A Portrait of the Author as a Young Man:

A Brief Sketch of Jon Barber, By Zach Willis

Born and raised in Appleton, Wisconsin, Jon Barber has always been fascinated by technology. Whether surfing the Internet, writing programs, playing games, or typing papers for English classes, Jon’s passion for computers has persisted. This interest has been paramount in his life since he first enrolled at St. Matthew Lutheran Grade School, and progressed during the time he spent at Fox Valley Lutheran High School. During his grade school years, Jon also developed an interest in reading. Classic literature has continued to captivate Jon throughout his life, and he appreciates that English classes have offered an opportunity to create an even deeper connection between himself and the literature by writing about the ideas he has gleaned from his readings. Naturally, when it came time for Jon to look toward life beyond school, he immediately set his sights upon incorporating his passions into his vision for the future.

Upon entering St. Norbert College, Jon knew that his future was going to center around his two passions: technology and literature. Because of his strong interest in technology, Jon decided to become a Computer Science major, but to supplement that degree he chose to minor in English, which would allow him to pursue his interest in literature and writing. Since arriving at SNC, Jon has also able to pursue his interests by becoming an active member of both the Computer Science Club and Film Club on campus. During a recent “48 Hour Film Festival” put on by the Club, Jon contributed his own short film, entitled Alone in the Dark, which focused on the process of writing a paper. One sincerely hopes that the central character, a habitual procrastinator who puts off writing an important paper until the last minute, is not an exact representation of Jon himself. Even if this character is less of an exaggeration that we would like to think, however, it certainly does not show. Each of Jon’s essays provide keen insights and show an obvious devotion to creating thorough, well-written papers.

Jon’s first essay, a close reading of Henry James’s The Turn of the Screw, provides an interesting perspective on the main character, a governess who, according to Jon, wreaks havoc upon the estate and all those who dwell in it due, oddly enough, to her excessive displays of affection. Jon asks: “Is it possible to love someone too much?” According to his analysis, the governess is guilty of this charge, thereby creating a complex but well-argued thesis for his essay. His unique insight, which reads into the often vague and ambiguous nature of James ’s text, provides a fresh and quite interesting perspective on this oft-discussed ghost story.

In his essay on Chopin’s The Awakening, Jon accomplishes the difficult task of creating a male-authored, yet feminist-leaning, paper. Jon readily admits the difficulties he had in removing his own biased masculine viewpoint during his initial reading of the novel in order to replace it with a better understanding of Chopin’s goals as a feminist. This self-reflective essay provides concrete evidence of Jon’s considerable gifts as a writer, as he gives his audience a feel for the struggles he went through in coming to terms with Edna Pontellier’s awakening to independent womanhood.

Jon is also quite proud of his abstract, summary, and evaluation of two articles concerning the presentation of literature in the classroom. A considerable amount of time must have gone into Jon’s reviewing of the articles, as his abstract and summary are both very well written; his inclusion of key details combined with his ability to provide the information in a concise yet understandable way is a testament to his devotion to a thorough understanding of the articles. However, Jon’s evaluation is what he takes the most pride in. His prior analysis of “Taking Cover in Coverage” provides a firm foundation for his educated response, in which he refutes many of Graff’s suggestions. With sound arguments and solid proof, Jon is able to provide a clear analysis of the shortcomings of Graff’s proposals. The composition of this detailed evaluation must have consumed much of Jon’s time, but the effort paid off in the end, as this is likely one of his finest accomplishments.

The final addition to Jon’s portfolio is his New Historical essay. The Catcher in the Rye has fascinated Jon ever since he first read the novel back in high school, but it was the endless references to the work that he noticed throughout American popular cultural in the years since which convinced Jon that a historical analysis of the book could prove interesting. His essay pays close attention to how Salinger’s work has impacted society since its publication in 1951. Since his arrival on the literary scene, Holden Caulfield has become one of the most important fictional characters of the past fifty years, and he continues to speak to future generations. In this intriguing paper, Jon attempts to trace the ways in which Holden has affected society in the past decades, as well as to explain why he remains so popular to this very day.

As Jon begins to again look to the future, with graduation now only a year away, he hopes to find a career that will allow him to continue to pursue his technological and literary passions. Jon plans on discovering a position in the computing field which will allow him to also implement the writing skills he has garnered during his time at St. Norbert College. He feels that writing is absolutely vital as a form of communication; whether that interaction is written or verbal, Jon knows that his English minor will help him to express himself intelligently in any future business environment. Furthermore, the profound analytical abilities that Jon has gained will allow him to better evaluate anything that might be placed before him in his life after college, whether it be a work of literature, a business proposal, or even a computer program.

