25 July 2008

An Argument against Moral Relativism

I'd like to say I've always held that moral relativism is an illusion, but I can't quite be certain about that--there may have been some places in high school that I succumbed to the pressure of liberal peers all participating in Model United Nations. However, somewhere between all the reading of C.S. Lewis and growing up, I've come to believe that so-called moral relativists are mostly in denial. They fixate on an aspect of morality that most people have known about since biblical times and claim that it's new and enlightened, while those who practiced it in the past were hypocritical.

I bring up this topic because of a very interesting review of Batman: The Dark Knight that I just read in the Wall Street Journal. Quotage:

Leftists frequently complain that right-wing morality is simplistic. Morality is relative, they say; nuanced, complex. They're wrong, of course, even on their own terms.

Left and right, all Americans know that freedom is better than slavery, that love is better than hate, kindness better than cruelty, tolerance better than bigotry. We don't always know how we know these things, and yet mysteriously we know them nonetheless.

The true complexity arises when we must defend these values in a world that does not universally embrace them -- when we reach the place where we must be intolerant in order to defend tolerance, or unkind in order to defend kindness, or hateful in order to defend what we love.

I can't vouch for the accuracy of their analysis of the film, but the moral argument rings true to me.

21 July 2008

Baby by Numbers: Beginning of the End

  • 2/3 - of the way through my pregnancy on Friday. Third trimester, here we come!
  • 1/3 - done with baby Busby's Wild Stripes blanket. And George thought it wouldn't get done in time. I had my doubts about the color substitution, but it looks really nice so far.
  • 62 - number of miles I've biked over the past month accompanying George on his long marathon training runs on Saturdays. Don't worry, there's not a lot of physical exertion involved in keeping up with a runner, even an awesome one like my hubby. However, I wish I had some exercise pants with more support for my enlarging maternal tummy. After 3 hours of bumping up and down, little Wilson is very angry.
  • 6 - names for baby Busby we brainstormed last week running that start with the letter J: Jack, Jacob, James, Jonathan, Joseph, Jonas. In methodical Busby fashion, we decided it would be most efficient to simply work our way through the alphabet for names we might actually feel comfortable calling our baby. It's very strange to face the prospect of coming up with permanent identification for another human being. Other popular letters include C (Caleb, Christian, Conner, Clayton), G (George, Grant, Gregory, Gabriel), and S (Samuel, Stephen, Saul). Please regard all information as to Wilson's actual name as a rumor pending further confirmation in 3 months. :D
  • 2 - times I threw up Saturday. Probably because I ate an entire container of movie popcorn, followed by several Oreos, and an apple. Dang baby won't let me get away with eating junk.
  • 1 - cute knitted baby hat a lady in the ward gave to us at the Friday night game night. I love it so much. It made me realize that I'm happy to be having a winter baby. Bundled up babies are so adorable.
  • 4 - days left on my temp job and George's internship. Wow, our time in Washington has flown. I'm really excited to go home. Our corporate housing feels like a hotel, right down to the lack of overhead lighting in the living area. (What makes people think that sporadic lamps will be enough? It never works.)
  • 1:58 - length of our flight back to Utah. Hopefully I won't feel too sick.

28 June 2008

Understanding Washington

In most states, weather advisories are issued when there's going to be heavy rain.

Today in Redmond, there's a non-precipitation advisory in effect. Good to know it's not going to rain until Sunday afternoon.

That, my friends, is Washington.

26 June 2008

Temporary Name

So I got sick of referring to baby as Baby; therefore I've given it, er, him, a temporary name: Eggar Albert Wilson Busby. I call him Wilson, ala Cast Away: he looks like a volleyball under my shirt and I feel slightly crazy talking to/about him.

Cute little Wilson.

And my yarn for the Wild Stripes blanket arrived today! Yay for having something to do on the bus that won't make me sick.

