The Fairie Queen Joins Facebook

In contemporary lit on Monday we were discussing Twitterature, the phenomenon of taking large classic novels and whittling them down into twenty Tweet sized tidbits or less. You can read some examples and/or buy the book they inspired here. Being the strange internet dweller that I am, I brought up Sarah Schmelling's book Ophelia Joined The Group Maidens Who Don't Float: Classic Lit Signs On To Facebook and how this might be an expression of the same movement in literature, an effort to make these dated texts a little more modern.

So, in the continuing effort to offset the effects of the Mondaze, I'm sharing with all you English major types out there something that has brought me a great deal of joy over the past two days -- The Fairie Queen Joins Facebook. The idea is courtesy of Sarah Schmelling, the characters come by way of Edmund Spenser, and the humor is all mine.
 
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Redcrosse has updated his contact info and changed his profile picture.

Redcrosse is now friends with Una and The Dwarf.
Redcrosse added "The Den of Error" to the Places I've been application.
Redcrosse sent Death to The Beast of Error. Die, Throw Obvious Religious Symbols and Papist texts, or send Death back?
Redcrosse hates small Errors. Hates them hates them hates them. The children of Error should DIE.

Archimago sent Redcrosse a friend request. Personal Message: "Hey, so I'm a lonely old dude out in the forest. We should be friends, yeah?"
Archimago and Redcrosse are now friends.
Archimago tagged Una in a picture.

Caption: Hey, Redcrosse, let's you and me hook up.

Redcrosse: ????!!!



Archimago tagged Una and Some Random Squire in a picture.

Una: That's not me!

Redcrosse: Una, how could you? I thought you were better than that!

Una: THAT'S NOT ME.





Redcrosse and Una are no longer friends.
Redcrosse is angry at Una. Stupid woman. Should have known she'd turn out bad.
The Dwarf wants to know where we got that squire. Something's not right here...

Duessa changed her profile picture and contact info.

Sansfoy invited Redcrosse to the event "Thinly Veiled Crusades Metaphor."
Redcrosse is attending this event.
Sansfoy is no longer online.

Fidessa* sent Redcrosse a friend request. Personal message: '"Oh, woe is me! You've won me from Sansfoy! Listen to my pitiful tale full of sorrow and woe!"
Redcrosse and Fidessa* are now friends.
Redcrosse is taking a break with Fidessa* and chilling out underneath this tree.
The Tree is Ow.
Redcrosse is OMG A TALKING TREE.
The Tree has shared his sad tale. Sympathize with, Listen carefully to, or Learn from the tree?
Redcrosse learned nothing from that story. Nothing nothing nothing.
The Dwarf thinks his master is an idiot. Possibly full of sound and fury. Possibly signifying nothing.
               Shakespeare: Hey, Eddie, don't steal my lines!
               Edmund Spenser: It's not me, it's the Dwarf.
               Redcrosse: I signify lots of things!
               The Dwarf: I'm not having this conversation anymore.

Una and The Lion are now freinds.
Redcrosse* sent Una a friend request.
Una and Redcrosse* are now friends.
Sansloy invited Redcrosse* to the event “Family Vengeance”
Redcrosse* changed his profile picture and contact info.
Sansloy wrote on Archimago’s wall: “Sorry about that, dude! Thought you were that Redcrosse fellow.”
The Lion is no longer online.

Una is very, very confused. And sad that she lost her Lion.
Two people like this.
Reader One: You’re tell me you’re confused – I was lost three cantos ago!
Reader Two: Seconded.

Redcrosse and Fidessa* added “The House of Pride” to the Places I’ve Been Application.
Redcrosse likes this Pride place. Although the queen isn’t very nice and didn’t give me any bling. I deserve bling. But I’m not proud, no, never.
The Dwarf could make a comment about the whole ‘pride’ thing and a certain crimson friend of his, but won’t.
Fidessa* sent Sansjoy a Token of Affection. Poke, Kiss, or Send a Token of Affection back?

