Tripping hither, tripping thither

What a busy week I've had!

Wednesday through Saturday I had performances of Iolanthe, my latest foray into the world of Gilbert & Sullivan.  The production was set in modern times, with some clever touches.  For example, the fairies were rebellious political activists (see my photo below) whose queen had been drinking ever since she banished Iolanthe.

The modern setting meant that the peers were all dressed in their finest suits (shy of tuxedo land), which made them very easy on the eyes. :)  The March of the Peers song got new life by depicting them all getting dressed and taking the Tube to work.  Fun all around, despite the fact that the women's chorus has very little to do in this show.  It's a great one for the men instead.

Plus, you know someone is doing an amazing job when the entire cast huddles in the wings to watch a certain number.  For us, it was the nightmare song, which I think is Gilbert's funniest bit of writing because it's so relatably true about the bizarre nature of dreams.  If you haven't heard it, here's a good-ish version from YouTube where you can at least understand the words, though the guy doesn't always sing.  Doesn't hold a candle to our Lord Chancellor, naturally. :)

Saturday morning was also the day of another rowing race.  This one we kicked ass -- but sadly had to forfeit because we were a person short and had to use a non-novice.  Here's hoping for an even better result later this week!

Sunday was a day of silliness motivated by my desire to see Harry Potter on IMAX.  This meant a trip to London.  It was meant to be a group outing, but all but one backed out.  Nonetheless, fellow Tit Hall grad student Wolfgang (yes, he's from Austria) and I had a good time.  We arrived about midday and spent all afternoon (minus lunch) in the British Museum.  Here's a shot of one end of one of the Assyrian/Egyptian rooms:

It was unspeakably cool to see things that you've encountered, say, on the cover of a textbook, like the Assyrian lion hunt (see below), the Rosetta Stone, the frieze from the Parthenon, and various Anglo-Saxon torcs that have been turned up in farmers' fields (also below).

          

This entry is now becoming far too long, so I'll just say that the IMAX experience was as excellent as I hoped, and we even managed to catch the last train back to Cambridge with no problems.  It wasn't terribly cold when I biked home in the wee hours, but lo and behold it snowed sometime after that!  We had a little dusting earlier in the week, but this was slightly more convincing -- still less than an inch, though, I'm sure.  Here's a shot of my building (on the right).

Then I turned the camera about 90 degrees to the left and propped it on the bench there to take this self-portrait.  The gardens in this housing complex are really beautiful; they make me feel like I live in a country house.

Whew!  Now I just have to write up all my research notes for my supervisor...

A pondering about water

Okay, stay with me here, I have a theme, even if it's a bit random.

We had our first novice rowing race today.  It was less than ideal.  But there was some promise in the second half...and I was comforted to hear lots of stories from good, experienced rowers about their previous disastrous crashes and fails.  I also learned that if a crew wins certain key races, it's tradition to throw their cox in the river.

This got me thinking about how many celebratory traditions there are that involve dousing someone.  Think about it: win the Super Bowl or some other big football game and you throw the Gatorade/water all over the coach.  At Stanford, you're supposed to drag a birthday person into the shower, while at a couple Northwest colleges I visited back in the day, I heard it's tradition to throw them in the millrace/river.  Or there's simply throwing someone in the pool at a party.

What is so attractive about getting someone soaked?  One could make an elaborate metaphor about baptism, or say it's schadenfreude (pleasure in someone else's discomfort).  I truly don't know.  But here are some pictures from today:

Since Tit Hall's colors are black and white, and this was a dress-up race, we were dressed as Postman Pat (the cox) and his (her) black-and-white cat(s).  Apparently it's a children's show -- see here.

I was rowing at bow (the frontmost position), so I got this shot of Genna and the rest of the crew strapping in, right in front of the boathouse.