19 June 2008

The Answer


Even though that last one may look like a dinosaur, the doctors have assured me that it's definitely a baby . . . a baby boy! Wow, my commenters are so smart, or lucky. Any of you want to buy some lottery tickets for me? Anyway, George and I are both really happy and excited.

Now on to the name game. You're welcome to offer suggestions, which I will probably ignore. George's dad says if he's born on Oct 27th, we have to name him after George's grandfather (also George Edward Busby), but George isn't really sure. I personally am fond of the name we found reading the D&C that morning: Ruggles. Draco is also a good possibility if he has his father's hair. Or Earnest?

No, really, we're looking for something normal.

18 June 2008

The Question

Today's the day we find the answer to the question: is it a baby or an exotic South American parasite? The answer will be posted later this evening. Take a guess if you like.

05 June 2008

Baby by Numbers

So after having been chastized directly ("So. . . I just noticed the ratio of posts to your blog in the last three years.") and indirectly ("Now I know the big secret. . . . : Real writers write everyday.") by two of the best writers I know, I'm going to try to bring this blog into a comeback. No, for reals this time. At first, I had too little time to blog (honors thesis/finals), but lately I've had too much time to blog. That may not make sense unless you've spent a month alone in a new apartment in a neighborhood you don't know with no car. That's a recipe for ennui if I ever knew one--I couldn't get up the energy to read, much less write to my witty standard. But now that I have a part-time job, things are a lot better. I still only work 4 hours a day and it's temp work, but it's enough to force my brain to come out of hibernation and think about things.

During all that filing and stapling, I've been contemplating a little feature which I hope to make semi-regular on this blog for the next few months--i.e. until the baby arrives. After reading a bunch of websites and magazines on pregnancy, I'm highly bored with the standard pregnancy story. The excitement, the worries, all of that is all pretty much the same. At the same time, I know my friends want to be informed of my pregnancy progress. I've decided these two problems can be reconciled with the writer's favorite tool for adding interest to standard subjects: innovative formatting! And without further ado, I present "Baby by Numbers":

  • 245 - bus I ride to work which still sometimes makes me sick, even though the morning sickness has mostly subsided. It doesn't help when the bus driver is a displaced chain-smoking cowboy.
  • 5 - days at my temp job before somebody figured out I was pregnant.
  • 12 - colors in this "Wild Stripes" baby blanket I want to knit. Baby things that aren't in pastel? Sign me up! I don't know why I'm so against pastel--probably because they wash me out. Unfortunately, a lot of the recommended colors are discontinued. I'm terrified to try to pick out 12 colors that will work together! Help?
  • 3-5 - times I wake up each night. It's getting really hard to sleep. Three factors are combining to ruin my sleep: I am getting bigger and therefore more difficult to position, the bed at our corporate housing is uncomfortable (I miss our IKEA bed), and the sheets and blankets refuse to stay put and get all wrinkley. Did I mention that straight sheets and blankets are my OCD obsession? I cannot sleep on things that are wrinkley and slide around.
  • 1 - baby blankets I currently own.
  • 1 - baby outfits I currently own. I expect these last two in increase dramatically very soon because . . .
  • 14 - days until my ultrasound on June 18th! George and I can't wait to find out it it's a boy or a girl; it'll make the whole we're-going-to-have-a-baby thing a lot more real.
  • 21 - weeks until baby is due. For those of you who don't speak pregnancy, that'd be 4-5 months. :D

16 May 2008

A Landmark

Yesterday was a landmark day in the history of my pregnancy. I was walking through downtown Seattle by the Space Needle with Julie and her 6 month-old baby, Abby. Some lady noticed Abby--there are very few babies in Seattle--and said, "Oh, what a cute baby! How old is she?" Then she looked at me and said, "And it looks like you're expecting too."

A risky statement I probably wouldn't have made as a by-stander, but nonetheless, yay!

Granted, the shirt I was wearing exaggerates the size of my belly, but nonetheless, yay!

01 May 2008

Department Elevators

I've been wondering for a while now if the behavior of the elevators in a building can tell you something about the people who work there.