Enjoying the Ride:

Avoiding Platitudes on the Road to Self-Reflection

The act of creating an essay necessarily entails a long and arduous process which unfailingly grants me no shortage of mental and physical anguish. I just wanted to make that clear from the outset. Now, that being said, my decision to pursue an English minor is a choice which, quite clearly, will require a good deal of explanation. Let us see if I can provide a convincing analysis of my own thought process in this regard.

To begin, let me simply state that I love to read. From Shakespeare to Tolkien to Stephen King, there is little that I find more enjoyable than to have my imagination engaged as I am carried away by a captivating storyline. I also possess a deeply ingrained love of analysis, as I have always been one of those people who is not satisfied with the knowledge that, for instance, “It was a really great movie.” What was it about the movie that made it so “great?” Was it the acting, the dialogue, the plot, the cinematography, or all of these things? Once I have gained a clear insight into a subject, be it a novel or a film or anything else, I relish the opportunity to share my opinions with others who have conducted their own careful studies of the subject matter, hopefully learning something new in the process. However, although all of these observations are true, I must admit that what I love most about English courses is the immense feeling of pride and personal satisfaction that I receive each time the final version of my latest analytical essay rolls off the printer. Despite all of the pain and the many sleepless nights they have caused me, I can happily announce that never in my college career have I turned in a paper that I was not completely satisfied with, and that, in my opinion, is an accomplishment to be proud of.

How is it possible for these excruciatingly difficult acts of creation to end on so positive a note? Any thoughtful response to this question would require an in-depth analysis of my personal writing process, and since I have never been one to hesitate to over-analyze what I find to be interesting, I would be more than happy to walk you through my convoluted “process.” For me, contextualization is key, as everything begins with the work of literature itself, in my mind. This is why I have excelled at close readings (i.e. the vast majority of required papers) throughout my writing career. I will read an article or short story once, develop a tentative thesis which I find to be interesting, then reread the story, viewing it entirely through the perspective of providing evidence for my critical claim. Although this step of my process remained useful, the past semester was indispensable to my maturation as a well-rounded writer in that I learned how to incorporate new knowledge from outside sources into my essays. I was often forced to rely on texts relating to feminist or psychoanalytic theory, contemporary reviews, or modern critical analysis of a work, rather than merely focusing my full attention on the novel or short story itself. At first I was more than a little upset by this disruption of my traditional writing routine, but I have since come to realize the value of these additional sources in creating a strong final essay, and have thus incorporated their use into my ever-expanding “process.”

Analyzing a work in order to formulate and provide evidence for a given claim is the “easy” part. For me, the most torturous hours in the development of any essay are the ones I spend in translating my handwritten thoughts into a Word document format. The issue is not that I “don’t know what to say,” it is that I know what I want to say all too well, and I am never satisfied until the exact sentiment I was hoping to express appears before me on my monitor. If this means rewording a particular sentence a half dozen times before moving on to the next one (and it often does), then so be it. Although this may result in a first attempt at an essay requiring an entire night to formulate, the upside to my obsessive compulsion is that my “rough” drafts generally end up appearing as carefully constructed as the first or second revisions of many of my peers.

This fact no doubt goes a long way toward explaining why revision is the stage of my process that I have always felt a true passion for. After letting a rough draft sit overnight, I will return to the paper with enthusiasm the following day. After offering up a brief prayer to help focus my attention and clear my mind of any distractions, I will crack open an ice-cold bottle of Mountain Dew and start out on a long journey of revision which will, in all likelihood, continue well into the wee hours of the morning. In my more poetic moments, I have been known to refer to Mountain Dew as my Muse, as even though it does not “sing to me,” it does do a marvelous job of both keeping me awake and getting my mind racing on new improvements which could be made to each paragraph. Fueled by the caffeine, I will read (aloud, whenever possible) all the way through a given essay four or five times, making constant revisions until I am finally satisfied with the ebb and flow of my latest analytical effort.

By this point you have probably come to an understanding of my portfolio title, Deep Thoughts, a Compaq, and 77 Bottles of Dew. Each represents one of the three steps in my process of writing and revision, and as they have served me so well over the past semester, I found it only fitting to name this portfolio in their honor. As I stated earlier, I have never turned in a paper I was not completely satisfied with; the four essays which follow are no exception. In fact, they may very well be the four works I am most proud of having authored in my entire collegiate career. Further insights in the genesis of these essays can be found in my brief introductions to each. With that being said, the time has come to embark on an introspective journey through the mind of Jon Barber. I sincerely hope that you enjoy the ride.