Lucifera, Queen of the House of Pride, invited Redcrosse to the event “Death Match to Prove Your Worth”
Redcrosse, Fidessa* and Sansjoy are attending this event.
Sansjoy added Sansfoy and Sansloy as brothers using the Family Tree Application.
Sansjoy sent Redcrosse a private message. "My name is Sansloy. You killed my brother. Prepare to die."
Redcrosse sent Sansjoy a private message. "Yeah, whatever. (And what is up with your names???)"
Sansjoy sent Redcrosse a Fatal Blow. Die, Surrender, or Send a Fatal Blow back?
Fidessa* wrote on Sansjoy’s wall “Take the shield and me, too!”
       Redcrosse: Okay!
Fidessa* is Oh crap.
Redcrosse sent Sansjoy a Fatal Blow. Die, Surrender, or Send a Fatal Blow back?
Fidessa* sent Sansjoy a Dark Cloud. Hide, Flee, or send a Dark Cloud back?
The Dwarf is wandering around the castl –oh lord, that’s scary.
The Dwarf has tagged Redcrosse in the album “This could be you”

Redcrosse: Okay, we’re leaving now.




Sansloy sent Una a friend request.
Sansloy sent Una a friend request.
Sansloy sent Una a friend request.

Una wrote on Sansloy’s wall: “Stop trying to friend me! You kidnapped me and tried to do a lot of other nasty things!”
The Satyrs wrote on Sansloy’s wall: “Leave the lady alone, or face us. Capiche?”
Una is now friends with The Saytrs.
Una is now friends with Saytrane.
Sansloy sent Saytrane A Challenge! Throw a Glove at, Charge, or Send a Challenge back!
Saytrane is locked in an epic battle and will be busy for the rest of the story.



The Giant Orgoglio wrote on Redcrosse’s wall. “Hi, I’m about to kill you now.”
Redcrosse is weak…so weak…
Fidessa* knows that her evil plan is working.
Fidessa* and Orgoglio are now friends.



The Dwarf met up with Una again today! Happy day!
Prince Arthur is now friends with Una and The Dwarf.
Una tagged Prince Arthur in a note “The Backstory we should have gotten at the beginning of the story”
             Prince Arthur: Gee, that’s really sad that your parents are being held captive in a tower by a dangerous dragon. Admire me for my shining prettiness!
              Una: Yeah, I was hoping you could help me with that dragon business.
              Prince Arthur: Sorry, busy being the personification of magnificence! But I will help you get Redcrosse back from the Giant and HE can do that whole dragon slaying thing.
              Una: *grumble*

Prince Arthur saved Redcrosse from certain death today. That’s right, I’m awesome like that.
Redcrosse and Arthur are now friends.
Fidessa* updated her contact info.
Duessa changed her profile picture.

Redcrosse is AGGHHH! RUN AWAY.
Redcrosse and Duessa are no longer friends.

Prince Arthur tagged Una and The Dwarf in a note “My completely useless backstory”
              Thomas Malory: Say, this is good stuff.
              Edmund Spenser: Really, you don’t say.
             Chretien De Troyes: If copyright infringement had been invented by now I would sue you both blind.

Redcrosse, and Una added “The cave of Despair” to the Places I’ve Been Application.
Redcrosse and Trevisan are now friends.
Redcrosse and Despair are now friends.
Una wrote on Redcrosse’s wall – “What the hell are you doing? Get out of the damn cave!”
Redcrosse doesn’t know what he would do without Una.

Despair is trying not to be online anymore.

Redcrosse and Una added “The House of Holiness” to the Places I‘ve Been application.
Redcrosse and Una are now friends with Charissa, Fidelia, Speranza, and Caelia.
Fidelia has tagged Redcrosse in a note “Thinly Veiled Protestant Bible Exegeses Allusion”
Speranza sent Redcrosse a Piece of Flair – “Here, have an anchor!”

Redcrosse is chilling out with Penanace, Remorse, and Repentance.
Una is going to save Redcrosse from himself. Again.
Redcrosse and The Holy Hermit of Contemplation are now friends.
The Holy Hermit wrote on Redcrosse’s wall “See, aren’t I much more fun than those Remorse fellows? And oh, BTW, here’s your backstory.”

Redcrosse has changed his profile picture and contact info.

Redcrosse is now Saint George.
Una invited Saint George to an event: Slay-A-Dragon-And-Save-The-Day!
Saint George will be attending this event.
Saint George exchanged blows with the Dragon!
Saint George is still fighting the dragon!
Saint George fell in a pool of water. Bollocks.
          Saint John: Nice baptism metaphor!
          Saint George: I wasn’t trying, but thanks!
          Saint George: Have anyone of you tried fighting a dragon while wet? Just wondering.

