A Big, Fat Rant

[MichaelK]

To my fellow literature applicants-

Like many of you, I'm knee-deep in applications at this time. Thirteen, in fact. And I write today to vent. Consider this a scream of frustration and a sigh of bewilderment. I'm not going to polish this into a graduate-level discussion. I'm not going to stop and research my points. I'm not going to contextualize or frame my arguments. I'm just going to put down my gut reaction. And if that bothers you, stop reading.

Here goes.

First of all, the application process itself. The money that it takes to become a graduate-level student amazes me. By the time this is all done, think about how much you'll have spent:

1. GRE general (80?)

2. GRE subject (100?)

3. GRE score reports X 10 (200)

4. Transcript fees (100)

5. Application fees (600 or more)

We're talking about $1,000 or more, all for a shot at 12/500 odds and a 14K stipend. That's right folks, step right up, donate your hard-earned cash for a chance to get rejected. Or, better yet, step right up for five (if you're lucky) years of poverty. Yes, I know there are lots of students out there. Yes, departments don't have infinite resources. But you're telling me that all of this cash is really required? What of students who don't choose to work in the off season? What of those who can't? And what of the hassle of the applications? The infinite variety of requirements and application formats (10, 15, 25, 10 and 15 page writing samples). The begging and kowtowing to harried recommenders. There has to be a better way. Do you really feel that departments manage, from this chaos which generates so many similar-looking results, to choose the five, six, 12, 18 most deserving students? I think not.

The personal statement, for example. How much agony has gone into this document? How many days spent massaging it, reading it over and over again until the very syntax becomes ingrained in your head? And all for what? Perhaps you've forgotten to mention the star modernist at Yale. Perhaps you've phrased something they don't like. And when they read your research section, which you polished to a shining gloss, and which came out of a thesis you designed after being advised by a professor you trusted, they'll chuckle to themselves, "Hah! Posthumanism. Literature and philosophy. So 1990. We want something new." And they toss you into the heap, along with the others, and choose someone with a sexier project, with the right color skin and gender, who speaks six languages and was taking Greek myth while you were still watching Rambo movies.

AN ASIDE: Is it possible to be a white, male, publicly-educated, Ivy-league-level graduate student? Is it possible to like South Park, to have a social life, to not spend every waking minute of one's undergraduate life reading, contextualizing, catching up on theories that the field has moved on from but you should probably have a handle on, getting to know the latest articles by the professors at every school? Can that be done? Sometimes I think that to truly do this the right way, to be a scholar of literature as the academy seems to want us to be, I should have started when I was six, like Sir Thomas More. I should have been taking Greek and Latin, should have known my Cicero, should have memorized myths and rhetorical forms and all the rest. For so much of this application process I have felt as if I was playing that character, playing Sir Thomas, without the benefit of his education. Damn my upbringing for failing me in that regard. Damn the academy for demanding it.

Yes, the application disgusts me. The breadth of "required" knowledge. The number of hoops one must jump through to prove worthy of the chance to be a second-class academic for half a decade or more. But I'm equally bothered by the academy itself, by the project of literary studies today. When did the study of literature become science? When did "new" become necessary? What we have before us, ladies and gentlemen, seems to me a beast.

A simple question: are we better off today, as theorists, as critical writers and readers of literature, than we were in 1550? In 1890? In 1940? Is our project, is our product, are our discoveries, more useful, more exciting, more interesting than they were?

I answer that question with a resounding no. Let me explain by way of analogy:

In evolutionary biology, a major advance in technique is made. DNA can be broken down, formulated, calculated 30x faster than with the previous method. The data is at hand faster, the truth is revealed sooner, knowledge is gained with less time and treasure.

In English, a major advance in technique is made (we go from biographical criticism to New Criticism, for example). An explosion of criticism is written. Whole new perspectives are unearthed, great new plains of knowledge. But what have we really done? Have we stepped forward, as it were? Is new knowledge better, more worthy of our time and effort and passion, simply because it is new?

Think for a moment, about the theory wars (and I don't just mean the 1980s, I mean any conflict of theory). About the length of time, the amount of eloquence that has gone into defending and attacking critical practices: "mine is better than yours, mine is the one true way of finding the truth about literature." Advances in English aren't like advances in evolutionary biology. This fierce battle for new ground, fought again and again (eco-crit, war-crit, feminism, marxism and all the rest) does not profit anything at all. It only seems like so much posturing, so much ideology. So much time trying to prove yourself, and your method, and even literary studies, worth it.

