A (brief) Review of the New York Times article "Why Criticism Matters"

Why Criticism Matters


The thing I found most interesting about this article, is that in takes into account ways that the internet is changing our profession. The times they are a changin'! While I don't necessarily agree with all of what it says, I think we need to be mindful of the paradigm shifts that happen with changes in society and technology. I think it's worth considering what we are doing when we say we are literary critics or doing literary criticism.

I haven't done any serious study of "mass communication" or mass like phenomenons, but they are part of our profession with or without the internet. Personally, I feel simply clicking like on a literary work, isn't a valid measure of how good or important a work is.
One of our most important jobs is to read not just the canon, but the works that are neglected, forgotten. To read contemporary fiction, to see where it's going. We may or may not convince people of their importance, but we can do our part to hear the voices that are marginalized, forgotten by the world, and even by our colleagues in ivory towers.

Update

I haven't blogged for awhile so here's a quick update. I'm taking a film and feminism class (the movies are...well...interesting....), a Mario Vargas LLosa class, and a Spanish Vanguard class. I was supposed to be in a contemporay Andean Literature class, but with the nobel prize and my professor's somewhat healthy obsession with MVL as he likes to call him, we are reading contemporary novels by Llosa. I have to say, I really enjoyed (I hate you Zizek for ruining that word..but alas) the book, though as any of you that have read one of his books know, there are parts that are very difficult to read. It's about Roger Casement, an Irishman, who investigates the actions of the rubber companies in Congo and later Peru. It's hard to read about what happened, knowing it's based on history. It really broke apart some of the stereotypes I had formed about Vargas Llosa.

Recent Ph. D Readings

Cool graphic, pending.
So I'm getting distracted. But I wanted to let my fellow hispanists know about an amazing book, La muerte de Alec. It's a Columbian novel by Jaramillo and it's got some cool pseudo-Borgesian detective things going on. If you get a chance, it's a quick read.
In other news, I just read El lugar sin límites. After overcoming my initial shock, I really enjoyed the novel.
And now I need to stop getting distracted and finish reading El falso cuaderno de Narciso Espejo. Ciao for now.

Ultimate Frisbee

In case you didn't see this on my wife's facebook page, I thought I'd share the laughs (It's by the lead singer of Nerf Herder, Parry Gripp).

The uncanny valley

So yes, I freely admit I listen to NPR. My wife thinks it's boring, but even she may admit that this is fascinating. I was listening to a discussion of the uncanny valley and thought it would interest my fellow post-human scholars. It talks about the uncanny valley and the problems of animating people who are too realistic (or who have creepy eyes). You can read or listen to it here.

And for those of you who enjoy the story from a slightly different angle, enjoy this cool bonus link!

The Sound of Silence

I was listening to this song before Cluff's class today. I've heard it many times. Those of you who have had Dr. Stallings will probably see why this caught my ear.

"Sound of Silence"

Hello darkness, my old friend,
Ive come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of
A neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

The line "My eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light" jumped out at me. Notice before the other words about eyes and visions "the vision softly creeping"

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.

Fools said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whispered in the sounds of silence

We then move from eyes to ears. The message doesn't arrive at it's destination, even with the flashing neon sign "stabbing" our eyes. I love Simon and Garfunkel. What poets!


Check out the song here if you need a refresher

Can we trust the experts?

After watching F for Fake I thought this article about Frida Kahlo was fascinating. A "trove" of Frida Kahlo's art was supposedly discovered. Some experts say it's absolutely authentic and others can "tell" from reproduced images that it's fake. I noticed that neither those who authenticated the art or those that called it a fake had very good grounds. It feels a lot like the Welles' movie....



Kahlo Trove: Fact or Fakery