Students whose "words have no forked lightning..."

Dylan Thomas

Advice to students considering

whether or not to drop my course:

"go gentle into that good night"

(Image from Wikipedia)

At Kyung Hee University this semester, I'm teaching two composition courses that were originally set up to allow no more than 15 students each but that ended up having nearly 40 each.

I don't know why the additional students were allowed to register, but putting more than 20 students who use English as a second language into a writing course means that individual students won't receive the attention that they need for their writing to improve.

Some of my students cannot even understand a simple sentence spoken to them and have to turn to fellow students for a translation, thus making the course even more taxing for me to teach.

I suspect that some of these students will drop the course as it moves into high gear when they have to conduct research and provide citations and bibliography, but I'd prefer that they drop now and save me the extra time and effort that I'll be wasting on them. Every semester, I endure students who 'work' until they have written the first draft of their essays and then give up when they receive a very low grade (such as an F minus) after I've gone to the trouble of making copious corrections and giving additional advice.

I've just spent a hard two days reading and marking thesis statements written by some of these students, so I can already see which ones might not stick around until the bitter end, but I've also had some moments of amusement at the positions that some students want to research and defend in their semester paper.

Here's one by a student who's concerned about those of us who fall short of using our innate intellectual gifts to their fullest:

Although humans have good brains, many people don't use their brains well because they don't recognize the importance of using their brains well.

In an effort to help him use his brain well, I've cleaned up his grammar and spelling, but I suspect that he will need to force his brain to do a bit more hard thinking before this thesis statement is capable of sustaining a semester-length research essay.

Another student, perhaps having reflected on the oft-expressed comparison of sports to battle, takes that comparison just a little further:

Although military strategy and position are different from soccer strategy and position, soccer is similar to war because it has strategy and position.

I rather like the redundancy of this argument, though I'm not quite clear on what is meant by "position" . . . but at least my insufficient understanding means that I still have something to learn from this student.

My favorite thesis statement came from a student with ecological concerns:

Although many people say that it is not too late to prevent global warming, the earth will be destroyed because it is already getting hotter.

Yes, I've noticed this myself. March has been noticeably warmer than February, and if this trend continues, I expect that we'll be suffering considerable heat by early July and utter destruction by early August.

If the English of these three samples seems better than expected, that's because I've corrected the errors, but when the students get these thesis statements back, they'll face a bit of frightening red ink and a lot of stern advice.

For that matter, every single student in these two classes will face the ink and the advice that will either make them or break them...

The Escapist

The Escapist

(Image from Wikipedia)

Some alert reader might have inferred from a reference in "Dreams of My Absent Father" that I'm reading Michael Chabon's Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay.

That inference would be correct.

Among the amazing things that Josef Kavalier and Samuel Klayman do is to create the Escapist, a comic-book superhero with the ability to escape all sorts of dire circumstances, not just the chains that you see him breaking out of in the image above.

Although the Escapist uses his powers for good, I'm reminded of that prototypical 'escapist', the superantihero in John Milton's Paradise Lost, Satan, who escapes from his chains on the burning lake, then escapes further through the Gates of Hell itself on his mission to thwart God's purposes.

But that's probably a stretch, even though Chabon does delve into religious traditions and also note the flawed character of some superheros, including that of the Escapist himself, for the Escapist is a reformed cad, whereas Satan in Milton's epic is well on his way to achieving the apotheosis of cadhood. I mean, look how he treats Eve! Just out and out abandons her! And when he re-encounters his first love, the no-longer-lovely Sin, he doesn't even recognize that paramour!

But to be serious for a brief moment, I'm really enjoying Chabon's book and even learning a lot about American popular culture of the 1930s through 1950s. For instance, just yesterday, I happened across a news article by Joseph B. Frazier on David Hajdu's book The Ten-¢ent Plague: The Great Comic-Book Scare and How It Changed America. If I'd not been reading Chabon's novel, I'd not have known the historical reference in Frazier's headline "When comic books were under attack."

I have yet to finish Chabon's novel, and with the Kyung Hee semester beginning today, I feel the bonds of duty tightening, limiting my freedom to read leisurely, leaving me wishing that I could escape...

"A Diller, A Dollar"

"A Diller A Dollar"

Excusing my tardiness...

