[lit-ideas] Re: The Education of a Swain

In a message dated 4/28/2009 7:30:35 P.M.  Eastern Daylight Time,
john.mccreery@xxxxxxxxx writes:
Why sweat to get one  if that's not what you are interested in anyway?

----

Exactly, and  thanks to J. McC. and Ur. S. for their replies.

Exactly. But then,  perhaps it's easy for us, JMcC and me to say because we
have, as they call it,  'maximal degrees' (a PhD). If I see myself before
having the PhD, I did think  there was something incompleat with me. I _had_
to get it. It was pretty easy  for me to get it. My parents supported me, my
whole life supported me. In some  programmes, it's the _exit_ which is
torture -- for me, to _earn_ the PhD was  quite a thing: doctorate seminars,
sotto voce public defense of PhD  dissertation, etc.

----

In retrospect, yes, I would think  that,

"J L Speranza is a doctor" is not really _essential_ to me, or  anything.
Indeed, in most circumstances (when I'm out in a bar, say), I don't  use it
(like Orton, I say, "I'm a trucker"; it works better" -- only I don't  smell
like one.

------

I cannot speak on behalf of any other than  myself. In my case, the degree
was important, the 'paper' as Ursula has it. The  'shit' I went for it, I
was patient and did suffer it. The good of it was my  participation in
doctorate seminars, the production of my dissertation, my  meeting with my 
advisor
and thesis director. Etc.

At the _grad_ level (as  a PhD programme is) you do get a mingling of the
research -- education thing  with the _teaching_ thing. Grad students are
_expected_ to carry a bit of a  teaching load. And in areas like philosophy,
indeed, becoming a 'tutor' or  someone involved in the 'teaching' of your
field of expertise is almost  required, if not _legally_.

With my PhD 'diploma' under my arm, I did  feel my connection with my alma
mater had sort of ceased. And in retrospect, I  don't regret any course I
took, had to take, etc. But I'm much more than my  'education', or the getting
of the 'educating of Rita'.

The good  students, I find, already come from an excellent background, and
the uni is just  something where they can 'shine'.

The Gentleman C idea is a good one, and  I really cannot connect with
Harvard in the 1890s. But when I _was_ visiting  Harvard, I did get a copy of an
old Harvard Book, so called, which has this  _BEAUTIFUL_ short story,
"Philosophy 4", available online, and which we have  discussed with Geary on 
this
list.

I read that piece, and put myself in  the role of the philosophy professor,
and cannot say I'd agree with the author  McC. quotes. I sympathise rather
with the two students who try their best at  showing creativity and talent.
On the other hand, the studious type is not so  valuable to me. I will quote
from the ending section of that short story,  because I would think NO ONE
can connect with that poul soul of not such good  breeding was so green with
envy.

----

Some six mornings later,  when the Professor returned their papers to them,
their minds were washed almost  as clear of Plato and Thales as were their
bodies of yesterday's dust. The dates  and doctrines, hastily memorized to
rattle off upon the great occasion, lay only  upon the surface of their
minds, and after use they quickly evaporated. To their  pleasure and most 
genuine
astonishment, the Professor paid them high  compliments. Bertie's
discussion of the double personality had been the most  intelligent which had 
come in
from any of the class. The illustration of the  intoxicated hack-driver who
had fallen from his hack and inquired who it was  that had fallen, and then
had pitied himself, was, said the Professor, as  original and perfect an
illustration of our subjective-objectivity as he had met  with in all his
researches. And Billy's suggestions concerning the inherency of  time and space
in the mind the Professor had also found very striking and  independent,
particularly his reasoning based upon the well-known distortions of  time and
space which hashish and other drugs produce in us. This was the sort of 
thing which the Professor had wanted from his students: free comment and
discussions, the spirit of the course, rather than any strict adherence to the
letter. He had constructed his questions to elicit as much individual
discussion  as possible and had been somewhat disappointed in his hopes.
Yes, Bertie and  Billy were astonished. But their astonishment did not
equal that of Oscar, who  had answered many of the questions in the Professor's
own language. Oscar  received seventy-five per cent for this achievement—a
good mark. But Billy's  mark was eighty-six and Bertie's ninety. "There is
some mistake," said Oscar to  them when they told him; and he hastened to the
Professor with his tale. "There  is no mistake," said the Professor. Oscar
smiled with increased deference.  "But," he urged, "I assure you, sir, those
young men knew absolutely nothing. I  was their tutor, and they knew nothing
at all. I taught them all their  information myself." "In that case,"
replied the Professor, not pleased with  Oscar's tale-bearing, "you must have
given them more than you could spare. Good  morning."
Oscar never understood. But he graduated considerably higher than  Bertie
and Billy, who were not able to discover many other courses so favorable  to
"orriginal rresearch" as was Philosophy 4. That is twenty years ago, To-day
Bertie is treasurer of the New Amsterdam Trust Company, in Wall Street;
Billy is  superintendent of passenger traffic of the New York and Chicago Air
Line. Oscar  is successful too. He has acquired a lot of information. His
smile is unchanged.  He has published a careful work entitled "The Minor Poets
of Cinquecento," and  he writes book reviews for the Evening Post."

JLS

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