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digital [humanities|libraries] – Page 7 – Words' End

Amodio on orality and hypertext.

Mark C. Amodio, in Writing the Oral Tradition: Oral Poetics and Literate Culture in Medieval England(Notre Dame, IN: UND Press, 2004), writes (with footnote):

The reader in a literate society plays an important, active role in “writing” the “text” he or she reads* and thus plays a role in creating the “text” in just the way listening audiences in oral cultures are co-creators of the text they receive aurally, but the text produced within literate culture has an attendant physicality, and hence fixity, that oral texts lack. (8)

*A hypertext novel, and hypertext in general, can be seen as a logical extension of the subjective perspective in that readers must literally navigate their way through a “text” that has no fixed or absolutely determined path. In this way, hypertext authors are rather like modern versions of traditional poets in that they create texts with fluid narrative paths that are not easily (if at all) traceable. See further Foley, How to Read, 219-25. On hypertext’s relation to orality, see Joyce, “No One Tells You This.”

I’ll need to follow up on the references he makes, but reading this raised several reactionary thoughts. This is the first time Amodio, who doesn’t seem to be very much into electronic literature, mentions hypertext in the book (which is, by the way, a nice read so far). His treatment of e-lit as something with “no fixed or absolutely determined path” seems to imply an absence of any path at all, which of course isn’t true: hypertext authors often steer the reader in a particular direction by carefully choosing link placement. Plus, it’s certainly possible to have one or more series of single-path nodes within an otherwise link-rich text.

Another debatable implicit opinion in the above the quotation marks surrounding the word text either. What, is it not text? Kind of text? In a book dedicated to orality and literacy I’d expect a more careful consideration of the word. But perhaps he explains this further into the book.

Finally, the co-creation bit. I’ve compared for years reading interlinked bits of related stories in RolandHT with listening to an oral performance of a piece about Roland, composed by a poet on the spot using archetypes from received cultural memory. But Amodio extends the process of reception to a co-creation. Tempting, in that it (again implicitly) empowers the reader and elevates the interpretive process; but how is this co-creation distinct from forming any memory at all?

FMI, Amodio’s two footnote references are:

Foley, John Miles. How to Read an Oral Poem. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2002.

Joyce, Michael. “No One Tells You This: Secondary Orality and Hypertextuality.” Oral Tradition 17 (2002): 325-45.

NWF on digilit

Went to a talk today, the last (?) in a series of lectures on digital literature in research and teaching. This one was by Noah Wardrip-Fruin, a charismatic polymath. The man does it all: he teaches writing in odd spaces, he blogs (at Grand Text Auto), he has co-edited a couple of books, and he’s an active participant in various electronic literature and art communities in addition to being an artist himself.

Today, Noah theorized about both digital literature itself and approaches to teaching it. Two things struck me in particular.

One is his classification of important aspects to consider when looking critically at digital literature and art, broadly defined as that which requires computation. Noah went through several classification schemes that are both useful and not meant to be exhaustive. For example, there are works in which computation happens without human intervention (for example, email novels), as opposed to pieces that require a lot of very obvious human input (interactive fiction comes to mind). A few more two-sided classifications, and he arrived at the poignant triad of media (text, image, sound), audience and processes (computational and aesthetic). All of these, he said, must be analyzed preferably in depth, and in relation to each other, in order to understand digital literature and art and their impact on our thinking.

The second part of Noah’s talk centered around pedagogical issues that immediately arise when one proposes to teach digital literature to humanities students. The single most important thing, from his perspective, seems to be the teaching of processes: recognizing them in code, critically analyzing them from an aesthetic perspective, and designing them as well. This should be achieved not only through familiarization with theory but also through the learning of languages that can be used to design processes. Michael Mateas and his teaching at Georgia Tech came up multiple times; apparently his students are learning all these things, and in the span of a semester at that. Impressive.

Of course, I immediately started thinking (again) about how all these things could be effectively and concisely taught to humanities students. Those who study digital media specifically, as a major or a minor, are one thing; but what about the students whose principal interests remain firmly in history, sociology, literature? How does one cover different types of digital art and its various backbones, and teach them to not only read but also write creatively in heretofore unfamiliar languages, not to mention how to familiarize themselves with critical literature which might be absolutely relevant to what they are doing but is presented as computer science papers, which they might have difficulty reading or indeed finding in the first place? All of these things, Noah said today, are crucial; but they’re a [composite] field unto themselves.

Noah’s passionate enough about the necessity of knowing all these things that he was willing to “do away with calculus” (joke!, or is it?) in favor of having more space in the curriculum for cross-disciplinary study of digital literature and art. I tend to agree with him on this; as cool as calculus is, the knowledge of (dare I say it?) humanities computing issues is more practically useful if presented well. Computing and the network are now indelibly interwoven into our lives as individuals and as societies. My own feeling is that understanding of computing as both art and science is as important as the study of languages, of public speaking and of writing.

Challenges remain. Literary criticism, for example, must expand its scope to include digital materials as a matter of course. At the same time, it would be helpful if computer scientists and humanists came up with a reasonably penetrable common language that would make it easier for students of digital media to read literature relevant to their studies.

College curricula must be expanded to eventually include humanities computing in a way that targets all students; I think that the conglomerate of subjects this implies is crucial and should be a requirement for a well-rounded education. The problem with this is that some colleges are already brimming with required courses. In the States at least, where college education particularly emphasizes personal choice, expansion of the set of general education requirements will probably be met with much scepticism and resistance. This, of course, leads straight into the problem of primary and secondary education, which is frankly crap in this country, widespread inadequate preparation for college-and-beyond. (Generalizing for the sake of brevity; yes, private schools etc., I’m talking overall and public schools.)

Anyway, good talk. More interesting stuff was said there, but these are the broad strokes.

