A Confirmed Francophile

So, we went to France. See, my mother-in-law went on her mission to Northern France, and since Thora's parents were visiting their grand-daughter here in the UK, they thought to pop over the Channel to visit her old haunts. I suggested, since we were going through all that trouble to visit the French Republic, we should visit one of the greatest cities in the world (which is to say Paris).

You see, I am, as most of my friends know a Francophile (and a Bonapartist to boot). I have spent my life defending the French language, French people and, most especially, the French military establishment. I have defended them from people who claimed that the Scots hate the French (clearly being unaware the Scottish alliance with the French is what kept Scotland independent for so long). I have defended them from people who claim that the real French flag is white, and against all of the usual slurs against the French people. I have never understood it, but I think it derives from the fact the French government has often disagreed with the policies of the American government. More like though, people are just ignorant. Anyway, suffice it to say that I have long been a lover of the French. I have studied the language, on my own for the most part (since my Hebrew studies didn't leave me much extra time). So, I jumped on the chance to visit France.

It was a splendid experience. I have often heard that the French are arrogant and off-putting of foreigners and especially Americans. I do not believe a word of it. I found the French to be pleasant and friendly, totally lacking the British reserve. The British are unfailingly polite, but not always very open. We had experiences where we were lost in Lille, and a woman took us into her own home, in order that Thora's mother could call her friends. She offered Lydia chocolate and was in general very friendly. I tried to speak French, with a fair amount of success. Nobody commented on my French, and indeed went out of their way to draw me in to conversation. I often had to say to Je ne comprends pas, but all in all we were able to communicate very nicely. In fact, my French got such a workout that I feel that my skills at speaking French have been upgraded from en petit peu (a very little bit) to en peu (a little bit), which is great progress.

In Paris we visited many wonderful things including the Louvre, which was as wonderful as I expected. Of course, of great importance to me was Les Invalides, and especially the Tomb of Napoleon the First, Emperor of the French and King of Italy. As I said before, I am, and long have been, a Bonapartist, for reasons which are difficult for me to articulate. One of the nicest things about visiting France was realizing that I was no longer the only one in a hundred mile radius who thought positive things about Bonaparte. It was an empowering experience (empowerment is a dangerous word, I know, but it was pretty cool all the same).

The other important thing I wish to mention is the visits to the French cathedrals of Notre Dame and Saint Denis, both of which were wonderful and beautiful. It reminded me of my love of the Middle Ages and of the Masons who built these churches. Saint Denis is the resting place of the kings of France, and is a holy place. It was a fascinating place to visit, since it was a monument to monarchy in France, a monarchy which did not end prettily in France, but it was still holy. Charles Martel, Pepin the Short, Louis XIV, and XV are all buried there, as well as Louis XVI and what is left of Louis XVII. Regrettably, Thora wasn't able to be there with me, because Lydia wasn't feeling well, but it was still a wonderful experience.

The trip was all in all wonderful. There were a number of stories which I would share, but which I will leave to Thora, such as being ten feet from the President of the French Republic and the various woes of travel. For myself it suffices me to say that I entered France a Francophile and left it further confirmed in my Francophile-ness. I will continue to defend France with a renewed vigor and from my own experiences. In short-- Vive la France!

I am back online. For those of you who do not read my wife's posts, I received a fine fellowship from The Ohio State University, and so will be studying there. My wife and I are very happy. Thank for everyone's prayers. I should be able back to writing soon. For one thing I have to write that post about my ambivalence towards the SCA, among other things. However, that will have to wait until next time.

Excelsior!

At The Bottom of the Barrel

So, I just heard back from Yale University. No dice.

Which leaves me very humbled. Three months ago, I was certain of my ability to do graduate work. I applied to six graduate programs, including some of the top programs in my field, confidant in my ability to be chosen as one of their candidates. I had a Masters degree from Oxford, good recommendations, a decent statement of purpose, and I was applying to schools where I thought I had a good fit with the faculty.

