not bug them again? Revise according to comments.
Make revisions according to school - after all, the SOP that is applicable for the Holy Order of Knights of Yale is not applicable to The Most Noble Order of Knights of Northwestern. Different Senior Knights, different aspects of why they can help me achieve my holy grail.
Spell check everything.
Proofread at least 107 times for syntax errors and stupid mistakes such as "I am applying to Cornell because" when the SOP version is actually for University of Virginia.

Of course, I may be completely mistaken. But so far, this has been the best route for me (of course, my SOP is not yet completed, but I'm planning on doing just as stated above!).

Next time - the SOP part II - the actual revision. Perhaps even how to begin tackling that Fire-Breathing Dragon named the Writing Sample (actually, it's several fire breathing dragons, but by this point, who's counting???). Hopefully, the attempted taming of my Palfrey Mare will continue well, and no wilde rydes will be thrust upon me over the next few days (aside from the aggravation of waiting for the so called express courier who is holding my laptop hostage...)

* including refusing to look at comments sent to me by my extremely patient friends back in the States, and not beginning to revise the SOP until ALL comments from my patient friends back in the States are in my Inbox**.
** Since carrier pigeons have gone out of style.
*** Insert appropriate title. Sandwich could work, except he wasn't medieval.
**** i.e. it has not been sanctified by the Pope, or given a relic from a Pardoner, or even prayed for by a Benedictine monk (let alone a Cistercian one).
*****Thanks to Carl Prydum of Got Medieval who has supplied me with many examples of amusing marginalia for this metaphor, and is always amusing and interesting, and has somehow become my hero for medieval-related-stuff blogging.

Back in the Saddle

2010-08-30T16:56:00.001+03:00

My Palfrey mare doesn't like me very much, and has been throwing me off her back for the past ten years (especially every time I considered a life-changing event which could, possibly, lead me back to school for graduate studies). Last November, however, after being fired from yet another pointless administrative soul-sucking job in the modern world of bio-tech, I decided to take my Palfrey mare in hand, and settle myself firmly as the driver and leader of our tragicomic sketch routine.

Preparing to take my Palfrey mare in hand

Obviously, the first round of driving the mare didn't quite work out as I'd hoped, and no acceptances to graduate programs arrived via the electronic ether (nor by courier post). It was, of course, lack of preparation and practice that was the main reason. It had been a looooong time since I'd even sat on the saddle, let alone gave my Palfrey mare free rein to canter (not to mention gallop). Obviously, my lancing and jousting abilities were extremely rusty. For example, I had actually forgotten how to write in academic language. However, in uncharacteristic determination, I decided to try applying again for Fall 2011. And here I am now, after an additional uncharacteristic (and unprecedented) decision that perhaps by sharing these experiences of taming my wild mare and learning to ride again, and having to be answerable to an audience of readers (well, hopefully. It is possible that I'm writing to the void and that no one will ever read these little insignificant posts), I will increase my chances of acceptance to a glorious queste and a circle of chivalrous knights filled with academic prowess, all seeking the Saangraal of academia - a Ph.D.

Knocked off the saddle the first time around...

The initial steps towards this journey began, unfortunately, with the horrible Demon of GRE (Appollyon is nothing compared to this one...). The Demon of GRE is a horrible creature, spouting math questions that I haven't looked at for nearly twenty years, and it's tongue was quick and slippery in its verbal discourse, sowing confusion and strife among test-takers. I jousted the Demon successfully (especially in our Verbal exchange), although the secondary Demon of Subject GRE did manage to get in a good hit in my chest armor, for which I lost some points.This step consumed my days and nights between January and April (while attempting to work in five separate jobs, now thankfully narrowed down to three), and the sigh of relief I breathed when it was over could be heard from Cornwall to Acre. I then proceeded happily to the second step of my queste.

The second step of gaining acceptance to the queste, is, of course, selecting the Order of Knights I wish to join . The past few months have been dedicated to this endeavor, with immense time invested in visiting web-sites, reading up on senior knightsto learn from (and be squire for in large lecture classes), researching taught subjects, concentrations, and so on. Concurrently, I was engaged in refining my research interests from the general "I want to get me a holy grail in English literature" to a very specific idea of what particular variety of holy grail it will be, how it's decorated, what it contains, and most importantly, what food will magically appear* when it is presented to visiting guests.

Proudly riding forth (take two. Or is it 200?)

This second preparatory step reached its final stages this past month. I now have a clear idea of my research goals, and have also selected the 13** most amazing, spectacular, heart-throbbing Orders of Knights to try to join. Some are particularly prestigious orders, with reputations that traverse the world, while others are just, well, damned good (despite their location in dragon infested areas such as Texas or Ohio, which I am willing to forgive them, despite the prospect of future exile into the wasteland, since they have Knights and Senior Knights galore that share my passions for Arthuriana and the Crusades). Here are the contenders that won my heart and mind: The Holy Order of the Knights of Yale, The Most Noble Order of the Knights of Northwestern, The Star Order of the Knights of Cornell, the Most Holy Order of the Knights of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign chapter), The Order of the Garter Knights of Texas (Austin chapter), The Noble Order of Wisconsin Knights (Madison chapter), The Holy Order of the Knights of Harvard, The Holy Order of Oregon Knights (Eugene chapter), The Very Noble Order of Ohio State Knights, The Duke Order Knights of Durham, The Southern Star Order of Virginia Knights, and The Order of Western Coastal California Knights (both Berkeley and Los Angeles chapters). All are something to aspire to (to tell the most sincere and honest truthe, I would be absolutely thrilled to study my knightly duties at any of the above orders, but am most hopeful about The Holy Order of the Knights of Yale, which would be a dream come true and a holy grail indeed!), and all can assist me to achieve my queste for the Sangraal.

Of course, the fact that I find these orders so appealing doesn't mean that the opposite will be true - in fact, in my darkest hours, I usually imagine a group of Senior Knights in the adcomm Round Table, laughing hysterically as they read my application scrolls and view my jousting and tourney experience (paltry, at best). However, determined to be optimistic, I am forging forward into the third stage (which will be described in detail in the next post. It involves creating the Textual Illumination, i.e. the dreaded Statement of Purpose, and taming the Fire-Breathing Dragon of Academia, i.e. the Writing Sample).

* One should never forget about practical things like food "you moste desire" appearing out of thin air while on a queste such as this
** Thought to be an unlucky number by some. I will attempt to prove them all wrong!