fandomhigh | Professor Chaucer's Office Hours, Tuesday

"Certainly, the first version I would have very little faith in, even if I paid close attention to it. With a droning monotone it's very difficult to keep anyone's interest for more than a few sentences. The second? Is far more compelling. It engages the audience more, and convinces the audience that the speaker himself believes in what he is saying, and it's that touch of...human interest, I guess, that will really resonate with an audience. Like me, for example."

Geoff nods. "And this is a point that's very important to oral literature. Presentation is as much a part as the writing itself. The most beautiful, most profound work can be utterly ruined by a bad reading, just as the dullest writing can be made interesting to listen to by someone capable of a good presentation."

Leaning back in his chair, he says, "All right. I've got two assignments for you. First, I want you to go into my classroom and choose a book at random, then a passage at random. Read the passage, decide how it makes you feel. And then read it to me -- but make me feel the opposite of the way you think the passage is meant to be taken. If it's romantic, I want you to make me feel angry. If it's a serious sermon, I want you to make me laugh. Your second assignment is the homework (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomhigh/543017.html#cutid1) I gave for class ~~which I am linking to just to keep this comment from going for omgever~~."

It is really probably rather unfortunate that Kiki opened Pride and Prejudice to the exact page where Mr. Collins makes his ponderous and absurd declaration of love and proposal of marriage to Elizabeth Bennet. She has absolutely no idea how to read it aloud - Mr. Collins would think it romantic. Lizzie and Jane Austen obviously think it ridiculous.

Deciding that Jane's derision is the 'true reading,' Kiki opts for Mr. Collins' earnest, logical, unromantic tones.

"My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly -- which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford -- between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh's footstool -- that she said, 'Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. -- Chuse properly, chuse a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where, I assure you, there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to chuse a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place -- which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents., which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure youself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

Kiki has nearly broken into laughter at least six times throughout this reading. In fact, by the end of it, she's nearly crying from the effort of holding it in. She sets the book down, exclaiming, "And he really thinks he's doing her a favor!"

Geoff grins. "Did reading it aloud give you any different insight, or alter your reaction, compared to when you'd read it silently?"

He's trying to hold in his own laughter, because it really is a brilliant piece of satire, and because Kiki's earnest reading especially highlighted the ridiculous nature Austen was trying to portray.

Wiping her eyes, Kiki answers, "It's certainly even funnier when read out loud in the way that Mr. Collins would have delivered it. Which serves to highlight what a pompous nitwit her really is, too. He actually believes everything he's saying, and on the othe side, Lizzie can't at all believe what she's hearing. Reading it silently, I interpreted it just in Austen's tone of making fun of Mr. Collins - or his type - but out loud as Mr. Collins would have delivered it makes him all the more silly."

"And there you see the power of oral presentation. Eddas, plays, ballads...were all intended to performed aloud, not read on paper. A good writer can bring across their meaning and the power of their words on paper, but a skilled presentation can push that power a step further for the listeners."

Geoff grins. "Then all that leaves is the written assignment. And the reading, of course. But those are both due next week." He gives Kiki a copy of the lecture notes. "Did you have any questions about the reading for this week?"

"Reading the Inferno? I think I'm all set on that. Do you have a preferred translation?" Kiki asks.

[ooc: Only because in HS, the mun argued with a fellow classics geek debating the merits of the John Ciardi vs. the Allen Mendelbaum (which I still maintain is the better). Oh yes, we were lit-dorks. Hee!]

"There's a translation available in the book closet, but you're welcome to read any one you like. We'll actually be discussing translations in poetry class, so you may even find it interesting to read a passage or two from different translations and see what you think of them."

"Great," Kiki answers with a nod. "I think that's about everything, unless you have anything else-?"

"No, nothing at all. I'll see you this afternoon in class!"

Professor Chaucer's Office Hours, Tuesday

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject