Saturday, September 26, 2009

Two Scoops

I just saw a review on H-Net (which, for those who don't know, is an academic email discussion list/news clearinghouse) of a book by a senior scholar in my field. This person's new book is about the topic I wanted to write about when I applied to grad school! If I'd been writing my dissertation about that same topic right now, I'd be feeling pretty darn bad—not only because I'd have been totally scooped, but also because the ever-so-politely-worded review made it sound like this person didn't do a massive amount of research. I would have kept writing my dissertation, only I might have had to pitch it completely differently. And when I went in for job interviews (presuming I got interviews), I'd have to explain how my work differs completely from Professor Senior Scholar's, without making it sound like I think Professor S.S. is a moron. (Those of you who know me know that I have put my foot in it more than once.) Actually, I will have to do this anyway. You always have to describe your "intervention into the literature" but be respectful about it. But I think I will feel less defensive.

Right now I feel fortunate to have been blessed with the gifts of ambivalence and indecision. I got to grad school convinced I would write about this topic, but an offhand remark by a beloved faculty member made me change my mind. Then I came up with topic B, which would have kicked a lot of ass on the job market but which I would have hated writing. If I'd chosen topic B, I would have been mired in misery, making it less likely I'd ever finish grad school. Topic C is a better fit, although there is another historian working on the same topic and a literary study was published on it a year ago. But I feel much more confident about it, mainly because I have a network of spies who have told me what this person's interpretation is, and we have completely different takes on the topic, different sources, and different writing abilities. OK, the latter is an assumption based on my reading of this person's first book. But I think this might be a counterscoop! This person probably has a network of spies too, and these spies might be reporting that a grad student is working on a similar project. I doubt this person will feel threatened by me, but in my dreams this person contacts me about doing a panel or some such collaborative activity in order to preempt me. What I am wondering is if I should present any conference papers or try to publish an article based on my dissertation research. That way I might get counter-counterscooped. Ah, academic politics.

Am I fooling myself?

Monday, September 7, 2009

I Am Spartacus!


Vgirl and I had a conversation recently.

Vgirl: If my job is like being on a pirate ship, what's yours like?

CheeseQuest: Remember the gladiator school in Spartacus?

This is by way of apology for being so quiet lately. Three things have gotten in the way of my blog postings. One is that I am still learning to fend off deadly triton attacks at my new job. The second is that I've been reading the sources I've found instead of trying to find them, so the rare-books-room adventures have dried up. (But look for a new adventure in early November.) Third, I've gotten sucked into Facebook, which (along with Twitter) is going to kill the blogs, I think. As I face the prospect of writing my dissertation I haven't been sure of what to post, since most grad student blogs get somewhat duller and a lot more angsty once the research is done.

I should say that I haven't been hit by the angst yet, but I think it's a-creeping up on me. I've been trying to block out my schedule a week ahead of time and have found that this is somewhere east of pointless because I have no idea how long something will take before I start doing it—erp, make that before it's done.

So here's to Labor Day: I'm thinking of it as the last day I get to ponder what's ahead without doing anything about it. I dedicate this blog post to Kirk Douglas in Spartacus, by all means the guy I would follow into battle against our imperialist, slave-owning Roman oppressors. To my fellow graduate students: keep telling yourself "I am Spartacus!" Stand together, and avoid the flaming logs.