What would I have instead? If this applicant ruled the Earth, literary studies would look something like this:

The importance of skill in teaching and research productivity in evaluating the performance of scholars would be inverted. For too long have we relied on the will of publishers and ignored the will of students. For too long have we been ruled by the assumption that the literary scholar's job is to speak a new word, rather than a good, useful one. If a Shakespeare scholar has nothing "new" to say about that great man's work, and yet has within her a greatness of soul, a greatness of intellect, worthy of showing the beauty of the bard's work, why should that scholar be denied?

All methods of literary scholarship, from biography to historicism to new criticism and everything in between, would be welcome. Diversity in critical thought, regardless of whether one's critical method is in vogue, is something to be wished for. This is not to say that all criticism is equal; there is a distinction to be made between eloquent, well-reasoned, heart-felt criticism and faltering, illogical, hack writing. Let the students, the community, and the publishers be the judge of that. But when it comes time to choose between scholars, let us not choose based on the newness, the hotness of research. Rather, let us choose that scholar who offers the greatest capacity of soul, the scholar whose intellect and capacity for emotional depth offer insights into a text, regardless of what method he or she may choose, or the newness of his insights.

END OF EPIC, STREAM-OF-CONSCIOUSNESS RANT.

[Swagato]

I enjoyed reading most of what you wrote until I reached the section following the quoted sentence.

What would I have instead? If this applicant ruled the Earth, literary studies would look something like this:

I think you make two basic errors here. First, you confuse teaching ability and research ability. One does not imply the other, nor should it. It is entirely a question of what the would-be scholar wishes to do. More importantly, it matters in what direction his or her capabilities lie. There are phenomenal teachers who are also mediocre scholars. And there are phenomenal researchers who are mediocre teachers. And then there are both. But not every academic should aim to be both. For the most part, we are at a stage of our lives when what matters most is our ability to demonstrate our research capabilities. Teaching is not the primary criterion here. Even when we are in the midst of our postdoctoral appointments, or even further on when we are on the tenure clock, research still takes ultimate priority (unless by that time we have already made the decision to seek out a SLAC teaching-prioritized career). Note, however, that while an R1 scholar would have not much trouble transitioning to an SLAC, I don't think it is nearly as easy for an SLAC person to demonstrate qualifications to transition to an R1 position. In any case, the main point here is that as graduate students, research is our life rather than teaching. And my own perception is that junior scholars should still prioritize research over teaching.

The second problem is in your advocacy for a sort of holistic critical field. This is quite simply impossible, and links back to your faulty comparison of literary studies versus biological studies. The nature of criticism is that over time, different methodologies and approaches arise out of different social and cultural conditions to engage with a certain central object. Sometimes, even this object becomes unstable. A great example is in my own field, cinema and media studies. For most of the 20th century, film remained a firm central kernel around which various modalities of discourse emerged: High Theory, the historical turn, the cultural turn, and so on. Yet from the late 1990s onward, cinema studies entered a fascinatingly exciting period, where the central object--film--became increasingly destabilized by the emergence of digital 'new' media. Far more than the advent of television, new media rapidly and convincingly made the point that film, in its celluloid avatar, could no longer be considered the central object of inquiry. Indeed the field now incorporates both classical concerns (modernism, critical theory, feminist/queer perspectives, textual analysis, medium-based approaches) and rapidly expanding aspects such as experimental video, museum installation, the moving image and its environment (Harvard's Visual and Environmental Studies program, for example), reaching much further back into history to excavate the story of the moving and projected image beyond cinema, and so on. Scholars like Patrick Jagoda and WJT Mitchell are doing brilliant work in expanding outward to explore images in our world, their social action, convergent/emergent media, interaction design, etc. The whole field is in throes, and it is a damned good thing.