Saint George is really tired of this. Just make it stop already. We know it was epic.
Edmund Spenser: Yes, but this is the first epic written in English! It has to be REALLY epic!
Saint George: You sadist.

Saint George was welcomed into the garden of heavenly delights today. Oh, Una, you make me so happy.
         Reader One: Okay, I give up. No one cares about the rest of this story anyway.
        Edmund Spenser: *is hurt*
        William Shakespeare: See, this is why I have more friends than you do.
        Edmund Spenser: Shut up.

Saint George received a friend request from Saint David, Saint Patrick, Saint Margaret, Merry Olde England, and Moscow.
Saint George joined the group “Patron Saints” “The Heavenly Choirs” and “Why yes, I am that guy in the Icon.”
          Una likes this.

Edmund Spenser tagged Redcrosse in a note “Needed: cast of characters for medieval-styled epic.” Also in this note: Britomart, Guyon, Prince Arthur, Merlin, and a bunch of other people.
               Saint George: There is no way you are getting me to come back for another book, Spenser. We’re through.

Case of the Mondays

So, it seems like the world is out to get me and everyone I know today. Huge exams happened, people were violently ill, papers got handed back with horrible grades on them, hurt feelings came to the boiling point, expletives were exchanged in large quantities and my afternoon apple was full of mold and tasted like lemon scented cleaning solution. It was just a bad day to be here, in other words.

In the midst of all this Monday nastiness, I have managed to retain some shred of hope that the rest of this week will be better. And in honor of all my long-suffering freinds, who could all probably use a kind word and a glass of something stronger right now, I am re-posting a poem I wrote a little while ago on the subject of bad days. I hope it is a source of comfort to those of you who, like my freinds, have come down with a bad case of the Mondaze.

It Could Be Worse

The days for frowning are varied, I know,

when the rain won't stop and your car won't go

The days that poets never praise

are the days that require my special phrase

It's nothing fancy, just four little words

to remind me my troubles are far from absurd.

When your brow is furrowed, expression terse,

remember this -- It could be worse.

Oh, some will rant and some will curse

I say only "It could be worse!"

I could be sick, or stuck in bed!

I could be hurting -- I could be dead!

The sky could be falling, the grass could be blue,

I could be small bits in somebody's stew.

My life's going forward instead of reverse --

I can get past this; It could be worse.

We haven't hit bottom, the end's still in sight,

There will be a stop to this terrible blight.

I have people who love me, and people who care

(and people who don't want me ripping out hair!)

So when your day stinks, remember this verse,

and repeat after me -- "It could be worse!"

Hyper for Hypertext!

This week I took a break from my typical writing routine to try something different, something so groundbreaking and new that I had to explain to every single person I told this project about what it was, exactly, that I was writing. Short stories? Yes, everyone knows one or two of those. Fanfiction? Okay, it's sort of like a short story. But Hypertext? Hold the phone there, buddy; what on earth is a hypertext story?

Well, Imaginary Rhetorical Device Man, I'm glad you asked.
In the process of describing a hypertext story, I explained it as 'a series of photographs no one will ever see in the order they were taken'  'a story written on notecards you throw up in the air and read in a different order every time' and ' a labyrinth out in cyberspace'.  It's a series of events  -- things like text, pictures, music, videos -- strung together by hyperlinks. The idea is that the story is partially created by its author and partially created by its user. When we read a text, we bring our experiences to it and interpret the text through that experience. Hypertext stories bring this to the forefront -- our very experience of the text itself will be different than our freind's, and that is the first thing we will talk about when we discuss the story -- the experience.

I didn't write the story so much as I built it -- I created a map where I wanted all my links to go and then starting carving out bits of trail where someone could stop, take a breather, admire the flowers. Some are paths that lead to more paths and some are paths that lead to dead ends you have to back-button out of.  There's music, some quotes, some pictures. It's not just a story, as I've said it's a stereophonic, mulitmedia event. (Much like this blog!) And not a purely textual event, as I've just described.

You can read the whole thing (or parts of the whole thing) here at Past Lives: A Hypertext Story

Graphic Novels -- Great Books?

