Writing a bad piece of writing
I am writing here tonight because, theoretically, this post could be seen by someone, but in all likelihood it will not be. You will see in a moment why I'd rather hide this post.
I don't want to dwell for long on this subject, but I've got to get these thoughts out there. You know how most people will feel a sense of love and pride seeing their final dissertation all nicely printed in a tidy little bundle? Well, not me. I mean, sure, a part of me will feel that. But a larger part will feel as I've felt writing it: like it's not enough of what I want it to be.
Let me explain.
A dissertation is supposed to demonstrate one's knowledge on a particular subject or set of subjects. It's supposed to sound authoritative and clear every step of the way. It involves something akin to a prosecutor's task, for the author bears the burden of proof. He or she must show how the available evidence fits together in defense of a well defined idea. The whole thing is a giant persuasive essay that ought to resemble a well-ordered creature. Of necessity, there will be unanswered questions and flaws in the work, but the author must strive as much as possible to mitigate against uncertainties and weaknesses. It is expected that the reader will weigh each argument and counter-argument and counter-argument to the counter-argument, and if the side of the thesis weighs heaviest, then the dissertation passes. It's about victory. Winning someone over. Coming out on top.
This is not the sort of thing I wish to write. I know, I know. As Matt has asked me many a time, "If that's not what you want to write, then why are you going into academia?"
It's not that I want to eschew argumentation. It has its place of course. It's just that I think it's important to acknowledge the limitations of human knowledge. To recognize the joy in not knowing. To find goodness in the journey itself-- layers that only ever reveal more layers, whirling you around in so many circles that you often times feel mad. There's something beautiful and miraculous about this, our desire to know. Desire because it's never satisfied. We eat of the fruit of good and evil, and what happens? We no longer know God. The Tree of Knowledge is, it seems, a paradox. Or at least a misnomer. Ironic, isn't it? (And screw anyone who criticizes Alanis for using a word the popular way).
To take paradox, confusion, feeling, and self-discovery out of one's writing is to strip it of its life. And that's what a "good" dissertation requires. Were I to admit weakness, to make a bad argument deliberately (much in the manner of Socrates), to leave questions unanswered, I would fail immediately. To be sure, I have developed some ways around the requirements. Some ways of almost inadvertently qualifying arguments and raising questions beneath the radar. But on the surface there is the argument. It is an argument I believe in, and for good reason. But... Believe. That sums it up. It sums everything up. And yet, nothing.
At the end of the day, the dissertation must be finished. And it must meet the requirements. I am at an age where I'm willing to bow and give that much. But here is how I feel about it all. It's in the title (and I don't mean of this post).
I don't want to dwell for long on this subject, but I've got to get these thoughts out there. You know how most people will feel a sense of love and pride seeing their final dissertation all nicely printed in a tidy little bundle? Well, not me. I mean, sure, a part of me will feel that. But a larger part will feel as I've felt writing it: like it's not enough of what I want it to be.
Let me explain.
A dissertation is supposed to demonstrate one's knowledge on a particular subject or set of subjects. It's supposed to sound authoritative and clear every step of the way. It involves something akin to a prosecutor's task, for the author bears the burden of proof. He or she must show how the available evidence fits together in defense of a well defined idea. The whole thing is a giant persuasive essay that ought to resemble a well-ordered creature. Of necessity, there will be unanswered questions and flaws in the work, but the author must strive as much as possible to mitigate against uncertainties and weaknesses. It is expected that the reader will weigh each argument and counter-argument and counter-argument to the counter-argument, and if the side of the thesis weighs heaviest, then the dissertation passes. It's about victory. Winning someone over. Coming out on top.
This is not the sort of thing I wish to write. I know, I know. As Matt has asked me many a time, "If that's not what you want to write, then why are you going into academia?"
It's not that I want to eschew argumentation. It has its place of course. It's just that I think it's important to acknowledge the limitations of human knowledge. To recognize the joy in not knowing. To find goodness in the journey itself-- layers that only ever reveal more layers, whirling you around in so many circles that you often times feel mad. There's something beautiful and miraculous about this, our desire to know. Desire because it's never satisfied. We eat of the fruit of good and evil, and what happens? We no longer know God. The Tree of Knowledge is, it seems, a paradox. Or at least a misnomer. Ironic, isn't it? (And screw anyone who criticizes Alanis for using a word the popular way).
To take paradox, confusion, feeling, and self-discovery out of one's writing is to strip it of its life. And that's what a "good" dissertation requires. Were I to admit weakness, to make a bad argument deliberately (much in the manner of Socrates), to leave questions unanswered, I would fail immediately. To be sure, I have developed some ways around the requirements. Some ways of almost inadvertently qualifying arguments and raising questions beneath the radar. But on the surface there is the argument. It is an argument I believe in, and for good reason. But... Believe. That sums it up. It sums everything up. And yet, nothing.
At the end of the day, the dissertation must be finished. And it must meet the requirements. I am at an age where I'm willing to bow and give that much. But here is how I feel about it all. It's in the title (and I don't mean of this post).