My point in this brief account of the state of excitement in my field is to illustrate that unlike the sciences, which tends to be accretive (while incorporating 'revolutions'), the humanities weighs more heavily on the side of such upheavals rather than gradual accretion. Of course there are exceptions, but in general, situations emerge where, for example, the merits of Derridean deconstructive studies seem less stunning a few decades later due to a new methodology or approach evolving, which offers a far more rigorous yet expansive engagement with the material. In his day, Derrida was celebrated. Today, not so much. Innovation in research must be privileged, while of course vetting for mere gimmickry. While the sciences are data-driven, the humanities are context-driven. In the sciences, it is enough to uncover a new piece of data. In the humanities, it is not enough to uncover new data or propose new ways of seeing; one must also orient this with the field overall in order to demonstrate its impact. I strongly feel that the humanities should never operate in the blandly 'objective' vein of scientific study, but rather seek to continue its hermeneutic tradition while employing as much analytical rigor as possible.

[MichaelK]

Thanks for reading through the madness, Swagato. Much of what I've written is a bit non-sensical on further reading.

As to your first point, that I "confuse teaching ability and research ability," I'm not sure that I've done quite that. I think, rather, in a nutshell, that I am attempting to argue for the primacy of teaching ability over research ability. I should confess myself to be a utilitarian: I like to know why we do a certain thing, or why we do it in a certain way. And the reasons that I have been offered for the research-centered study of literature seem insufficient. This is not to say that I do not see the value in literary research: contextualizing works of art can lead to discoveries of all kinds - we learn about an author, history, psychology, women, men, love in this way. We learn important details about texts and their composition through manuscript work. Research, I would anticipate (having never taught) might strengthen one's ability to teach. But my point is not that research should be abandoned, but rather less emphasized. More than that, however, is my complaint about what kind of research is valid. I speak, of course, of the need for "newness" in research. When a scholar could no longer sit down at his desk and write, honestly, what he thought a work meant, or what he thought the proper context for that work was, but rather was forced (by the constraints of publishers, the trends of research, "popular" scholastic opinion) to write about a work in a certain way, that crosses a certain line for me.

A word about my metaphor. My point in making this comparison really goes to the question of truth. Science, for the most part, relies on an objective assessment of facts. And because of this, when a genuine advancement in method is made, the scientific community appears to move closer towards their goal (whether that's DNA analysis or an understanding of geologic formations or whatever). On the other hand, the humanities, as you suggest, are subjective. In my mind, the study of literature is relative game. To quote Rorty, "The world doesn't speak. Only we do." And, if we genuinely believe that, then have we really gotten closer to something when literary studies makes a major "advance"?

This leads me to the second point of contention: the "holistic" approach to criticism. I think a better term for what I'm aiming at would be, simply, pluralism. If, as I've argued, we are in a game of perspectives, of "speaking for the world" rather than searching for what the world has spoken, then it seems to me that we shouldn't limit ourselves to the tools of the moment. Your illustration about filmic history is enlightening, and, for me, partly convincing. That context - our time in history, social and historical conditions - demand certain tools take primacy...this is a strong argument. But, to play out the game a little longer, it just seems like we limit ourselves unnecessarily. Before us as scholars of literature are centuries of methods to bring meaning, to draw beauty, to form context around texts. And, I would argue, not all of these old techniques have lost their use over time. To read a postmodernist through a biographical lens seems to me a valid critical approach, just as reading Shakespeare through a feminist lens does. In certain cases, where the context clearly demands a change of critical method (as in the transition from celluloid avatar to digital) it would seem common sense to make that change. But I'm not willing to demand that the tools we use always fit the context of the object in question. Especially when that context (and the tools we choose) are predetermined by the literary, scholastic "powers that be."

[Grunty DaGnome]

So don't apply. Seriously, if you feel that way, why waste the best years of your life doing something you don't love that doesn't pay or even guarantee a job later.

[eriksmegs]

Amen, MichaelK. Amen.

[MichaelK]

A final point, which I think might be the real crux of the matter here. The paradox of the modern scholar:

1. Truth is relative.

2. But some works of critical scholarship are more valid (true) than others.

At least for me, these are two conflicting premises, both of which I hold to be true.

From what you've written, Swagato, I'd venture to say that you agree at least with #2, and that one basis you might suggest for determining which works of research are more valid than others would be "correctness" of method. If Criticism A employs a critical methodology that arises from a social or cultural condition to meet a certain object, that criticism might be more valuable than Criticism B, which employs a methodology undetermined by the social or cultural conditions which produced that object.