Now I am not sure why I was so confident. I only got into the two schools I considered my safety schools, and was denied funding at one of them, which hurts more than a reject, in some ways. Perhaps I chose the wrong road. I don't know what else I could have done, though. It goes without saying that you are never as good as you think you are, but it still hurts to be told it.

Ah well. All my hopes rely on one school, essentially.

Pray for me.

A Tribute

So, I woke up this morning and went to my usual websites. When I visited the Daily Illuminator at Steve Jackson Games' website, I was saddened to discover that E. Gary Gygax, one of the initial designers of the first role-playing game, Dungeons and Dragons, had died. I felt moved to say a few words in his honor.

I don't know why I am so affected by his death. I don't think I've read anything he has written. I only rarely play Dungeons and Dragons, and have never played any edition he authored.

However, he and Dave Arneson designed this game, and so spawned the hobby of adventure game, specifically of role-playing. Without Gary Gygax, as other writers on other sites have pointed out, there would be no role-playing, up to and including games such as World of Warcraft and its ilk. I don't do much online role-playing, but I do play pen and paper games, and without Dungeons and Dragons I would not be able to.

So, I felt that it was only right and proper that I set down a tribute to the man who, however indirectly, brought me Rokugan, Theah and Mythic Europe. I owe my acquaintance to Bubba Hall, Aleksander Veiltender and Mirumoto Takoni to the doors he opened. Time spent with my friends, time spent with my books, time spent in my imagination.

So I raise a parting glass to a man I never knew to thank him for the many hours of enjoyment and reflection which he has given me. I wish him Godspeed on his journey, and the hope of a glorious resurrection.

Game On!

Thoughts on Schools

It has been many weeks since I last wrote, as I am sure you are aware. I was doing so well at posting at regular intervals too, but alas, 'twas not to be (incidentally my Hebrew teacher here at Yarnton says 'twas and 'tis in regular conversation. It is not for him, as for me, an affection, and so all the cooler). I started a post several weeks ago, but was forced to leave, and I rarely finish a post if I am forced to leave it while writing. It is likely a weakness of mine, but one which I feel no especial desire to overcome. My lack of posting in the last few weeks has largely been because I have been busy with school and work and because my wife has of late often been on the Internet, checking up with schools and haunting the forums at the Chronicle of Higher Education in an attempt to get a better feel for what the world is like for Graduate Students. My wife dislikes having her future up in the air, so in order to counteract feelings of having no control of her future, she will spend time on the Internet learning as much as she can about all possible futures.

I have been myself thinking about Graduate School, of course, although I lack my wife's free time to spend on the topic, since, when coupled with my new job--which isn't very difficult, but which takes place during prime library study hours--my course load is much more advanced than it was last term. Add to that the fact that I have been sick for about two weeks (a disease which I am still recovering from), and it all adds up to my being very busy. However, I have been thinking about the two acceptances I have received, although neither of them are formal offers yet (a fact which drives my wife crazy, since there is no word about money--it turns out my wife is obsessed about money. Seriously, her theme song for the past two weeks has been "Money" by the Beatles). I know where I am leaning, but of course financial aid packages will play a huge part of the decision making process in my family. As Sam Spade said in the film version of The Maltese Falcon when discussing his pay before turning the girl in, "But a lot of money would have been at least one more item on your side of the scales." It may be that one school or the other has the better program. But in the end, we'll probably end up at the place that provides the best funding package. Crass of me? Perhaps. But as Twain once observed, I have found that ideals have little meaning on an empty stomach. Probably overstated, but the meaning is clear enough.

When I sat down to write this post, I had no clear idea about which to write. I had vague ideas of discussing some interesting rhetorical devices in the Psalms, but rejected those, largely because they need a knowledge of Hebrew, or at least the ability to look at the Hebrew. I thought about throwing out some ideas I have had for Book of Mormon papers, or even discussing my opinions on education and how it ought to go. I have a number of ideas, independent of home-schooling or not, which I think would greatly aid how children are taught, but which are somewhat controversial. I try to avoid controversy as much as possible, at least in this forum where it is so easy to offend, and so I have refrained. I also thought about posting about some ideas which I have had in regards to my fantasy fiction writing or to my role-playing, such as a list of my favorite role-playing characters, but regarded that as not being of general interest. And so, here you are, with a post on a few thoughts about getting into graduate school. Even that is cautious, because I do not wish to commit myself to one program or another at this early date. Perhaps, when I have chosen my school, I will post a joyful statement about how great it is that I am going to this program and working with that professor. Perhaps. But for now, I regret you must be content with this only.