Design site/book

From Halley Suitt’s blog: check out Thoughtless Acts, a site/book concerning human-oriented design. Leaving aside the fact that it’s a Flash site (bleah, accessibility-wise), looks interesting.

Printing presses and movable types

Did you know that Gutenberg invented neither the printing press nor (surprising to me) movable type?

I’m reading a pretty interesting article about the life cycles of texts. In an offhanded way, the author states at one point: “A great leap in the development of the text cycle was Gutenberg’s invention of loose type and his improved use of the printing press.” That presses had existed before, and that Gutenberg’s huge innovation was movable type itself, didn’t surprise me much (although I hadn’t thought about it before). What did surprise me was that he re-invented movable type.

Here’s a small part of what Britannica says on the topic: (please do not keel me Mr. Copyright, I’m a mere excited researcher sharing the goodness that is knowledge)

About 1041–48 a Chinese alchemist named Pi Sheng appears to have conceived of movable type made of an amalgam of clay and glue hardened by baking. He composed texts by placing the types side by side on an iron plate coated with a mixture of resin, wax, and paper ash. Gently heating this plate and then letting the plate cool solidified the type. Once the impression had been made, the type could be detached by reheating the plate. It would thus appear that Pi Sheng had found an overall solution to the many problems of typography: the manufacture, the assembling, and the recovery of indefinitely reusable type.

In about 1313 a magistrate named Wang Chen seems to have had a craftsman carve more than 60,000 characters on movable wooden blocks so that a treatise on the history of technology could be published. To him is also attributed the invention of horizontal compartmented cases that revolved about a vertical axis to permit easier handling of the type. But Wang Chen’s innovation, like that of Pi Sheng, was not followed up in China.

In Korea, on the contrary, typography, which had appeared by the first half of the 13th century, was extensively developed under the stimulus of King Htai Tjong, who, in 1403, ordered the first set of 100,000 pieces of type to be cast in bronze. Nine other fonts followed from then to 1516; two of them were made in 1420 and 1434, before Europe in its turn discovered typography.

Nifty!

To my Boston peeps

What better way to start off your Saturday (that’d be tomorrow) than a panel at the New England Modern Language Association conference, at which yours truly will present a scintillating paper on the Virtual Humanities Lab?

Seriously, it’s a great paper. It is totally accessible (not full of jargon), it’s fun to read, I imagine it’s fun to listen to, and it really is a great project. The session runs from 8:30 to 9:45am, which I assume automatically precludes 99% of the locals reading this from going, but it’s worth a try. Afterwards, you can go get caffeinated beverage of choice! Greet the day! Rah!… okay, I’m done.

If you’re interested in the rest of the session, go here and do a find for my name.

The Hyatt Regency Hotel Cambridge is that ziggurat-looking thing by the river, 575 Memorial Drive. We’ll be in a room called Thomas Paine A. It’s on the first floor.

Why I love what I do, reason 479.

Am reading the newly-published A Companion to Digital Humanities, edited by Susan Schreibman, Ray Siemens and John Unsworth and published by Blackwell. Whipping through more than reading, really: I’d recalled it from the library and it got recalled right back, so I only have until Monday and it’s almost 700 pages long. There’s tons of interesting stuff in there. Most of it is nothing new for me – the book reads like a primer – but the writing is excellent and there are some new ideas, and when I teach an intro to humanities computing class, this will likely be the main textbook. Um, if they come out with a version that doesn’t cost $165.

Speaking of excellent writing, here’s a bit from Carole L. Palmer’s “Thematic Research Collections”:

[T]he creators of scholarly collections will need to be a new kind of scholar, or team, with a distinct mix of expertise in at least three areas – the specific subject matter and associated critical and analytical techniques, technical computing processes, and principles of content selection and organization.

Both my job with the VHL and [especially] my dissertation for a PhD in humanities computing (!!) challenge me to develop along all of these lines. There are low points, to be sure, but the occasional bird’s-eye-view inspires and recharges me. This field is so… fun. How many people can boast an adventurous academic life? Unbelievable luck, right here.

Making waves

I’ve just posted some thoughts about different approaches to presenting and distributing academic knowledge. Please opine if you are so inclined. I have a feeling I’ll be roundly chastised for some of the things I said, but discussion is sort of the idea. :)

Born Digital competition

I’ll go back to the food porn shortly. (Yesterday evening I had an excuse for not writing: a hot date. Today I have no such excuse.)

Meanwhile, there’s a competition going on at futureofthebook.org:

Our first competition calls for a reinvention of the illuminated manuscript. How will this ancient art evolve as multimedia begins to take a central role in our reading experience? Send us a single illustrated page that exploits the unique possibilities of the digital medium while preserving the classic illuminative relationship between text and image.

Nice! Were I at all good at graphic design or video work, I’d totally go for it with Roland. As it stands, I’ll sit back and watch the results, which should be beautiful.

Hyperlist(e)s

Jenna Wells, a student at McMaster, is presenting a site that hadn’t been on my radar previously, but is actually somewhat similar in concept to RolandHT. The site, written entirely in French, is Hyperlistes, and treats a body of medieval French poetry. Apparently, listing things in your poems was a popular thing to do; the project’s participants have encoded items in these lists and cross-referenced them by theme. Nifty.

EDIT, with notes to self: just talked to Madeline Jeay, originator and brain behind Hyperlistes. She mentions that street poets in Brazil did something called poésie de cordel, in which… I think they hung sheets of paper off of ropes in sequence and then sang the songs. Or something. I must research this further, because Madeline seems to remember some of those stories being about Roland. She says that Paul Zumthor’s Introduction a la poésie orale may mention it; she vaguely remembers Zumthor talking about it when she studied with him. (!)

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