Mmm, canon. A big word with a lot of punch. Add another letter and it will shoot you. Leave it as it is and it'll fill your English classes with misery.

The idea of "The Canon" has come up in classes twice in the past week. In Pedagogy, we're discussing what parts of the Western Canon  we should keep and which books we'd pitch. (The Scarlet Letter, unsurprisingly, was binned without question. Somewhere millions of high school students should be rejoicing.) And in Contempory Lit we were discussing graphic novels and whether any of them should be considered for entry into the sainted halls of canonical literature.

Like Sister Mara always does, after we'd considered if Persepolis (our graphic selection for the semester) could potentially be a canonical choice someday, she asked us if we could consider using a graphic adaptation of Pride and Prejudice instead of having students muddle through Austen's volumious prose in the original.

In my mind, this is a great question becuase it makes us consider two things --
1.Why are we having the kids read this book in the first place? Is it the complexity of the language or the plot or the themes expressed throughout the book or is it simply because we read it and gosh darnit, someone else should, too?
2.What do you add or subtract from the book when it becomes a graphic novel?

Thankfully, Pedagogy has already answered question one for me.  We continue to read the Canon because we want to challenge students with the language, there are supposedly universal themes we can find in classic novels, they discuss Big Ideas and by being 'foreign' to our students, they allow us a space to teach them how it is we're supposed to read, not just taking in the words but finding the meaning behind them.

Question Two has also already been discussed, this time in Contemporary Lit. When we read a graphic novel, we need to take on a new way to read, using the pictures in tandem with the text. When Pride and Predjudice (or any other canon book) becomes a graphic novel, it loses some of the language and complexity that English teachers love so much but adds images so that visual learners might be able to connect to the text more. To me it seems like the same process that occurs when a book becomes a movie -- the themes and big ideas should still be there, but in an abbreviated version. In the movie there is less room for the storytext, or plot events; in the graphic novel there is less room for the storytelling text. What we loose in storytelling text, however, we gain back in relevance for our students. Maybe Pride and Prejudice doesn't seem like such an old and out of date story when Eliza Bennet has a face we can see.

I have a different perspective on Canon entirely: for me, the word means what my English teacher mind needs it to mean, the accepted cultural representations of the Western world. But it also means what fanfiction makes it mean -- the world according to a specific author. In fanfiction, every text can be a source of 'canon'. To be canonical does not mean that it belongs to an elite group but rather that it follows the rules well. This, I think, is interesting -- in subverting the world of print literature and copyright, we've taken a word that meant something very insular and turned it on its ear to make it mean something inclusive.

I think if we as English teachers take the fanfiction definition of canon as our guidepost when we're choosing novels our classes might not be so universally disliked. Fanfictioneers choose their canons because they find them (or can make them) relevant to their lives. If we can do the same in English Class, using both the Canon with a capital C and the rest of the literature out there, we might get more kids on the reading wagon.

And who knows -- maybe they'll like the graphic version of "War and Peace" so much they'll be tempted to try the original...

A House Full Of Books

A big part of teacher education at Saint Ben's is the idea of the reflective teacher, one who examines her own experiences in the classroom as a teacher and as a student and determines what it is that worked and didn't work. So it happens that my assignment for Pedagogy this week is an autobiography of myself as a reader.
If any of you have been to my house, you will know immediately the wall to which I am referring in the introduction. As it was in my youth, it is full of books that have always dared me to build my own library.


A House Full of Books

My earliest memory of reading does not actually involve reading at all. It involves books. A whole, wall-wide bookshelf's worth of books. They weren't even interesting looking books, either; Mostly they were religious texts and the remnants of my parents' personal college libraries. But the wall of books intrigued me, and when I was old enough to reach, I pulled down a volume whose title I recognized (the Complete Sherlock Holmes) and began reading it. A heavy task for a girl of twelve, and one that thoroughly confused me. But I'd made some assumption early on in childhood about reading and what it does for people -- I'd made the connection that if you read certain books, people give you a certain kind of power. It didn't matter that I hadn't understood most of Sherlock Holmes; merely by saying I had read it people gave me a look of almost awed appreciation. (I re-read Sherlock Holmes several summers ago: I still didn't understand it.) It's a lesson I've carried into adulthood. Have I read Moby Dick, Vanity Fair, War and Peace? Yup. Now, ask me if I enjoyed them. Whole different story there.