For example, there is a bank of two elevators in the JKB on BYU campus. One of these elevators will always be on the second floor, the main floor. If you call an elevator on the second floor, step in, and press a button, the elevator doors will remain open until the other elevator has returned to the second floor to take its place. You can actually hear the second elevator dinging down the floors as you stand there in your wide-open elevator looking like an idiot. If you call an elevator on the fourth floor and one elevator is in the basement picking people up while the other is idle on the second floor, which elevator will come to get you? Not the completely unused one on the second floor (remember the importance of manning the main level!), but the one in the basement which is full of people and will probably stop at the second floor anyway on its way up. By the way, this building houses some of the humanities department. In the other humanities building, the elevators talk.

Consider by contrast the elevator in the computer science wing of the TMCB. There is only one elevator, so it always comes to your floor. When it arrives, it dings twice to let you know its there. However, if you push a button before it finishes dinging, the elevator cuts off, mid-ding, closes, and immediately zips you up to the floor you wanted. This elevator is smart enough to know that when you push a button, it means you actually wanted to go to that floor. And quickly. Imagine that.

But then again, the fact that I've taken the time to figure out the elevator behavior tells something about me.

12 April 2008

Two Powerpoints

I find the contrast between the two powerpoints I'm making today quite humorous. They also illustrate the idiosyncrasy of my education--I pretty much only write about things I'm interested in. To hell if they don't match other people's conceptions of classic English major subjects.



And now to write my 20-page medieval exegesis of T.S. Eliot's "Four Quartets." Sigh.

10 April 2008

The Poets are at their Windows

This is my favorite poem from the Billy Collins reading at BYU the other month. His description of the "hard work" of writing is extremely true: if only those cooks and clerks understood how hard staring out windows is! I'm not sure of the stanza spacing of this poem, since as I said, I hear it aloud, and I'm copying the text from Amazon's product description. Oh well. Enjoy it anyway.

Monday

The birds are in their trees,
the toast is in the toaster,
and the poets are at their windows.
They are at their windows
in every section of the tangerine of earth-
the Chinese poets looking up at the moon,
the American poets gazing out
at the pink and blue ribbons of sunrise.
The clerks are at their desks,
the miners are down in their mines,
and the poets are looking out their windows
maybe with a cigarette, a cup of tea,
and maybe a flannel shirt or bathrobe is involved.
The proofreaders are playing the ping-pong
game of proofreading,
glancing back and forth from page to page,
the chefs are dicing celery and potatoes,
and the poets are at their windows
because it is their job for which
they are paid nothing every Friday afternoon.
Which window it hardly seems to matter
though many have a favorite,
for there is always something to see-
a bird grasping a thin branch,
the headlights of a taxi rounding a corner,
those two boys in wool caps angling across the street.
The fishermen bob in their boats,
the linemen climb their round poles,
the barbers wait by their mirrors and chairs,
and the poets continue to stare
at the cracked birdbath or a limb knocked down by the wind.
By now, it should go without saying
that what the oven is to the baker
and the berry-stained blouse to the dry cleaner,
so the window is to the poet.
Just think-
before the invention of the window,
the poets would have had to put on a jacket
and a winter hat to go outside
or remain indoors with only a wall to stare at.
And when I say a wall,
I do not mean a wall with striped wallpaper
and a sketch of a cow in a frame.
I mean a cold wall of fieldstones,
the wall of the medieval sonnet,
the original woman's heart of stone,
the stone caught in the throat of her poet-lover.


-Billy Collins

05 April 2008

April 2008 General Conference: Saturday Morning

Once again, I'm live-blogging conference. Refresh for new comments as the talks are given.

10:26 - D. Todd Christofferson as the new apostle, eh? I was really banking on a spanish-speaking apostle this time, but oh well. Looks like lawyer-affirmative action strikes again. I wonder what Hugh Nibley would have to say about the population of lawyers in the apostles . . . . Also, I'm interested that the Young Women and Relief Society were acknowledged separately. I was under the impression that the Young Women was more of a program than an actual Church body. I may have to change the way I think about the YW program.