Excelsior.

Response

One school is down. We found out today that Avram wasn't accepted to Duke. Not entirely unexpected, as they only have a four percent admittance rate in the Religion program. Last year our first response was an acceptance, and although I highly prefer that, I do still hope that there will be more positive news later.

A Confession

It is time for me to make a confession. It is a difficult confession, and one I have articulated to a few of my friends, but I feel it ought to be made. I have for most of my life kept it even from myself. This confession is prompted by my wife's post on her curriculum, with its primary emphasis on literature. As I make this confession, it is with the deepest apologies to my many friends and relations to whom this may come as a shock.

I don't like literature, or at least what some people call literature. There I said it. Mark Twain once defined classics as books “everybody wants to have read, but nobody wants to read.” That is how I feel about a lot of literature. There are few things that bother me more than a book that seems to be more concerned with making its point than telling a good story. If I wanted to read philosophy, I would (of course, closely related to this confession is the confession that I don't usually 'get' philosophy either). A good example of this is Wild Duck. There were some few good parts in it, but eventually they were lost in whatever weird point Ibsen was trying to make. It is funny, I feel as though by admitting these things, I am admitting to some sort character deficiency. It is sort of like saying that one prefers hamburgers to fine cuisine (which is probably true of me as well, so there you go). I feel as though I am somehow admitting that my tastes are not refined, and for a man who has spent most of his life attempting to refine his taste, and assume that he lived and thought at a certain imaginary level, this comes a powerful blow. So, dear reader, I think that perhaps this post is mostly written for my own benefit, with you taken along for the ride. I suppose that is the price you pay when you read something as idiosyncratic as a 'blog.

I love reading, both fiction and non-fiction, and indeed, reading is my chief hobby and one of the greatest joys in my life. However, I am afraid I am somewhat crass in my tastes. My wife will often tell me how much she loves to read classics, and she really does. She will often pick up a classic book (however such a thing is defined—in my field classics usually means something written in Greek or Latin) and read it. Now I enjoy many books that can be termed classics. I love Shakespeare. I have enjoyed Pride and Prejudice, and other books from that genre. I thought that Don Quixote was one of the best books I had read in a long while. However, I sometimes feel that when I like a classic book it is usually in spite of its classic status, not because of it. La Morte d'Artur by Sir Thomas Mallory may indeed be a classic, but it has knights, and chivalry and courtesy, and many wonderful beauties. Homer's Illiad is classic in any sense of the word, but I love it because it full of heroism and gods and fights, because it fires my blood. It almost makes me want to be a classicist (I wonder how many classicists were made by Homer. Probably innumerable). Basically, when I read a classic, I am reading a story, not literature, even if the book has literary merits. My point here is that for the most part the 'classics' I have enjoyed have not appealed to my intellectual snobbery (which unfortunately is there—ask me about television archaeology some time), but to the little boy who still lives inside me.

Perhaps that is it. Reading was my chief activity when I was a younger man. Maybe I grew up in everything else, but in this thing I have not yet grown up. Twain once compared the great books to wine and his to water. It turns out I prefer water to wine. This isn't really a bad thing. It just tends to limit what books I choose to read, and makes me feel guilty about the books I am not reading. So, to my dear friends who majored in literature (a frightening portion of my readers), I am sorry. I hope you understand. I certainly try to when people I know say they don't like the Old Testament. Maybe someday I will fully grow up, and find that I like Ibsen or Hunger, or other books of their ilk. But in the mean time, I am afraid I will continue to read for the little boy inside of me.

Excelsior!