I'm not sure that I disagree with that basis. But I'm concerned that we allow "correctness" of method as a determining factor to become a definitive, requisite factor in the evaluation of research. Obviously, based on my rant, I've not yet worked out a new valuation system for research. I'm waiting until God calls to tell me to take over the academy to start in on that project.

[bfat]

I can definitely understand your frustration. The ladder up the tower is slippery, and the rungs are far apart, and there are many many flaming hoops to jump through on the way up, and there's a troll asking riddles who will shove you off if you hesitate before answering, and hundreds of highly qualified folks behind you waiting for you to fall. And even if you make it, you'll still end up making less money than a used-car salesman. It sucks a big fat hairy one.

The system is really broken, and I blame a lot of it on our flailing educational system. Everyone needs to go to college these days, and they all need to take English classes, so we clearly need good professors and good scholars. It seems like a noble and reasonable goal for someone who loves school and studying and their field of interest to want to continue on and bring that love to the next generation, or even use that knowledge in a different way. And yet it requires Herculean mental efforts and no small amount of luck to even earn the possibility of reaching that point. While public education systems are desperate for teachers, colleges get a hundred applications for 1 job... I don't fully understand how or why the system is broken, but it just feels wrong.

So I feel your pain... now back to the rat race.

[cquin]

I can definitely understand your frustration. The ladder up the tower is slippery, and the rungs are far apart, and there are many many flaming hoops to jump through on the way up, and there's a troll asking riddles who will shove you off if you hesitate before answering, and hundreds of highly qualified folks behind you waiting for you to fall. And even if you make it, you'll still end up making less money than a used-car salesman. It sucks a big fat hairy one.

I would just like to say that this is the most accurate and aptly-worded description of the application process I have ever encountered.

[Two Espressos]

A final point, which I think might be the real crux of the matter here. The paradox of the modern scholar:

1. Truth is relative.

2. But some works of critical scholarship are more valid (true) than others.

At least for me, these are two conflicting premises, both of which I hold to be true.

From what you've written, Swagato, I'd venture to say that you agree at least with #2, and that one basis you might suggest for determining which works of research are more valid than others would be "correctness" of method. If Criticism A employs a critical methodology that arises from a social or cultural condition to meet a certain object, that criticism might be more valuable than Criticism B, which employs a methodology undetermined by the social or cultural conditions which produced that object.

I'm not sure that I disagree with that basis. But I'm concerned that we allow "correctness" of method as a determining factor to become a definitive, requisite factor in the evaluation of research. Obviously, based on my rant, I've not yet worked out a new valuation system for research. I'm waiting until God calls to tell me to take over the academy to start in on that project.

I don't currently have time to respond to all your points in depth, but I disagree strongly with the sentiment (not necessarily yours, as you've heretofore stated) that "all criticism (or theory) is equal."

Truth is relative, and some criticism or theoretical scholarship is better than others. I do not think these statements are mutually exclusive.

Humanistic inquiry does not have the same absolute basis as empirically proven scientific inquiry, but I find the following maxim to be true:

"There is more than one right answer, but there are many wrong ones."

[MichaelK]

Responding to Two Espressos:

I'd like to hear more of your thoughts on this matter (it's a problem that I've been wrestling with, off and on, or some time now). I believe we are in agreement on the point your maxim sums up so nicely: "There is more than one right answer, but there are many wrong ones." I agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment, and would not attempt to argue that all criticism is of equal merit or value.

Rather, the two points that I've been attempting (badly) to get across are: first, an objection to the process by which we select the right and wrong criticism, and, second, an objection about the level of emphasis that literary studies places on research in general.

To the first of those objections, I want to suggest that when it comes to deciding what criticism is "wrong," (or, put another way, in determining the merit or value a given piece of scholarship has earned), we have become reliant on criteria that seem unnecessarily limiting. First, the demand that scholarship "fit" within the accepted narrative of critical development: i.e., should I submit as my writing sample an essay on Henry James which traces an element of biography through The Ambassadors, it is likely that an admissions committee will object to my use of an "outdated" critical method. Second, the demand that scholarship "say something new": i.e., should I submit an essay on Henry James' Ambassadors that, while it genuinely expresses what I felt/thought while reading the work, treads on ground already covered, an admissions committee will object to my regurgitation of old critical scholarship. Obviously these points are interrelated: "saying something new" in literary criticism often means employing the latest techniques to analyze a point of literature.

