My time as a free-floating, course-taking student is ending.
I met with the Director of Graduate Studies today to select my final classes, and discuss the necessities and opportunities of formally selecting my graduate committee. I'm satisfied with whatever courses or seminars I land in, because I enjoy learning everything (except Edmund Burke, it turns out). Unfortunately, I can't learn everything all the time. Specifically, reading for my exams will require that I focus my study with the view of landing, after sliding down the rainbow of theory and literature, at a dissertation pot of gold, ie. a solid thesis. My area of study during my reading year (and adjacent areas) will define my marketability in academia, and my Director gave the impression (by stating it quite frankly) that dividing my areas of study too far would decrease my marketability by dividing my attention.
I am stuck. I have some brilliant ideas and years of solid coursework in the Romantic era, and 18th/19th Century Literature, but an overwhelming passion for James Joyce - not any of the other Modernists (though I have some background in the Decadents, Aesthetes, and Post-Colonialists, adjacently) - but Joyce as a writer. I want to be a Joycean for the rest of my life.
Apparently, I have fully recovered from my committment issues.
My mother's advice is to stick to the Romantics. Eve's advice is to go where the money is (really? If money motivated me, why would I study literature?). Anne Jamison might have more pertinent advice. She too reads Joyce, but is teaching a course on Vic Lit (I think) next semester. Her current area of study is Kafka and Christina Rosetti. Frighteningly brilliant. Becky warned me about this situation, having been in it herself just a few weeks ago. She studies Rhet/Comp at ASU. Her theory is reassuring, but doesn't necessarily match the fears I have from Howard's little chat.
Becky's theory: We must make decisions/committments to achieve our potential. The act of committing allows us to travel further along a specific trajectory, and does not necessarily preclude the possibility of adjusting our directional momentum. The restrictive nature of deciding creates the momentum, and refusing to decide creates inertia. Once we have achieved momentum, we can alter our course by applying the necessary force, which is still easier than overcoming inertia. Becky is a genius too.
I am not a genius. I'm just smart enough, and just hard-working enough to succeed, but only if I make the decision to excise a mental limb. With my teeth. If only the decision were more like ejecting TARDIS rooms. *sigh*