(Image from Museum of Childhood)

I've been away from my blog for over 24 hours, for I had to rush off to Kyung Hee University to pick up a package of books before heading on downtown to a meeting with my friend Myongsob Kim near Seoul Subway's Gwanghwamun Station for a quick bowl of haejangguk (해장국) -- a type of blood soup much loved as a cure for the common Korean hangover -- afterwards sitting with him for much of the afternoon in a nearby smokey cafe, editing a collection of essays on Northeast Asia's politics that Yonsei Press will be publishing very soon.

That cafe was a proper place for such an undertaking, for it was full of still-vigorous old men watching television tuned to political news. At one point, they all gathered closely around the set, intent on some report. I called this to Myongsob's attention. He stopped his editing and looked, then listened carefully. When the old men had again dispersed to their seats and their coffees, he explained that the news had been reporting on the Korean Supreme Court's decision that the investigation being conducted into Myung-bak Lee's role in the BBK scandal has been declared "partly unconstitutional."

"'Partly unconstitutional'?" I echoed. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," he replied, laughing.

"It sounds like one of those Confucian compromises," I observed.

"Yes," he agreed, "it's a confusing compromise."

I looked at Myongsob, but decided against clarifying the point. He was now listening to the old men, who were discussing what they'd heard. After a while, he told me:

"The old men here know more about politics than I do as a Yonsei professor of political science. They've lived in this area for 40 or 50 years, working in government, and they know everything. They're talking about Lee when he first ran for the National Assembly and when he was Seoul City's mayor. It's fascinating."

Once again, I realized how much I miss out on by not knowing Korean, but I spared no time to dwell on this depressing thought, for we had to return to our last-minute editing, discovering once again the paradox first explored by the presocratic philosopher Zeno as we drew ever nearer to eliminating all errors but always finding yet another. At some point, we had to stop.

"It's a neverending process," I observed, "but we've corrected nearly everything."

Myongsob agreed, and we put away our finished work, drank one more coffee, and headed our separate ways. I took the subway to the Euljiro 1-ga Station (을지로입구역), got off, and headed for an underground restaurant that calls itself Carnestation to meet Gord Sellar and Charles La Shure for dinner and drinks.

I reached the place an hour ahead of time, so I looked around the underground area and found a nearby cafe serving good coffee, settled into a booth there, and finally looked at the books that I'd received that morning. Over a year ago, I blogged about Olen Steinhauer's fascinating first novel, The Bridge of Sighs. Ever since then, I've been meaning to read the entire series, a fascinating set of stories that combine elements of detective fiction, the spy novel, and the political thriller and that are set in an unnamed Eastern European country spanning its Cold War history from the end of World War 2 until the fall of Communism. I've only managed to get started on these novels, so I'll keep silent for the moment but return to them in a future blog entry after I've read them all and have something worthwhile to say.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. I recall eating, drinking, and talking with Gord and Charles about a number of fascinating topics, and I seem to recall a lot of laughter, but my thoughts are a bit scattered, and I could use a dish of haejangguk about right now, so perhaps I'd better stop now and watch the snow falling outside my window.

Speaking of snow falls, you might remember this Snow Fall haiku...

"What! Have we not heard of the glory..."

Kyung Hee University

Of the High Middle Ages

(Image from The Korea Times)

The big hand on the clock has just touched the hour mark, the little hand tells me that the hour is three, and the profound, outer darkness reminds me that this hour is late.

The great MEMESAK international conference has now been over for nine hours, although we participants -- having spent two days "fighting dragons and crossing swords" -- retired to the mead hall and, until only a couple of hours ago, jubilantly celebrated our victory over the forces of darkness that "from the moor under the misty slopes came."

What! Have ye not heard of the glory
Of we Medieval scholars, warriors of golden days --
How we wrought works of valor?

Sorry. I'm waxing Medieval. My excuse? This. I had the privilege of hearing passages from a new Beowulf translation, which opens with these lines:

What! Have we not heard of the glory
Of the Spear-Danes' kings in olden days --
How the princes performed deeds of valor?
Not a few times Scyld Scefing seized
The seats of banquet from many a tribe,
Mighty opponents, and terrified the earls.
Since the time when he was found a deserted infant,
He grew up in tender care, soared to the sky,
And prospered with unparalleled honor, till
All neighboring nations over the sea came
To obey and pay tribute to him: a good king he was!