My point here is not to say that "newness" of research or an awareness of the status and trends in critical conversation and methodology are useless and to be cast aside. There is much value in both of these criteria: scholars must be aware of the conversations at hand to be an educated part of the critical community and I'm not entirely sure that research that fails to say something "new" can be rightly deemed research...perhaps "personal exploration or narrative with a text" would be a better characterization of such work. But my conclusion is that literary studies today have made these criteria (even for us applicants, struggling still to gain our footing) absolute and final requirements in the valuation of critical scholarship.

In reading the posts on this forum, in speaking to my literary friends, I wonder if there isn't a better way? Must all accepted criticism meet these standards? Must scholars who seek to be accepted bend into these hoops? What of scholars who (returning to my second objection, the over-emphasis on research) regardless of their skill at close-reading, their depth and complexity of literary understanding, their prodigious talents at teaching, are turned away from the academy because their research does not meet these standards? In my utopian, well-funded school, I want there to be room for such people as well.

[ecritdansleau]

To the OP:

It's kind of funny; I had a comparable melt-down last week in which I really began to question why certain things in literary studies are the way that they are and just how subjective so much of it seems. I actually think it's healthy to question these kinds of things. I don't agree though, that we can compare literary studies and science.

Case in point:Freshman Term Paper Discovers Something Completely New About Silas Marner

(When I first saw this years ago I immediately printed it out and hung it up on my refrigerator.)

It's hilarious to parody the humanities AS a scientific enterprise in which knowledge "accretes" because the idea is so absurd.

I think though, as one becomes increasingly invested in this process with a realistic self-awareness, one knows that there are just not enough spaces for everyone. And rants like those above perhaps manifest the impulse to harden ourselves a bit, to "what is so great about academia?!?!" because we are fearfully realizing that academia may reject us. But that's just an abstraction, anyway.

We apply because it's worth a shot, right? And anyone who has dotted all the i's and crossed their t's in order to be a competitive applicant (good writing skills, strong transcript, etc) will probably find that--even if this isn't the path for them *of course I cross my fingers and speak in the third person*--there are skills we've gained along the way that can take us far in other professions. Is the grass always greener on the other side, or am I correct in having the sense that--should one choose to pursue an alternate career (as a plan b from the English PhD), the other professional degrees one can apply for are considerably less competitive than what an English phd applicant has to deal with? Perhaps not at the ivies, but there are quite simply more jobs for lawyers, librarians, and high school English teachers than there could ever be spaces for R1 research professors in English literature. There really is an unfortunately bottle-neck. *sigh* I should clarify that I know none of these "other" jobs (lawyers, teachers,) are walks in the park/or "easy" to obtain (especially in this economy); but there are more of them, and thus they are considerably more realistic, practical, and perhaps more geographically liberating (as in, if you want to live in an urban area, you probably can--something a serious academic might have to give up if s/he only gets a research job offer in a more remote area.) NB: This paragraph was an attempt at optimism.

Edited November 9, 2011 by ecritdansleau

[TripWillis]

That Onion article is hilarious; I'm hanging it up in the adjunct office today.

[Grunty DaGnome]

After college I didn't apply to grad school because, in retrospect, I suppose I had similar doubts. I wasn't really sure what purpose graduate school served, I couldn't clearly figure out what I was expected to achieve there and I wasn't sure what I would contribute....so I didn't go. Instead, I worked all sorts of jobs; some sucky, some pretty good. Now that I am going back, it's with a very clear sense of purpose, an understanding that there is plenty of silliness I can expect in grad school, just like there is in every other aspect of human life. I'm also much less focused on the idea of great, sweeping, transformative discoveries, which is really just a recipe for disapointment.

I point all this out because I think it's normal when you are completely immersed in an academic environment for 4 years as an undergrad to not really have any objectivity on the process of education anymore. For some people, these are just that - doubts. They'll go on to grad. school anyway and probably figure things out once they're there. Some doubts are certainly normal and the application process is definitely very hard work that achieves an overall keystone cops result in grad. faculties nationwide. But if through all that you don't have this glimmer of an author or a body of theory or some period in history that inspires you and still seems even a little important through all the mental compromises you have to make just to articulate a simple sentence about that thing, then maybe it's not time to go to grad. school? My time to go was most certainly not right after undergrad, and I am very glad I waited.

