[EDITOR'S NOTE: Since the Superfriends have remained silent, to foster variegated opinions and commentaries on this blog, I have enlisted Professor Timothy Stuyvesant (rumored to be in the running for emeritus status) to offer excerpts from his lectures here on a semi-regular basis. The Professor specializes in English usage and made at least forty-five students weep the last year. (Approximately. The number hasn't been confirmed.) He has yet to be featured on Rate My Professors for fear of immediate reprisal. But several experts have concluded that Stuyvesant's work remains as baffling as anybody else's.]
Excerpt From “The Spoken Astonishment” (first delivered in English 467: The Ethics of Punctuation on April 5, 1992):
“Oh boy!”
You’ve probably said or heard this at least some point in your life. But not in my classroom! Here, I would rather have you declare astonishment to a piece of fecal matter than have you degrade the human race with two simple words.
Degrade? Yes! Degrade. This is a very serious matter! When you are having a bad day or trying to come to terms with an unsettling situation, why is it a boy that comes from your lips? Are you craving a Bob’s Big Boy hamburger? I think not! And if you are, come by my office later. I might let you in on a few good burger joints. Are you frightened by the prospect of a girl materializing in front of your eyes to alleviate you?
Don’t get any ideas. This concerns her too.
Who is this boy you speak of anyway? Why does it have to be a he? Did this boy ask you to mention him? Did you even ask this boy if you could talk about him? How could you be so rude?
Let me tell you where I am going with this. It is the unfortunate tendency of the sexist machinations of the Western world to confine astonishment to a masculine gender status.
It must stop! Either we must come to terms with the boy, perhaps subduing his anonymity by referring to him by first name. (Perhaps “Oh Phil” or “Oh Glen” is the answer here.) Or we must find a nongender noun that will offend no one. We need a term of astonishment that will lead us into the 21st century. Something that nobody will anticipate. Something that makes everyone feel good and is more concerned with meaning rather than ambiguity.
We lost the ERA fight and the foolish masses keep electing Republicans to the White House. But this will not stand.
Magic Hours by Tom Bissell: This marvelous collection of essays chronicles everything from film shoots to novelists rescued from oblivion. (The essay on the Underground Literary Alliance, with its portrait of raucous factions, unexpectedly reveals how soft today's literary world has become.) But if you peer between the cracks of these smart pieces, you may very well see how cultural lives are formed from the most unexpected life choices. And as we follow Bissell's development as a writer over the years, that goes for Bissell as well. (
Angelmaker by Nick Harkaway: Harkaway's latest novel greatly improves on his previous book, The Gone-Away World, which I'm already on record as praising. Angelmaker adopts genre elements without ever feeling like a genre book, and it leads me to believe that Harkaway is well on his way to a narrative grace close to China Miéville's. Yet inexplicably this very fun book, which includes an eightysomething badass named Edie Banister, a mysterious mechanical object that may destroy the world, farcical scenarios involving lawyers and the police, and some unexpectedly moving moments about fatherhood, doesn't appear to be getting much attention in American newspapers. Nothing from the snobs at The New York Times Book Review, nothing from The Washington Post. And since I can't get Harkaway on Bat Segundo, I hope this Jump Up and Down mention gets you hopping as well.
The Age of Insight by Eric Kandel: Unless you're really pressed for time, forget Jonah Lehrer. If you want to understand creativity and its relationship to neuroscience, then the bowtie-wearing Nobel laureate is your man. In addition to being a physically beautiful book (you will drool over many of the paintings), there are helpful overviews on optical illusions, science, biographical backgrounds, and many vital figures from the Vienna Secession. Kandel's enthusiasm (and his call for greater unity between the humanities and science) is contagious.