A Jury of Her Peers

Let's face it: academics sometimes give themselves a bad reputation. Working in the office of a nationally ranked English department, I've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. There are quite a few professors who are genuinely kind, appreciative, thoughtful people. There are some who think they are more important than those of us working in the office, and whose air of superiority is hard to miss. And then there are those who make it clear that they think they come from some kind of superior stock. I've actually heard this phrase uttered: "Don't you know who I am?" It doesn't matter who you "are": the answer to this question is always the same. If you're asking it, you're an asshole. In this environment comprised of individuals with vastly different egos, blazing a path for myself as timesheet approver/paycheck sorter/graduate student has been generally rewarding but sometimes unbelievably upsetting. Anytime I come across a successful academic who seems like a sincere, thoughtful, kind person, I find it exceptionally refreshing. Such was the case yesterday afternoon when Elaine Showalter came to campus to speak about her new book.

There are few academics who are more successful than Elaine Showalter. I know of her because I've read excerpts from her wildly successful Teaching Literature. I've heard about but haven't yet read A Literature of Their Own. Upon finding out that she was going to be speaking about her latest project, A Jury of Her Peers: American Women Writers from Anne Bradstreet to Annie Proulx, I knew I had to go. It didn't matter that I didn't have time on an afternoon four days before my PhD application was due, or that it would force me to sit in miserable Friday evening rush hour traffic: I had to go.

A Jury of Her Peers is the first comprehensive literary history of American women writers. Showalter wrote the entire thing herself. And somehow, while talking about the topic I have been slaving away with the hopes of continuing to study for the next four years, she managed to calm a lot of the fears I have about diving into the pool of sharks that academia sometimes feels like.

She said to be confident in your opinion, and to assert it with conviction, but to expect that no one will agree with you. This will keep you confident and humble.

She said that professors should consider teaching to be the most important thing they do, even more important than their own research. (I hope some of our professors were listening.)

She said that literary anthologies, in an attempt to accomodate more writers, and more points of view, and to break down the literary canon, have gotten too large to be manageable and have thus become "editorial octomoms." (Did I mention that she made waves in academia by writing for People Magazine and Vogue?)

She said that each person should feel comfortable declaring their own point of view, and that by staking a definitive claim, we create a space where our critics can think seriously and generatively about why they disagree with us.

She said that women should not be afraid to "Make a little trouble, make a little space."

And she reminded me that the work I'm doing, and the work I want to do, is important. Hemingway and Dos Passos and Fitzgerald are exceptional, but so are Cather and Porter and Canfield Fisher. And they still don't get enough attention. And their narratives still aren't recognized by much of academia, not to mention mainstream America.

For several weeks, I've been trying to find my second wind. Thanks, Dr. Showalter, for blowing into town with brilliance and humor to fill my sails.

Want to know more about the book? Elaine Showalter discusses it here.

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In other news, Clara Hoffmann turns 1 today! It's hard to believe how much the little bug has changed in just a year!

And my college roommate, Jolene, gave birth just after midnight to Jacob Carl Clearwater. Welcome to the world, Jacob! December 5 is a good day to be born!