Preparations continue:

Michaelmas term racing toward the finish

For those of us who went through the quarter system, ten weeks seemed fairly short.  Well, eight weeks is ridiculously short.  I'm aware of this not because I have papers or applications due like my M.Phil colleagues.  But the extracurricular activities will soon cease for break, and it seems like they're just starting to get going.  We have our first novice rowing race on Sunday, which should be...interesting.

Before I close out Michaelmas* term, I want to see my supervisor once more, so I'll start writing something up this weekend, I hope.  I've spent the last two weeks-ish doing a lot of background reading on the history of certain scholarship, and it's amazing how you definitely recognize certain people as they crop up over and over again.  And it's nice if you can admire them a bit, like the guy who suggested that Sanskrit and a bunch of other languages might be related -- he moved to India as a colonial judge, but he was really in love with the place and eastern languages.  On the other hand, I also learned today that in 1817 it was proposed that the Taj Mahal be taken down in order to sell the marble! ... I'm speechless.

So anyway, it's been interesting, but it's about time to package what I've been looking at and give it some shape.  In the meantime, the G&S society is putting up Iolanthe next week, and I'm sure it will be delightful, though it's a little scary how some things (like costumes) haven't been talked about in weeks...

*A note on Michaelmas, with a Jane Austen reference!
As you might guess, Michaelmas (pronounced mickle-mus) is a feast day for St. Michael (and all the angels, if you choose).  There's a great explanation of it here, but basically it's one of four days that evenly divide the year and "were the four dates on which servants were hired, rents due or leases begun."  Now it makes even more sense when Mrs. Bennet says on the first page of P&P that Bingley "is to take possession [of Netherfield] before Michaelmas."  Although, come to think of it, it's a bit odd that he's taking possession before Michaelmas.  Maybe it shows how rich Bingley is, or how long the house has been vacant and needs to be rented quickly.

Snarky packaging

A quick post for your amusement.  These labels really amused me, and while I don't want to make sweeping claims about British humor, I'll just say it's fun to find these things.

First up, the label of a cheap (£5) bottle of wine I bought.  It's kind of destroyed because it went through the wash, but it is described as a "light, very gluggable red whine."  First, I've gone to a lot of wine tastings, and I'm pretty sure "gluggable" is never used for high-end products.  Second, "whine"?  Really?  And they do it twice (but not the third time)!  Finally, I can't quite make it out, but the last bit seems to say that it has "boiled sweet characters."  I'm guessing this was not written by a native speaker.

The next two are from the super-natual, not-from-concentrate orange juice I bought to fight off a little cold.  Notice the helpful advice after the *.

And this shows a certain amount of confidence in their product, I think:

Remember, remember, the 5th of November

As you may know, November 5 marks the day in 1605 when Guy Fawkes got caught guarding gunpowder that was supposed to blow up Parliament.  In celebration of this, people light bonfires just like King James did -- and blow up fireworks.  Irony, anyone?

Personally, I remember last night as a rather soggy but still fun experience.  There was a barbecue at the Trinity Hall Boathouse, which had an excellent view of the fireworks.  Unfortunately, a mild drizzle went on non-stop, which eventually became an issue -- in other words, I was soaked from the waist down by the end of the night.

It also made taking photos tough; between the BBQ smoke and the rain, I couldn't seem to focus on anything.  Here's a good one, though.  You can see a bit of the upstairs balcony and people standing on the stairs.

Here's a bit of the big finale:

Across the river from the boathouse, there is a big field, and one of those drive-up carnivals was set up there.  Blurry, rainy picture below:

A group of us trudged over, passing along the way a huge bonfire of pallets and so forth.  No salamanders we need to worry about here, eh, Stanford folks?  I think this is the first time I've ever seen a real bonfire; it was epic.

In any case, after all that I returned to the boathouse for Boat Club initiation, and when I got home I headed straight for a warm shower and snuggling into bed.

Rule, Britannia! or, literary history is a small world

I'm happy to report that my supervisor was pleased with what I'd done.  I'm now focusing on putting together background information on Anglo-Saxon scholarship in the 18th century so that I know what was in the atmosphere, so to speak.