Evaluating the Evaluation:

An Ironic Look at “The Argument to End All Arguments”

In this essay, I was asked to compose a short abstract of the Terry Eagleton article “Introduction: What is Literature” as well as a summary of Gerald Graff’s “Taking Cover in Coverage.” Although these opening sections were pain-stakingly researched and carefully constructed, the real centerpiece of the paper is my heartfelt response to, and evaluation of, Graff’s article. In an effort to express my opinion that political and methodological debate should not be forced into college classrooms, I nevertheless create my own argument against Graff’s proposals, thus opening up our contrasting ideas for a debate that could, potentially, take place within the classroom environment. The irony is delicious! As a result, I have given my evaluation the equally ironic title of “The Argument to End All Arguments.” My greatest source of personal satisfaction in this essay was my ability to clarify what could have been a very confusing paper through the use of concrete, real world examples of each of my points of emphasis.

The Argument to End All Arguments:

An Abstract, Summary, and Evaluation

Abstract

Eagleton, Terry. "Introduction: What is Literature?" Literary Theory: An Introduction. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1996. 1-14.

Eagleton makes the claim that any definition of “literature” will be highly influenced by the value judgments previously instilled as a result of the deeply founded, socially ideological beliefs of a given culture. He comes to this conclusion after examining a wide variety of differing definitions of literature. Eagleton begins by pointing out that since much of what we commonly describe as “literature” is non-fiction, we can easily dismiss the common assumption that the only true literature is fictional. He next disproves the Russian Formalist notion that literature exists solely to “make strange,” and thus intensify, daily speech, on the basis that there is no such thing as a universal “norm” for ordinary language. In addition, he feels that literature need not be limited to “non-pragmatic discourse” (that is, applying only to the general state of affairs), since much that was at one time considered practical or functional has since come to be regarded as model examples of literature. Eagleton also argues that eternally relevant, “universal” literature does not exist. In his mind, even Shakespeare could potentially be replaced with more currently relevant playwrights at some point in the future. Eagleton’s final observation is that there can be no such thing as a “pure” critical interpretation of literature, due to the fact that no critic is capable of making any judgment apart from the prejudices instilled in them from birth by the ideologies of the cultural powers-that-be.

Summary

Graff, Gerald. “Taking Cover in Coverage.” The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. Ed. Vincent Leitch, et. al. New York: Norton, 2001. 2059-67.

In “Taking Cover in Coverage,” Gerald Graff makes a case for the integration of literary theory into existing collegiate English courses, based largely on the assumption that all professors are already theorists. Graff argues that an application of theory is necessary in order to negate the gaps between distinct periods and genres, thus ensuring a stronger unification of the entire English curriculum. Additionally, he is not merely in favor of exposing English students to the field’s oftentimes fierce ideological and methodological disagreements; he also wants to encourage these same students to play an active role in such debates.

Graff begins his essay with the claim that a majority of modern English courses adhere to the traditional “field-coverage” model, whereby a work’s background information and criticisms are left largely uncovered. As a result, precious little light is shed on the implications or social functions of what is being studied. The most effective solution to this troubling dilemma would be to incorporate theory into everyday English courses. When Graff speaks of “literary theory,” he is referring to any type of open debate regarding the meaning of such seemingly self-evident terms as text, tradition, and literature. It is due in large part to their isolation from this type of intellectual discussion that so many students, collegiate or otherwise, have been forced to resort to such aids as Cliff’s Notes in order to make sense of many of our literary classics. They simply have not been given enough context against which to judge their own perceptions regarding these works, and so feel that their only option is to rely on “experts” like Cliff to broadly generalize these stories.

Graff next shifts the focus of his essay to the widely accepted “field-coverage” model of English, in which differing eras and genres of literature are strictly subdivided. While this model is undeniably an administrative convenience, a careful application of theory to the model itself would reveal the inherent incoherence of this practice. The coverage model’s rise to prominence has been justified largely by its ability to regulate itself without the intervention of management, as well as the ease with which diverse viewpoints can be expressed. However, the extreme isolation that this structure all too often imposes on professors from differing areas of study is more than enough to outweigh any of these positive aspects. The discussion of ideas which subdivision, by its very nature, frowns upon has served to destroy any firm sense of community amongst these peers, and has therefore, in Graff’s words, “programmed professional loneliness” (2065). Furthermore, this overemphasis on division has allowed many crucial contrasts and connections between different genres and periods to slip, mostly unnoticed, through the cracks.