I mark time in my elementary school memories by the books we were reading. In first grade I realized what I didn't want to read -- the  PeeWee Scouts books by Judy Delton. In every book Molly came up with a stupid plan and got into a lot of trouble trying to implement it. And don't even start me on Henry and Mudge or Amber Brown. I hated reading about people getting into trouble in first grade. The idea confused and annoyed me. I wanted to read about successful people.

Second grade was Stone Fox -- I remember reading the book in one sitting and sitting down to sharing time realizing that everyone else had only read the first chapter. I began to hate reading for school. Everyone else read too slowly.  If I finished my book I could start another one, right? No, Mercury. We have to discuss this one first. (Insert annoyed sigh from one small second grader.)

Third grade was The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I loved it, but we watched the BBC miniseries version and I remembered thinking "Man, I wish someone would make a better version of this." During my freshman year of college, Walden Media finally obliged me. Third Grade was also The Giver, and Fourth grade was Number the Stars and a confusing book called The Silver Crown, a text I went back to in middle school and still didn't understand.

But fifth grade...Fifth grade created a monster. In fifth grade we read the first Harry Potter book. And what's more, we read it aloud. (I'm twenty one years old and I still love reading Harry Potter out loud.) To get another chapter of Harry Potter was a privilege, a treasure, a new adventure before we had to leave Challenge class and go back to normal fifth grade stuff. Harry Potter was my hero, my savior...my friend. He fought dragons and his ugly cousin and had really cool friends that did really cool stuff. (I didn't start seeing myself as Hermione until middle school.) As Harry grew, I grew, too. His final book is being made into a movie and I'm graduating college this year. By the time he's done growing, so am I.

In sixth grade I remember being angry. This movie that had been adapted from some old fantasy book from way back when was stealing Harry's thunder. Budge up, Frodo Baggins, let the new kid through. In sixth grade I wanted nothing to do with Lord of the Rings. My friend (and sometime nemesis) Luke had already read Lord of the Rings and really enjoyed it. I didn't want to read it if Luke had. It wasn't until 8th grade that Tolkien caught up with me. Finally I gave the hobbit a chance...and fell in love again. Eighth grade I discovered that writing could have immensity, that stories didn't all have to take place here, with human concerns. I also read Dune that year and loved it, devouring the rest of Frank Herbert with the relish of a devoted biblogastronome.

A strong current throughout my childhood was the library. Every week during the summer, the worn maroon library bag was hauled across town to be filled with every kind of book you could imagine. As a kid I made a summer's study of every Cinderella adaptation I could find, or all the Irish myths in the children's section, or the entire works of Lloyd Alexander. Those were good summers. Filling the summer reading program timesheets was easy--  if you remembered to mark your hours down. It wasn't ever that I hadn't spent fourty to sixty hours reading that summer, because the chance was good that I had. I just didn't enjoy filling in the fifteen minute marks. Who sat down and read for fifteen minutes at a time? It didn't occur to me then, as it sometimes does not occur to me now, that most people take more than a day or two to read a book.

I took the library seriously because my mother took the library seriously. It was important to her that her children read, and at least with my sister and I, she succeeded. With my brothers it was a different story, but there are still some books that will tease them out of their computer chairs. Now that I'm old enough to drive I take our family minivan and the same maroon library bag across town to our newly remodeled library building, and sometimes, just for laughs, I'll descend down into the children's section and park myself in one of their big comfy chairs to treat myself to a picture book.

A lot of my memories of elementary and middle school reading have stuck with me as a reader because they highlight what and why I didn't like to read -- to answer questions on a test, to keep pace with the rest of the class, to address 'age appropriate' issues, or to inch through it a chapter at a time.  I had to read books deemed 'age appropriate' at a time when I was reading at an 8th grade level in a K-5 library and there weren't too many books to chose from with that wonderful little reader's rating in the front cover. And all this ties into the idea of CHOICE and SPEED. In my classroom, I will make every effort to make sure that there some choice involved in reading and the discussion of that reading. I'm going to work to find some system that works for slow readers and fast ones. I'm going to build a house full of books in my classroom, and I'm going to try my hardest to make sure that everyone finds one book that says "Wow, that character's my hero."