The Tag

Well, I wasn't going to do this, but since Travis mentioned me by name, and my wife originated this (at least in my circle of friends) it seemed politic to answer this. Besides, who am I to buck a trend. Actually, I rather like bucking trends, but this once I shall forebear. You may thank me later.

Where I was ten years ago: Well, I was sixteen. I don't remember much else beside that. I was moody (who isn't at that age?), and home-schooled. I don't know, I am sure that something extraordinarily interesting was happening, but it didn't make enough of an impression upon to leap to my memory. Which, I suppose, also tells you something about me.

Where I was five years ago: I was 21, and recently returned from my mission. I was studying at Lord Fairfax Community College. I had a class in Biology that I was really enjoying and a great American History course. It was this semester that really cemented my opinion concerning the quality of education in the Virginia Community College system (although of course it has problems--show me a school that doesn't. Even Oxford has its own difficulties).

Where I was last year: I was finishing up my last semester at Brigham Young University for my Bachelors Degree in Ancient Near Eastern Studies. I had been married for two years, and Lydia was 10 months old. I was serving as a Teaching Assistant for Doctor David Seely. This was one of the greatest classes I ever had the privilege of taking. I was studying Hebrew and in general getting in those classes which I needed to graduate. I was also recently finished with applications to Graduate school and beginning the long wait until I heard back from schools.

What I did yesterday: Not much. I read a little Hebrew, read a little Lord of the Rings, played a little Neverwinter Nights 2 (not my bard, but my half-orc fighter). Mostly I relaxed, since classes start on Monday, in earnest.

Five snacks I enjoy: Um, pretzels, handfuls of dry cold cereal (especially Cherrios), cheese and crackers, carrots (they have good carrots here in England), and tortilla chips with refried beans.

Five things I would do with $100 Million: Only five things? A hundred million is a lot of simoleans. Well, first thing I would hire an investment banker, a tax lawyer and an accountant, who would help ensure that I properly took of my new millions, and live off the residual income for the rest of my life (and ideally my children's life, although that takes a little more work, although I don't believe estate taxes are as bad as they used to be). Then I'd pay off all my debt, because it is a piddly thing compared with my new wealth. Then I'd do things like pay for my schooling, and travel and stuff (although I hate travelling, and I'm not sure being filthy rich would change that any). After that, I'd probably start with little philanthropic deeds like paying off my parent's house and sending people on missions, and work my way up to bigger deeds like endowing a new Biblical Hebrew chair for BYU (it sorely needs one). I would probably name it after Don's grandmother, Bella, because I could and since she was the last practicing Jew in his family. I'd also set up a scholarship for students in the ANES major, because why should the Arabists get all the fun, and give the ANES chair in the Religion department the money it deserves. Maybe I'd build the BYUSA a special building just for clubs to meet in, with an industrial kitchen for clubs to use. I'd set up a fund for scholarships to Yarnton Manor, because charitable giving has fallen off in recent years. I'd probably give a million to to the Bodleian Library, just so I get my name on that plaque with King James and company. It sort of goes without saying I'd buy those RPG books that I currently want, but can't afford, like GURPS Magic and GURPS Fantasy. When you have a hundred million dollars, forty bucks is less than a drop in the bucket. With a hundred million, I would be worth more, a lot more than, than the annual income of most gaming companies. I don't know if that is five things or not, but this is going far longer than it ought, since I have to work hard to scrape together $100, let alone $100,000,000.

Five places I would run away to: Monterey, CA; Israel; Egypt; Portland, OR; Provo, UT (I miss the States; this would probably be a different list if I weren't currently living abroad).

Five TV shows I like (in times past, since it has been many years since I watched a new show): Fraggle Rock, M*A*S*H, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Muppet Babies, The Real Ghostbusters (a sampling of shows I loved, and some I like to watch now).

Five things I hate doing: Cold calling, practicing noun declensions, putting myself forward, taking baths (I miss my shower), dealing with yucky food.

Five biggest joys at the moment: Reading the Lord of the Rings, starting up school again, watching my daughter grow, singing silly songs with her, and designing a fantasy world.

Five people I tag: I will refrain from doing so (mostly because all my friends have already done so).

Excelsior!