10:40 - Russel M. Nelson (Apostle) - "The gospel is an individual matter--each is born individually, thus each is born again individually." "We cannot be released as parents." Yay! A talk on parenting! (I apologize in advance that I'm probably going to latch onto every quote having anything to do with children. You understand.) "The Church is to assist and not replace parents in their duty to raise children." Teach your children to believe in God, to honor their parents. It seems that parenting is a matter of rhetoric, largely--learning to pursuade and not force. "Salvation is an individual matter, exaltation is a family matter." I should really write sometime about the distinction between salvation and exaltation--it's really one of the most glorious principles of the restored gospel because it clears up so many things.

10:54 - Ronald A. Rasband (Presidency of the Seventy) - Experiences as the building blocks of faith: sounds like the doctrine of the personal essay. :D Everyone needs "a personal treasury of experiences." I think this is one of the reasons I write personal essays--because I want to remember my store of experiences.

11:03 - Cheryl C. Lant (Primary General President) - The gospel as a family tradition--interesting idea. At first I have a bad reaction to this, since we don't want people being members of the Church simply because their parents are. They need their own testimonies. But how often is a person's family tradition a barrier to their reception of the gospel? And I think there's a difference between making the gospel a tradition and simply being a member. It means making the gospel more than a checklist; it ought to be something we celebrate and enjoy. In that way, the gospel as a tradition can be a positive thing: "traditions of righteousness," not something we mindlessly do, but something we want to return to because it meant something to us as a child.

11:14 - Kenneth Johnson (Seventy) - Ooh, scientific analogy! Discovering the principles of the gospel as scientists have discovered natural laws. I like this analogy because it allows the teachings of the Church to change easily with new revelations--we're discovering new gospel principles, line upon line. President Monson: "Youth need fewer critics and more models." Additionally, no matter how much we want to change them, gospel principles are not a matter of common consent, just as natural laws. George says, "Who votes that gravity goes down?"

11:27 - Joseph B. Wirthlin (Apostle) - Interesting to hear testimony of the personality of the First Presidency. Addressed "the erroneous idea that all within the Church should be the same." Have compassion for those different than us. "Don't be held back because you feel inadequate." "Church leaders ought to be mindful of the limitations of members." "To those who have strayed because they have been offended, can't you set those things aside?" "To those who have strayed because of doctrinal concerns, we don't apologize for that. . . . But the foolishness of God is stronger than men." Way to tow the line, Elder Wirthlin, you rock!

11:53 - Henry B. Eyring (First Counselor in the First Presidency) - "The keys of the Priesthood remain on the earth so long as we have faith in them and that they are being passed down." Disobedience and loss of faith caused the loss of the priesthood in the Apostasy, as the apostles died without passing on the keys. Sustaining our leaders requires repentance for our own sins. So long as we are faithful, the Church will remain on the earth. This talk seems really old fashioned to me--talking a lot about what we have to do to keep the Church from falling under condemnation and how the Church is being prepared for the return of the Savior.

UPDATE: Ha ha, well so much for the other sessions. Saturday morning is always my favorite anyway.

02 April 2008

April is the Cruellest Month

For National Poetry Month, I'm going to share a few of my favorite poems, both by me and by much better poets. I can't promise it'll be every day, but I'm going to try. This will be a bit of a stretch since I'm not a huge reader of poetry, but maybe it'll force me outside my shell and get me to remember the ones that I like. I like the idea of reading poetry, but actually doing it is pretty hard. Very few collections of modern poetry are readable outside of a classroom setting, with someone to guide you through them.

I'm sorry for the cop out of starting with such a famous poem, but I can't help thinking of the irony that April is NaPoMo when I read these words. Also, for a student at BYU with no spring break forthcoming, at least the first part of April is always the cruelest. This is also one of the more lucid passages from "The Wasteland"--besides the chess match, which I also love. I like Eliot's very British reflection on the character of the seasons. It seems that as a suburbanite, I tend to not notice their character as much as I do the inconveniences they cause me. I'd like to be more British in that way--to have a knowledge of the seasons planted in my brain.

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.

-T.S. Eliot, "The Wasteland" (lines 1-11)

31 March 2008

In Which I Have an Announcement to Make

Or rather several. This blog has fallen severely behind on my personal life. Don't worry; classes will be over in 2.5 weeks and then I am done with my undergrad, leaving much more time for the important things in life, like blogging.

On to business, from least important to most:

  • I'm playing a very interesting ARG (alternate reality game) in connection with the upcoming summer olympics entitled "The Lost Ring," which is about the suppression of a secret olympic sport and the synchronization of alternate universes. If you're interested in conspiracy theories, weird quantum science fiction, or translating stuff from Esperanto, you should check out the wiki and get involved. If I can find ten other people in the area, maybe we can try playing the lost sport of the olympics--labyrinth running!
  • Our car got squashed on St. Patrick's day, all because we decided to get pizza instead of cooking. After picking up the food, George parked in a really nice spot near our complex's parking lot entrance, which is usually great, except that someone in a blasted U-Hall didn't notice the 6' height clearance bar. They plowed into it and knocked one of the supporting beams down on the hood of our car. Of all the lameness! The car still runs, but we'd like to be able to open up the hood again, especially since our car eats oil and needs a refill every few weeks. Alas, it could take a while to be repaired since no one's insurance wants to take responsibility for the accident . . . .
  • I won first place in the Vera Hinckley Mayhew essay contest! The winners aren't up on the website yet, but I thought I'd link that in case anyone cared to find out more (especially you future BYU students). First place is $300, which marks the first time I've been paid for writing since 8th grade when a poem I wrote was in the top ten in some Rocky Mountain youth poetry contest--I got $50 dollars. I guess that means that a high school and (almost) college diploma have earned me a 600% pay increase?
  • A shortened version of the essay that won said contest is being published in Segullah this summer, so keep an eye out for it. I've also got a book notice coming out in the Journal of Mormon History, but that won't have a byline, so it's not as exciting.
  • [UPDATE:] I also won third place in the David O. McKay essay contest. Which makes me a runner-up to the most awesome writer I know: Brooke Larson. Plus publication and money. Am I bragging? Well, I won't put a dollar amount, mostly since I can't find it online anywhere and I haven't gotten an official letter from them yet. :D
  • I'm having a baby! I'm 9.5 weeks along now, which means that the baby is due on Halloween-ish. I'm really deadly sick right now, which is making it difficult to finish up classwork, but supposedly most morning sickness goes away around week 12-14. I can only pray.

04 March 2008

Heidegger and Mormonism: A Possible Literary Aesthetic

Another cross post from Mormon Renaissance--please leave comments over there.


In my last post, I discussed the idea of Mormon literature as an aesthetic–an idea of how writing should be, rather than a specific genre. I briefly mentioned one possibility for a Mormon aesthetic, the idea of respect towards all human beings and the belief in the power of human choice. Many commenters rightly suggested that this idea is not unique to Mormonism–it is a general Christian, or even humanist, ideal.

So I’d like to present another possible “Mormon” mode of writing, this one derived from the philosophies of Heidegger. The major realization of Heidegger’s philosophy is that one can gain only so much from creating a system of knowledge. He believes that conceptual knowledge is reductive of reality, imposing limitations where none exist. The key to overcoming the barrier of human thought is not more human thought but human experience, for in situations that our intellect cannot make sense of, our experience has no trouble participating. As a result of this emphasis on experience, Heidegger thought that writing ought not to seek systematic views but out to be participated in as an experience–a poem should not represent a world view, but be experienced as a world of its own. This idea about writing seems to fit well with Mormon conceptions of what the written word can do and what it is.

I have often wondered over the fact that there is no explicit written Mormon theology. Sure, we have our scriptures and the Articles of Faith, which serve as at least a foundation, but when you think about it, they define only a very basic outline of our faith. It’s extremely easy to find points that can be and have been interpreted in multiple ways. And outside of scripture, any theological Mormon writings are a very delicate balance. Do we have room in our society for someone like CS Lewis, whose theological writings are mostly logic based rather than scripture or modern prophets? I don’t think so: I have yet to read any good logic-based theology from any LDS author. Yes, we have scholars like Hugh Nibley, but even those types are viewed warily from inside the establishment, and from outside of the establishment, it’s clear that they don’t derive LDS theology but use it as their assumption and continue from there. There seems to be a general perception that theological writings could get too scholarly and therefore detract from testimony and revelation.

From within Church correlated literature, the same is true: the ideas stay at a superficial level, never diving into the deep and controversial questions. I often feel a frustration over the fact that the Church doesn’t issue statements solving some of these basic controversial issues (particularly, of course, the ones on which I am right and other people are wrong, if they could only just understand properly). For this reason—not having a highly codified collection of doctrines like the Summa Theologica—Mormonism has often been called an orthopraxic religion, one that cares more about practice than an orthodoxic religion which emphasizes belief. This designation often feels like an accusation, and as a Mormon, I tend to be resistive to anyone who calls my religion a system of practices rather than a mode of belief. From this point of view, it would seem that writing in Mormonism is a futile exercise. The only texts that could be produced are essentially dogmatic propaganda or instructional books on practices.

But perhaps Mormonism is not really really all about practices but about their results. Like Heidegger, Joseph Smith believed there were some things that could not be understood only with words. When he commanded his followers to know the nature of God, he did not mean that we should be able to define Him in vague theological terms: to know the nature of God is not a command to study or think about him. In Mormonism, it is a command to reach out a meet him, face to face (a term that Levinas surely would have approved of). We believe that a knowledge of truth comes mostly through experience. The Book of Mormon is full of instances in which God told things to men which could not be written with language, not just that they were forbidden to write these things, but that they were unable to do so, perhaps because of the nature of language. Written things are seen as a limiting force in our religion.

Even our demand for correct practices, like daily scripture study, are really commands to find out truth through experience. In our reading of the scriptures, it’s not necessarily the words of the scriptures that we need. Rather, we seem believe that our presence in reading those books can open us up to receive other signs in our mind. It’s as though writing is not meant to convey knowledge, but to trip a switch, to create another experience all its own. We believe in revelation acting through the written word, not just through what it says, but through the very act of reading.

Perhaps this idea of literature as an experience could be a way around the much complained of didacticism of Mormon writing about spiritual matters. Instead of trying to explain our doctrines or show how those who make the right choices come to the right ends (one of the main faults of the Home Literature movement), our literature could focus on the reality of spiritual experience, trying to create literature that generates genuine spiritual experience. Of course, there are obvious problems with this: first, the highest Mormon spiritual experience, the temple, is mostly off limits in terms of writing. I have always seen this as a huge problem with taking Mormon literature seriously as a minority literature–we can’t immerse our outsider readers in the culture because it is forbidden to do so. Second, how does one go about creating a spiritual experience for the reader without presuming to be God and creating false revelations? And how do we keep this from becoming an aesthetic of manipulation? (Especially in film–cue the emotional music and fuzzy close-up.)

However, I think it still can be legitimately done. Actually, I think many Mormon artists are already out there trying to do just that–just think of the history of Church cinema. Some may think it a little manipulative, but at other times, it’s completely genuine in the world it immerses you in. The Mormon arts seem distinctively different than most post-modern literature in this way–we always genuinely have faith in the ability of arts to be an immersive experience, rather than a distant and cold examination of the world. Much of Mormon art has less regard for the nature of the medium and more focus on the subject matter.

What Mormon art has touched you in an experiential way? How can we develop this aesthetic into something legitimate rather than allowing it to devolve into a culture of propaganda and manipulation?