These words flowed from the lips of Professor Sung-Il Lee, of Yonsei University, who has translated the entirety of that Old English epic. Over a cup of mead (or perhaps soju), I asked him how he had managed to outdo Seamus Heaney's translation:

So. The Spear-Danes in days gone by,
and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness.
We have heard of those princes' heroic campaigns.
There was Shield Sheafson, scourge of many tribes,
a wrecker of mead-benches, rampaging among foes.
This terror of the hall-troops had come far.
A foundling to start with, he would flourish later on
as his powers waxed and his worth was proved.
In the end each clan on the outlying coasts
beyond the whale-road had to yield to him
and begin to pay tribute. That was one good king.

So much for Mr. Heaney. In case you're wondering, the original Anglo-Saxon lines ran as follows:

Hwæt! Wé Gárdena in géardagum
þéodcyninga þrym gefrúnon·
hú ðá æþelingas ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scéfing sceaþena þréatum
monegum maégþum meodosetla oftéah·
egsode Eorle syððan aérest wearð
féasceaft funden hé þæs frófre gebád·
wéox under wolcnum· weorðmyndum þáh
oð þæt him aéghwylc þára ymbsittendra
ofer hronráde hýran scolde,
gomban gyldan· þæt wæs gód cyning.

I've borrowed this original text from Benjamin Slade's great website Beowulf in Steorarume.

But you're still wondering how Professor Lee managed to render the Old English into excellent, modern lines of epic poetry that -- in my opinion -- far outdo Heaney's version. Over that cup of aforementioned sojumead, Lee explained that he had used the old dictionaries and critical texts of bygone scholars to ensure that he had clearly understood the original verse, and once he had done that for a few lines, he had "let the text possess" him and had proceeded to translate it. He had spent four-and-one-half months working from early morning till late at night without a break last fall and winter in this endeavor, and when he finished the last line at three in the morning in late February 2007, he opened for himself a bottle of soju, drank it all down, and literally "howled at the moon!"

That sounded a bit more like Grendel than Beowulf, but I toasted Professor Lee's admirable achievement, and he promised me a copy of the published text.

As for my own light-hearted presentation, which I had titled "Finding Myself Lost in Translation," people seemed to enjoy it, for they laughed a lot. I took that as a good sign, though they may simply have been laughing at me.

I should add -- last but not at all least -- that I finally met Mr. Gord Sellar, a man to whom I've been indebted ever since he came to my rescue online one fine day last year when an anonymous troll was plaguing these blog entries. Gord called the troll a "twit" and thereby helped rid Gypsy Scholar of an unwanted, gryndelig presence.

Gord can perhaps confirm whether the preposition "with" or "at" best describes how people were laughing during my presentation. Either way, thanks to Gord for his moral support during the conference and his immoral support during the postconference drinking...

The Art of Success: My Brilliant Career!

New Day Publishers

"a not-for-profit publishing house"

(Image from New Day Publishers)

Today and tomorrow, I'm busy attending an international Medieval conference on "The Issues of Translation in Medieval and Renaissance Studies" that's being held -- conveniently for my purposes -- on the Kyung Hee University campus.

The conference is taking place under the auspices of the Medieval and Early Modern English Studies Association of Korea (MEMESAK), an organization to which I belong, and around 3:00 p.m. on Saturday, I'm giving a presentation titled "Finding Myself Lost in Translation," which puns in various ways too tedious to detail here.

I guess that you'll just have to be there.

Anyway, since I'm busy preparing for that, I'm going to be derelict in my blogging duties and keep my post mercifully short this weekend. Thus . . . an announcement.

A book that my wife and I translated from the original Korean version has recently been published, and just this week, we received our gratis copies. Some disclaimers, though. We're not involved in the publishing and receive no royalties or kickback or anything other than for our initial work as translators (and even then only from the KLTI). Also, I'm 'slightly' exaggerating to call myself a translator. Sun-Ae actually translates. I merely rework her hard efforts into a style that sounds more natural to English. Also, this particular book was not literature, which is what we ordinarily work in, but one of those self-help books for people hoping to rise to the heights of stardom as a CEO (Chief Executive Officer).

The book is titled Art of Success: Learning through Great Conquerers from Julius Caesar to Genghis Khan (ISBN 971-10-1170-3), by Kim Hoo, and its basic theme is that the great conquerors reached the heights that they did through a combination of charm and ruthlessness that the would-be CEO can emulate. Deception and betrayal are necessary to success. Typical advice:

Be free of all criteria of values. People tend to behave according to the standard of values they have, such as those rooted in a religion or faith. But the successful show themselves much more flexible than the common people in this regard. They are not bound to standards of values but, rather, know how to use them as freely as they like. (page 93)

In short, get ahead any way that you can. My wife and I considered taking Mr. Hoo's advice to heart, stealing his book, publishing it as our own, and perhaps making our fortune. Unfortunately, we let our values be our guide and remained honest but poor.