Like the OP points out, applications alone cost around 1,000 bucks, and most graduate departments won't let you get in and defer. So if your statement of purpose is 99% done and your writing samples are 99% done and you've taken the GREs and you've begged for your letters, but you haven't paid the application fee, why not wait tables for a year, work on a rig in N.Dakota, volunteer to teach English in China and send the applications out next year?

Edited November 9, 2011 by Grunty DaGnome

[rems]

Dear MichaelK,

I've been planning on entering a PhD program for the past four years of my life and everything I have done up until last week was in preparation for this including traveling internationally and spending mega-bucks to attend international conferences, late-night last-minute projects that my adviser asked me to do because I can't piss her off all while developing a potential drinking problem. All of this to say, that last week I decided not to go. I thought about it for a while, and I made the final decision last Thursday that I would not be applying of PhD programs this year. Maybe not next year. And I can honestly say that this has the happiest I have been in four years.

If you wanna apply, go for it. If you think it's the best path for you then do it. But I totally understand your frustration. I totally understand your anger. I think that just feeling this way doesn't mean you're not a scholar or that you "want" it less than other people -- I think it means you're able to think outside that check box for a minute and realize how pissed off you are. And that's why I want to say "thank you" because I think you've just said what a lot of people have wanted to say for a long time.

However, I do have to comment that your vision for a preferred English program is lacking in one area and it's not any of the areas mentioned above (see? now that I'm not applying I have all this free time to read forums that no longer apply to me since I'm not applying. seems postmodern...) regarding the actual practicality or political affiliation of critical theory. What you say makes perfect sense and you're absolutely right that is the way we should be judged. BUT this will never happen because when you are a PhD candidate or a professor or, hell, even an adjunct, you are a COMMODITY for a university to make money off of. Universities only want you and are only willing to give you money if you will publish, and you can't publish just on the merit of being a very thoughtful thinker (sad truth, I know). If a university thinks that it's name will be in your published author's bio, then it will accept you. I think sometimes as scholars we forget that people don't just give us money for thinking of stuff or really liking reading because that's, essentially, what we're doing.

You're absolutely right as well to compare what we do to biology -- the only thing we do that betters mankind is that we teach freshman composition. You can give me some bullshit "we make the world see things and we're thinkers and the world needs introspective minds to understand blahblahblah." You read a book someone MADE UP and then you read theory someone MADE UP and then you apply your own theory that you MADE UP. And, quite literally, NO ONE will read it besides other English professors. Who does that help? What "good" does that make for mankind? You'd make more of a difference being a plumber.

Should we have English scholars? Absolutely. But should we expect to be paid and "give up" our lives in order to read books we love? No, and you're deluding yourself if you think otherwise. If you really love books, then read in your free time. If you really love talking about books, start a blog and connect with people who don't have profitable intentions in mind. If you really want to make a difference, become a high school English teacher or a social worker or a bus driver. If you wanna pursue an English PhD because you live and breath it, and you can't imagine doing anything else in your life then do it but don't expect to get praised for it and don't expect to ever be anything besides a commodity in the eyes of academia.

I also don't mean to say that it's a bad idea to get a PhD in English, but, rather, that the process is flawed, the way we teach is flawed and the way we pretend we're better than other people because of it is flawed. PhD programs are economically biased to begin with -- look at the cost of applying -- and will continue to be. With rare exceptions, only ivy-league kids get into ivy-league postgrad programs and so forth. The only people who get tenure track positions -- with a few exceptions -- come from the top 25 universities in the country. What does this tell us? Does it have anything to do with merit, ability, or intelligence? Probably not to a large extent -- it has to do with being able to market yourself or having a dad who can cut a check. You're not "smarter" than someone else because you got into a better program -- you filled out the forms "righter" than they did. You probably also didn't have to work a part-time job to put yourself through college on the side which means you have more time to work on your applications, study for GRE's and put the final touches on your writing statement in addition to taking course work or teaching (if you're already in a MA program). The system is flawed, and pretending that it's not is cheating yourself of understanding of what you're really doing.