So as I've been putting together a timeline of when various thematic literature was published/performed, I came across some fun facts about the "unofficial anthem" of England, Rule Britannia!

This was actually the closing song of a masque (musical drama) called Alfred written in 1740.  It was about Alfred the Great, one of the most impressive Anglo-Saxon kings, who unified several separate kingdoms to make a pseudo-nation thing.  He was a really popular figure for both conservatives and liberals in later centuries:

     "Respect all kings absolutely or you're spitting on Alfred!"

     "No, Alfred set up trial by jury and democracy!"

Anyway, the masque was first performed at Cliveden, the house where my dad lived for the Stanford-in-Britain study abroad program!

Then the song became very popular on its own, which you can read about on wikipedia if you want.  Apparently, Beethoven wrote piano variations on it, and Wagner and Strauss quoted from it, too.  And naturally, Arthur Sullivan of Gilbert & Sullivan fame stuck it into his music a few times.  If any of you came to see me in The Zoo, you heard the women's chorus sing in response to the question, "If the noble [lion] could speak, what would he say?":

"He'd say in well-known English staves

He'd say Britannia rules the waves,

And Britons never, never will be slaves, hurray, hurray!"

I imagine part of its continued popularity after WWII is due to this prophetic verse:

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,

More dreadful, from each foreign stroke;

As the loud blast that tears the skies,

Serves but to root thy native oak.

Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:

Britons never will be slaves.

See, history is fun!

Oh yeah, and research

You all may be suspecting at this point that all I do is wander around exclaiming how beautiful everything is and having fun with my college acquaintances.  This isn't entirely wrong, but in between these things I do try to read up on my project.  Before I go on to that, let me exclaim over how lovely the fall colors are turning.  Here's a shot from the path from my department to Trinity Hall, as I'm on my way to lunch:

What I knew most about from Stanford was the Romantics: Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley (Percy and Mary), Byron, and the like.  But I also really liked the history of the English language.  So how could I combine these things?  Well, the nineteenth century is when people got interested in the history of the English language.  And Coleridge wrote The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere with weird old spelling.  I'll study people who wrote in old-looking language!

That's the application I sent two years running, and here I am.  Now where the hell do I start?  Well, how about a picture for wading through all this.  You can tell I was playing with the camera's selective color setting.

I started with books and articles that looked like they might have background info on the huge medievalist trend in the nineteenth century.  Then I started chasing footnotes.  I found a couple really interesting articles that pulled in something I was interested in back during my history of the language class.

Did you know that Tennyson was part of the "Apostles," a secret-ish undergrad society at Trinity College, Cambridge?  And that his colleagues in the club (and friends for much longer) were key in bringing over the new German philology with new ways of tracing languages back to earlier ones?  Do you care? ;)  Anyway, it's fascinating (to me) how worked up some people were about words "losing meaning" because they didn't mean precisely one and only one thing.

So that's what I've been poking around with so far.  In about 10 hours I'll meet with my supervisor and find out if I'll be changing directions entirely.  One more picture:

More pictures

Sorry, I'm turning into one of those annoying people who make you watch their slideshows when they get home from a trip...

Here's the view of Trinity Hall's library and back garden wall from across the river...

...and the same thing by night.

And this I have no explanation for:

Some pictures from Grad Hall

Because I haven't been giving you nearly enough visuals of my richly visual experience here:

Here's a shot down the length of my table in the hall.  There are three of these, plus the high table at the end of the room.

This one is just to show me in my gown and show off the pie -- which was pretty good, but weirdly tasted entirely of lemon despite being a "chocolate-pear torte."

Preparing the port in the MCR afterward

A terrible picture of one of my buddies, Kris, and me holding our port.

Morning revelations

I'm not sure I can actually live up to such a grand title, but here are the realizations I've had each of the last three mornings, in reverse order.