Perhaps Mr. Hoo will also remain poor, but in case any of my readers wants to help him line his pockets with silver and gold, his book can be purchased from New Day Publishers, a publishing company in the Philippines that, oddly enough, claims to be "a not-for-profit publishing house that aims to strengthen the life and witness of the church through the publication and distribution of books that are culturally relevant and people-empowering."

The book is reviewed on Inquirer.net by a certain Mr. Dante M. Velasco, specialist in "public relations," and in his review, "Choice of conquest: Territories or self?", he seems of two minds about the book:

Here comes a book that delivers a formula for success or conquest, with stories that steer clear of myths behind well-known conquerors in antiquity -- and with annotations that extract meaning from such stories. And yet this book must be read with a clear "PG Warning."

This is an unusual book on how to succeed because, at first glance, the stories come across as prescriptions of using such not-so-desirable behavioral patterns as betrayal, trickery, cruelty, hypocrisy, crocodile tears, cowardice, hatred, insincere love, unabashed use of religion and ideology, expansionism, and terrorism.

Velasco takes some cold comfort in the book's honesty:

Thankfully, the author has a warning in his preface: "For a long time, historians avoided the evil conduct committed by conquerors to make them seem greater than life and deserving respect. But actually, they also betrayed, fled during battle, treated love like a business deal, and sacrificed close friends without hesitation for specific aims."

Velasco, however, remains doubtful about the morality of the lessons to be learned.

As for me, I learned that, once again, as with almost every publication on which my full name appears, my middle name is misspelled as "Jeffrey."

Sigh...

They all deserve my allantion?

All the Skinny on Skin

(Image from Wikipedia)

As I was walking up the street toward campus from Bus 273's Kyung Hee University stop yesterday, I happened to notice that a woman just ahead of me and also heading for the campus was wearing one of those t-shirts with a long message on the back:

In your life and work, you will meet many kinds of people. Some will be hardworking. Others will be less so. Some will be outgoing. Others will be shy. Some will be kind. Others will be unkind. Some will be your friends. Some will not...

And so on in that vein of modernist binary oppositions. Kind of obvious, mundane, quotidian. And lengthy. Clearly, I thought, the guy who made that t-shirt was an unfortunate nexus of too much time and too little imagination. Until I read his conclusion:

They all deserve your allantion.

What the...? I thought. My allantion? What's that? Surely 'attention' was intended.

But this was strange. Living in East Asia, I often see what we native speakers jokingly call 'Engrish'. I still laugh about the attractive girl wearing the t-shirt with this message on its back side:

"Excreting."

That one was also strange, yet the word was familiar enough. But "allantion"? Was there some peculiar East Asian confusion of ells for tees that I had totally missed in my long years living here? That's possible. The tip of the tongue is placed in approximately the same place for the "L" and "T" sounds, and could be confused, I suppose, but I've never previously encountered this linguistic confusion.

Or was this some obscure dermatological message, for as I later discovered, "allantion" is a genuine word:

This is a product which is extracted from the roots and leaves of the comfrey plat (sic: plant). This has been used for years to speed up healing. The soothing properties of this skin treatment along with the ability to renew healthy cells makes (sic: make) this product ideal for your anti-aging skin regimen. Allantion is traditionally used to heal bruises, heal wounds, and reduce inflammation, (and) this particular product has recently become well known for its ability to treat aging and damaged skin.

Allation (sic: Allantion) is very good for soothing irritated skin. It also stimulates cell regeneration and moisturizes the driest skin. Because of these factors, Allantoin (sic: allantion) is an active ingredient which is found in many skin care products and anti-aging treatments. It is found is cleansers, toners, sun screens, and speciality skin care treatments.

If this was meant, then I suppose the message intended by the t-shirt designer was that everybody I meet needs good skin care, and that's probably true, but why does everybody deserve my allantion? And why do they deserve it? I neither have any allantion that I'm aware of nor understand why I'm placed under a moral obligation to supply all others with any allantion that I might happen to have.

Well, to hell with that! Socialism has already been tried and found wanting! Any allantion that I come into possession of will be my own allantion! What is it about the concept of ownership that you don't understand, Mr. T-Shirt Maker?

Stupid fricking t-shirt maker, trying to guilt-trip me into supplying the whole world with endless quantities of my own precious allantion...