Mildly successful day. Read A Burnt-Out Case by Graham Greene, which was typically morose and witty. I've been writing up notes on new historicist / cultural materialst approaches to Shakespeare, and I was trying to justify those readings. Obviously there are pros and cons, but, it set me thinking, do we perhaps critique texts with methodologies they themselves demand to be read by? Specifically, is it the case that there is a stong historicist contingent in early modern criticism, a powerful deconstructionist / physcoanalytical drive in modern lit. crit., etc, because those texts compel such a reading? It sounds obvious being put down in front of me, but I've often thought of methodologies as springboards into thought really, of ways of unpacking texts. But if texts themselves facilitate their own criticism, then all of a sudden it's not quite the cynical exercise I think of it as. It just struck me with reading HVIII. Surely a text which questions its own historicity so keenly naturally leads to historicist readings. And Romantic poetry, engaged in primarily metaphysical, philosophical debates, creates readings in those terms. Dunno. I might have a proper think about it.

Met Dad for lunch at Balfour's which was really lovely actually. I have walked past that restaurant so many times over the past three years, but it was good food, good service, and good vibes all round. Dad decided to show me the pictures from the Maldives, and the only way I think I can describe them is as jealousy-inducing. Unbelievable beaches and snorkelling - I can absolutely see why they love it there so much.

I also need mention probably the best, most ego-boosting event I have had for some time. Picture, if you will, the English library. I left it, on the prowl for some coffee to perk myself up a bit. As I left through the old double doors, a huge crowd appeared in front of me, waiting for some kind of conference. I made my way through, and everyone went quiet. I kept walking, and as it transpired I had no business with them the following conversation took place:

Guy 1: Why did we all just go quiet?
Girl 1: I don't know.

-Pause-

Girl 2: He must have had incredible gravitas.

How's abouts thats to bring a smile to your face?

Labels: revision

"The circle of human knowledge, illuminated by the pale, cold light of reason, is so infinitesimally small, the dark regions of human ignorance which lie beyond that luminous ring so immeasurably vast, that imagination is feign to step up to the borderline and send the warm, richly colored beams of her fairy lantern streaming out into the darkness ; and so, peering into the gloom, she is apt to mistake the shadowy reflections of her own figure for real beings moving in the abyss.

Sir James George FrazerThe Golden Bough

April 2010 / May 2010 / June 2010 / July 2010 / August 2010 / September 2010 / February 2011 / April 2011 / August 2011 / September 2011 /

Fine by me. Or just fine me. Go on, fine me. / Revision is swell / First post /

The title of this blog comes from a poem by Coleridge, A Wish: Wriiten in Jesus Wood, Feb. 10th, 1792, Plus most blogs are moans anyway. Including this one. lol manuscripts

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I'm a 23 year-old student in London Cambridge London, studying English Literature Law. It's hard to really think of anything truly personal I can put here that might give you some idea of who I am, so I will just tell you that my favourite Shakespeare play is Richard II, my favourite chocolate bar is Snickers, and I have a bit of a thing for instant coffee, especially if someone else makes it for me.

I'm interested in Renaissance Literature, Higher Education policy, and libraries.
I'm completely in love with a Scottish girl.