TODAY (Wednesday)
Although the sun may be shining, it can be very cold.
Okay, this isn't exactly a revelation, even for a Bay Area native.  Still, the last three weeks have not prepared me for a crystalline, sparkling day hovering in the 40s -- or should I say 7º C? -- plus icy wind.

[Side note: someone should do a psychological study on why it's so hard to change measuring systems in your head.  I just can't wrap my head around the low Celsius numbers.  One of my English colleagues said that people our age are a transitional generation in Britain: his parents think in "imperial" (English) measurements, younger kids think in metric, but he has a jumble of both.  He can only think of his weight in stones (14 lbs), but he'll measure for baking in kilograms; from here to the end of the block he'll think of in meters, but across the table is feet.]

In any case, I was okay during the day -- I'll take sunshine any time.  The problem was going to grad hall (snazzy dinner) tonight when it had dipped into the thirties.  I'm retiring dresses for a while, I think...

TUESDAY
There are some benefits to getting up at dawn.
If you know me, you know I hate getting up early.  However, as a member of the boat club (I'm a novice rower), that may be part of my reality some days of the week.  Yesterday was not very cold and the early sunlight on the fields and river were actually quite lovely.  Plus, I was awake in plenty of time to finish a Latin translation for class later.

MONDAY
You know you're doing the right thing when...
I woke up on Monday, and as I was getting dressed, I started thinking about what I had coming up for the day.  And I realized that I was eager and excited to do all of them.  There was nothing I dreaded or just had to get through.  I finally know what it's like to love my "job"!  Wow, that's a new experience.  Don't get me wrong, there were amazing benefits to each of my previous gigs, but I didn't look forward to the day's duties in particular.  I hope this lasts!

Insight received + the joy of a "silent disco"

Warning: this is somewhat miscellaneous entry.

First, some insight I've received from people during the last week.  The DGS (Director of Graduate Studies) of the English faculty told us to think of our work as "only a PhD" -- that is, a specific project we are working on for a few years, for which we'll get a degree.  It is not our masterwork, defining everything about us.  He even claimed that any hurdles we have had to clear to get here were certainly harder than anything between us and the PhD.  Doctoral students, let the debate begin...

As for my particular research, I met with my supervisor earlier in the week.  She's wonderful, encouraging and friendly.  However, she did point out that I was sort of thinking of two different approaches, and I'll probably have to pick one.  So I picked up a bunch of books for background reading, and I'll check in with her in a couple weeks.  Now I just need to find time to do all that reading, as I'm attending far too many optional classes.  Heh.

And my final bit of insight was just too funny not to share.  I was at a department gathering, and I was talking to a Quebecoise gal and a British gal about physical contact or not in various cultures (hugs vs. bisous-style kisses, etc.).  The British girl summed up that in the UK, they have tea instead of hugs.  Semi-defensive explanation?  "It makes you warm!"

And finally, I leave you with my happy experience of this evening, a "silent disco" following our formal matriculation dinner.  (Briefly about dinner: tuxedoes and cocktail/semi-formal dresses under gowns, grace in Latin and fancy food, plus fellows [professors] distributed throughout the tables for conversation.)  A silent disco is basically like dancing at a club -- but they give you wireless headphones with two channels of DJs, and you can swap what music you're listening to.

This means you can usually find something you like -- especially because they were playing REAL SONGS and not just a house beat.  It also means you have the option to pull off the headphones and talk to someone.  It was perfect!  Plus the intimacy of headphones makes you more willing to dance like it's your living room.  :)  Not all is silence, though.  When "Don't Stop Believing" happened, most of the room was singing along -- which was kind of funny without the background music.

My college is so incredibly pretty

Apparently, Henry James said, "If I were called upon to mention the prettiest corner of the world, I should draw a thoughtful sigh and point the way to the gardens of Trinity Hall."  In honor of that quotation and of two whole days of sunshine in a row (I'm assured this is unusual), I present a few snapshots of my college.  It's small, but it's perfectly located and so pretty that I get a thrill just having the right to walk around it.

