Noel Coward redux and litblogs

There is actually a connection between Noel Coward and litblogs, at least: at this moment just passing as I write and try to capture it and pin it down with words.

I recall listening with great pleasure to a library copy of Coward singing his own songs (on HMV label) a few years ago, and although I can't recall which song this occurred in, a repeated phrase has stayed with me. In the course of one piece, he was repeatedly interrupted (as scripted), would pause then say: "where was I where was I where was I?" in his clipped and meticulous "island" (the imperialist one) English. To this day, I've yet to hear any other performer do justice to Coward's own versions of his music, though I have managed to replicate this phrase fairly accurately not to mention frequently in my regular round of gadding about.

Now the notion of setting up a "litblog" (a neologism odious to the ear albeit convenient shortspeak for this particular genre of expression) has in my case seemed a bit grandiose, verging on overweening. The impulse arose from the desire to articulate -- in more or less conversational form --  thoughts, bewilderments, enthusiasms, perturbations, in response to the writings of others. And: not only writings -- creative doings of others. The criterion for me is the nutritional component, in the sense of the nourishment of my spirit -- for want of a better word. It could as easily be the word "soul", "mind", "being", "gestalt", or "is-ness".

Having sampled the variety of litblogs abounding in the ether, I feel comfortable knowing there are those who already produce discourses academic, newsworthy, muckraking, critical, personal, and I tend to look in regularly at the ones I have found to be reliably intelligent, good-humoured, and thoughtful. ("Intelligent" and "thoughtful" are not necessarily synonymous -- there are some definitely "intelligent" life forms out there with litblogs, not all of them "thoughtful" in the full sense of the word.) Once I figure out the technology, I will do the conventional listing of the links I like best on this site. Until then I will be hard pressed to find the time to pull together coherent and connected thoughts about all the recent experience of astounding creative activity I've tasted. I'll let others  keep the curious world "posted" about literary news.

CBC radio news included an item last week about blogs: "30 million of them!", making it sound equivalent somehow to the growing number served by MacDonalds. They referred to the term "blogosphere" (my savvy offspring sniffed disdainfully: "The term is 'blogsphere", and it's hardly news." ) and the report went on to mention employees fired from their jobs for the simple act of having a blog, supposedly because their employers were worried about candid comments about their workplace. In sum, it was the usual puff-piece that so often passes as news from the mainstream media with its clockwork devotion to "informing" the public.

Some other time, should I feel in the mood to rant about the shortcomings of the mainstream media, with regard to their coverage of literary or other artistic events -- and I consider litblogs to be significant literary happenings because of the exciting aspect of INFORMED READERS (I deem the emphasis important) interacting about literature -- I will first get a good night's sleep to clear my head, then will clear my desk and suitably caffeinate myself for the venture. For now, after a solid month of heady activity culminating this past weekend with an intensely rewarding festival of extraordinary new music, my entire system needs to return to the basics of just being, "just sitting" (shikantaza).

Before sitting, and allowing the recent excitement of past weeks to sift through my body, there are a couple of notes to make, in the nature of Noel Coward's "where was I, where was I, where was I".

One of them relates to the aforementioned (interrupted thought: a sudden downpour of spring rain outside my window -- no: make that rain becoming white stuff, not as solid as hail, but something resembling small white balls of sugar-candy -- further evidence that life is ongoing, blogs are part of it, the deer that my husband saw walking down our street early Sunday morning is part of it; now the downpour has stopped and left patches of white in the new grass, and "where was I?") phenomenon of "blogs", the cultural significance of which has yet to be digested philosphically, historically, sociologically, anthropologically, or indeed by any "--ally" to which Euclid's postulate, "The whole is greater than a part." might apply, I came across an essay, Open Letter to Heather Menzies, this morning while searching for further coverage of Maureen Harris's having been awarded the Trillium Award for Poetry for her book, Drowning Lessons. (There has been very little, and I intended to write more about the book itself, also about the two other fine books nominated with hers, but life in its myriad complexity forestalled my intentions.) Meanwhile, I have stumbled on a blog of interest, led to it by another noteworthy site that did congratulate Harris for her book by posting the press release sent out by the publisher of Drowning Lessons, Pedlar Press.

The "Open Letter" discusses the virtues of students setting up their own blogs as a way of inviting comment and discussion -- including from their professors and instructors -- about their individual experiences of course materials. Below is an excerpt:

"When I first encountered weblogs in 1999, I immediately thought they were a wonderful venue for thinking out loud; here was a personal yet public space to hash out ideas and pose questions. For the shy undergraduate without the confidence to stick up her hand in front of her classmates or to step into a professor's office (an act that requires a lot of chutzpah), there are no venues for scholarly communication other than the requisite essay and the exam. I'm currently of the belief that we should never ask an undergraduate to read something without also asking her to write something. Weblogs can be a venue for that kind of regular contemplative thought and critical writing. This is a venue that can be easily monitored by TAs, instructors, other students in the class, subject librarians, guest lecturers, interested faculty and graduate students, or even the authors of the week's readings. Since weblogs come equipped with tools so that any visitor can comment on any post, this means a student's tentative thoughts can be heard, encouraged, engaged, challenged, and commended by those around her. Students' ideas can inform the direction of the class week by week, even if they don't have [the] confidence to open up their mouths and explore a new idea in the classroom. This kind of social software can be used not only to encourage thoughtful and regular writing, but also to help turn a classroom into a community, to help build relationships between students as well as students and their instructors."

Very cogent, truly relevant and thought-provoking, and much more newsworthy than anything I've heard on any actual "news coverage."

Wherever I was, now I'm here, both physically and virtually.

Comments

[Rochelle]

I'm glad you liked my open letter. I'm afraid it didn't go quite as far with the person it was addressed to, though she did just write a book about how she has no time for anything, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I got very little back in response.