End of rant.

Edited November 9, 2011 by rems

[MichaelK]

To Gruntydagnome:

Thank you for your perspective. Like you, I've been able to put at least some distance between myself and school. I actually graduated in December, so I've had a year without the every day pressure of this stuff. But, despite my moaning, and frustration, and anger, what I can't help but return to is that deep down I accept the terms of the game. I accept that to read and write and think for seven years is to live in poverty (frankly, I'm sometimes surprised they're willing to pay us at all). I accept that most of what graduate students write must be derivative, that it must fit within the critical narrative of the time we live in. I accept that the job prospects on the other end are crap. I accept that it is impossible to get into. I accept that I will feel always (or at least for years) that I am far out of my depth because I have not read widely enough, studied far enough, learned enough languages. This is the hand we have been dealt. And, despite how horrible it is, I'm willing to play it.

The reason I'm still applying this season is because I went home after graduating in December and dove into works of critical theory that I hadn't read before. I couldn't help myself. I started reading Henry James. I started in on the GRE subject test material and read books I wouldn't otherwise. I love reading. I love talking about books. And I especially love doing it with people who are as passionate as I am about it. And the chance to continue doing what I love, even if it's at $12,000 a year, in the middle of the most awful city in America, with my research wings clipped down to size--even that seems like something of a miracle.

[MichaelK]

To Rems,

While I think I have a slightly less dim view of the value of criticism, I think your point about the influences of money and prestige on English department is well taken. There are reasons for the limits placed on scholars of literature, and not all of them are as high and pure as we would like. Universities care about publishing rates, awards, grants, fellowships, and rankings. And that pressure plays a role in what type of study is sanctioned.

[rems]

I didn't mean to paint such a grim picture of academia with that post! Upon rereading it, I realized how negative that sounded. Let me rewrite what I said above: I do think that if you have a true passion for literature than you should absolutely apply. I'm currently about to finish my MA in English, and after 7 years of school (I took the 5-year route in undergrad) I just need a break. Also, seeing things from the grad-side of things lets you into the process of academia a little deeper to see how it really works, and after being a part of it for so long I've realized that it's not the place for me at the moment. I didn't mean to deter anyone from applying or the like. Also, I had the realization that I don't like teaching -- I've been teaching ENGL 101 for almost two years now -- and don't think it's the best "plan" for me so to speak. I love literature, theory, reading, writing, you name it, but I also want to explore other avenues at this point and academia is very burdening to one's life.

[qbtacoma]

AN ASIDE: Is it possible to be a white, male, publicly-educated, Ivy-league-level graduate student?

Oh! So every program you apply to has majority non-white, non-male faculty and graduate students, and all the conferences are overwhelmingly dominated by the same, right? I mean actually over 50% of the academics, not just a casual "oh I know more than a handful so the field must be overrun" kind of accounting.

Honestly, what kind of a critique is this? I realize you had a disclaimer that you didn't think before posting this rant but it's interesting what you came up with in a moment of pure purge.

Is it possible to like South Park, to have a social life, to not spend every waking minute of one's undergraduate life reading, contextualizing, catching up on theories that the field has moved on from but you should probably have a handle on, getting to know the latest articles by the professors at every school? Can that be done?

This is actually more to the point of your problem.

[MichaelK]

To qbtacoma-

You're right, of course. Despite the efforts of the past 30 (or is it more?) years, the academy still has plenty of white males. That's one thing they're definitely not short on. But rather than evidence of some underlying racism or sexism, (which I hope you're not suggesting that I'm guilty of, because, though I'm guilty of many things, it's not that), I think the reason this came out is because I was summing up all of the difficulties of the application process, all the things that threaten my application.

These graduate applications are an important thing to me (and to many of my fellow applicants). Our careers, our dreams are at stake. And, whether or not I approve of affirmative action, race and gender are a factor for some english departments (Stanford, for one). After doing a tad bit of research this morning, I think my mentioning of these factors is the result of my applying simultaneously to law schools (which tend to have stronger affirmative action policies). But the point, and the reason that this made its way into my rant, is that my skin color and gender don't "feel like" the ideal of today's applicant. There are more scholarships for minorities. Departments almost all have statements encouraging diversity. All things being equal, I sense that a black woman might have a better shot with an admissions committee than I would. And I'm not saying that that's a bad thing (though a discussion affirmative action is worth having). Seen through the perspective of the history of inequality, allowing a passionate woman or a passionate person of non-white race to take precedence over my (white, male) application seems a just thing. Both groups (as we all know) have certainly been seated last for far too long. But, seen with unobjective eyes, with the pressure of having 13 (17, if you count law) of these applications before you, and with so many things that "could go wrong," I wrote my rant with the sense that my race and gender are one more strike against me. For this applicant, the process seems like a field full of those old fashioned bear traps, and race and gender are one more thing that might catch me before I can make it across. Some of the other things I listed here:

1. Errors of omission in the personal statement

2. "Newness" of research

3. Financial barriers

4. The difficulty of securing recommenders

5. General level of contextual preparedness

6. The small cohort sizes, the massive number of applicants

7. The importance of foreign language ability

For a more eloquent defense of using race in admissions decisions than the one I have offered, see this: http://merrill.ku.edu/IntheKnow/policyarticles/stewart.html

I do apologize if my statement has offended anyone. My reference to race and to gender was meant in this context.

Edited November 10, 2011 by MichaelK

[Sparky]

Michael, I appreciate that you wrote out of emotion and I get where you're coming from, but the entire point is that your race and gender have helped you get this far. In the context not of the "history of inequality" but *of your life*, they have been and are anything but a hindrance.

Sorry to be preachy, but--for those of us with social privilege in whatever category, it's at those times when we are most emotional and most passionated and most terrified for our individual fortunes that we have the responsibility to rise above personal bitterness. We're not going to end oppression if, whenever things start to go wrong, we default into "It's all about what's best for me from this point on, regardless of everything else."

I do understand why you feel bad about it. It's like your shoe coming untied the last mile of a 10K. You have to stop and tie it or you'll trip and fall, and all you can think about is how everyone else is catching up and passing you and it's so unfair. You don't bother to remember that for many of the other runners, the race is actually a marathon.

(ETA to make the capital letters into italics. This is not a post where I mean to be shouting.)

Edited November 10, 2011 by Sparky

[MichaelK]

for those of us with social privilege in whatever category, it's at those times when we are most emotional and most passionated and most terrified for our individual fortunes that we have the responsibility to rise above personal bitterness. We're not going to end oppression if, whenever things start to go wrong, we default into "It's all about what's best for me from this point on, regardless of everything else."

Well said, Sparky.

I was wrong to let my rant get the better of me. A failure of empathy on my part. Complain about the system, by all means, about the crap odds, the research requirements, the foreign language abilities, the financial barriers, but when push comes to shove I believe there are more deserving applicants than I (the marathon runners out there). And they should take precedence. Your suggestion that it is at moments of our greatest passion, when we have the most at stake, that we have the greatest responsibility (because we have the greatest temptation) is something I'm still learning, I'd say.

Edited November 10, 2011 by MichaelK

[Grunty DaGnome]

MichaelK,

Although you started off this post with a fairly negative view of literary scholarship after a good night sleep, it seems, you reversed your appraisal and began to argue its merits. It seemed to me that you began to argue with yourself a little, and then you slipped in that you're also applying to law school simultaneously, but only 4 law schools.

Could it be possible that you are still undecided about what the best course for you might actually be and you are throwing out a bunch of applications hoping fate will make your mind up for you? If that's the case, I really think you should take more of an active role in making these important life decisions. As you note, studying literature, culture and theory is an endless endeavor and unless you are clear about your purpose, the undertow of academia can draw you in and spit you back out again like a hopeless castaway.

Going to law school is not an effective way to avoid making these types of choices. Even though law school appears to be the more standardized option, you still have to chose a direction before you begin. You really can't make a solid choice regarding which law school you want to attend [and take on hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt in some cases] until you figure out what sort of summer job you're going to take between your second and third year, which you need to apply for the fall of your second year and your available options will depend a great deal on which region of the country you chose to attend law school.

I'm no psychiatrist -- I don't even care much for psychoanalytic theory -- but is it possible that you feel "disadvantaged" even a little persecuted, not because you're a "white male," but because you haven't yet formed your own sense of resolve and instead you're throwing yourself on the mercy of anonymous forces larger than yourself to make up your mind for you?