This shot is of the back garden.  I've walked through the first courtyard to take this.  Beyond the tree and library (the building on the right), you can see some steps and a couple people sitting on a railing.  That railing is on the River Cam, and people punt past it all day long.

Not wanting to look too much like a tourist, I took this modest self-portrait leaning against the railing, looking back toward the vantage point of the first picture.

I tilted up from my feet to show the back garden from the river's edge.  Now the library is on the left (with the crest above the door).  The archway back to the front quad is in shadow on the far right edge of the picture.

 This one's for the experts.  See if you can tell which spires belong to the famous King's College Chapel. (Incidentally, there's a much better view of it from the MCR, but this is more fun, don't you think?)

Societies fair = abundance of choices

Just a quick note to say that some acquaintances and I shoved our way through the insanely crowded societies' fair today.  There are literally hundreds, and in addition to every possible iteration of music, theater, and science group, there were some unusual candidates for attention.  Naturally, I made note of a few for your amusement.  Links included in case you don't believe me.

Cambridge University Mycological Society (fungi!)
The Pembroke College Winnie-the-Pooh Society
Cambridge University Heraldic & Genealogical Society
Cambridge University Tiddlywinks Club

...and at least TWO gaming societies.

The whole thing was quite a social experiment, because you had to try to figure out what a table was about without making eye contact or they would address you and then you'd feel guilty if you didn't give your email.  I put myself down for more things than I could ever do, on the theory that I could at least find out what's going on and then choose to go or not.  Two things I actually plan to follow up on: the Cambridge University Gilbert and Sullivan Society (apparently one of the richest societies here...) and the Trinity Hall Boat Club (rowing!  They swear they take it easy on novices).

Lessons learned so far

1) Supply and demand.

Everyone here needs a bicycle, and the advice I got from the MCR (grad student society in the college) was to do it right away because as the undergrads arrive this weekend they will all be bought up.  I walked ALL OVER Cambridge (several hours total, I think) looking at every shop I could, asking to look at the second-hand bikes.  Sadly, only a couple were in the 75-pound range, and they were huge and heavy.  Anything remotely decent was 120.  I wonder how much it would cost to ship mine...but then I don't want to risk having it stolen.

2) Never leave the house without a coat or umbrella.

It was sunny yesterday morning, so I foolishly thought that I didn't need my water gear.  It actually held until 7:00, when it started sprinkling just as I was walking to the MCR mingle event.  When I left to head home at 11:00, it was a healthy dousing though not a downpour.  Still, that's enough during a 20-25 minute walk home without rain gear.

I had a great time meeting lots of people at the MCR thing, then some more in my dorm, which led to staying up way too late.  I also bought my very own gown (let the Harry Potter jokes begin).  It's ridiculously exciting.

Smooth arrival

Hello everyone,
I'm going to shamelessly crib from some emails home to give you the run-down on my first few days in Cambridge.  The flights went really smoothly, and I met some fellow Americans (soon to be Cambridge grad students) on the bus.  I got my ID card and another info packet at Trinity Hall (my college), and that was about all for the first day's productivity.


Day 2

I got into housing the second day, happy to be out of the hostel.   Launcelot Fleming -- great name, no? -- is quite far (need a bike!) but a pleasant walk in terms of things to look at.  I ran into my new friends from the bus several more times at orientation and finally went bedding shopping with one of them.  I also stopped by the English department to find out when they are planning to orient us.  Oh yeah, and it RAINED nearly all day -- the day before had just been cloudy but pleasant.  It was nice and autumnal, but not great for schlepping in.

The room is basic and a little barren at the moment -- your typical dorm room.  I also can't fully unpack because I don't have hangers.  But it's roomy for one person and has its own sink.  WC and shower are tiny closets, but the complex is beautiful.