26 February 2008

On a Unified Mormon Fiction

A cross-post from Mormon Renaissance

On Saturday at BYU's science fiction/fantasy symposium, Life, The Universe, and Everything, Orson Scott Card gave a lecture entitled "SF&F as a Legitimate Literary Genre." Now, I'm going to ignore the primary question of his speech, since science fiction is not what this blog is all about. However, I think some of the points he raised can be legitimately applied to Mormon literature. Because, in its own way, Mormon fiction is like SF&F: a class of writing read by a small, cult-like following, a genre which many (self-proclaimed literary) people look down on because of its "juvenile" conventions.

Card's point was this--the dismissal of an entire genre is usually illegitimate. When we do so (usually by using only one example, or only its worst examples), we're really just setting up strawmen to knock down to our own literary preferences. To read science fiction with an eye for literary fiction is an experiment doomed to fail. The genres have different definitions of success. For example, Card claimed that in literary fiction, the star is the author, who as he/she writes, encodes meaning into complex layers of symbols which the reader is then to decode. This is what people who read literary fiction want, and when it is done well, they are happy. However, these conventions would be found ridiculous to science fiction readers, who are completely concerned with plot. Science fiction is about the believable linkage of cause and effect, an exploration of how we effect the world. That exploration is best done through stories rather than symbols.

I see this applying to Mormon literature in two ways. First, as I said in our opening post, it's unfair to judge Mormon lit by all that is really crappy in it. In Jeff Savage's recent post on LDS Publisher, he pointed out that we ought to look first to find literature that suits our own tastes and then within that genre to find that best books that fit that need. Within Mormon literature, there is room for sappy romances, homey mysteries, epic historicals, as well as literary fiction, as long as we don't expect them to be what they are not. Any impulse to declare any one of these as the Mormon fiction, to the exclusion of the others, would be invalid. However, within each of these genres, there are good quality works and lesser quality works, and we can work on improving each genre to its own ideal to achieve its own ends.

Second, Card's discussion of the different aesthetic approaches of each genre reminded me of what the people in the Fit for the Kingdom films movement are trying to do. This film-making group has divorced itself from the idea that Mormon cinema ought to employ the popular Hollywood conventions, instead trying to define a style of honesty and celebration of the ordinary that is uniquely Mormon. I'd like to see a similar thing happen in Mormon literature. As I said, Mormon literature covers many genres. What makes people (like me) want to unite them is that they all deal with Mormon subject matter. But in style, in approach, they seem pretty disparates: Mormon literary fiction follows literary fiction conventions, Mormon romance novels follow romance novel conventions (obviously with some amendments). This is good--romance novels would not work if the character suddenly broke out into random bouts of symbolism as they tend to in literary fiction.

However, it seems to me that the unity of Mormon literature could benefit from the definition of some uniquely Mormon style, independent of the worldly genres. I'm not sure there's a genre that could be called the "Mormon" genre, but perhaps there could be a specific aesthetic or style of Mormon writing. My personal vision would be an aesthetic of individual consideration and empowerment--a Christian writing where there are no "bad" or "good" guys, but simply sympathetic people trying their misguided best to do what they think will bring them happiness. This belief in the power of humanity and its ultimate humanness is one of the most unique beliefs in Mormondom, and I think it could make for a great literature. From the buzz I'm hearing about Angela Hallstrom's Bound on Earth, this novel seems promising in that direction.

But that's my vision: What's your Mormon literary aesthetic? Am I wrong about Mormon literature not being about genres? Is there one genre that sticks out to you as Mormon?

21 February 2008

A Mormon Renaissance

Hey everyone, sorry for being a slacker and not writing for so long. At least one reason I've been holding back is that I have been working on a sneaky bloggy project which is now live: presenting Mormon Renaissance, a blog about Mormon artistic efforts, their progress and criticism. I've written a nice long two-part blog post as the introduction, so if you've been craving my voice, there it is. Check it out and add it to your feed reader. I think it's high time educated Mormons, including me, stopped looking down on their own culture and started doing something about it.

28 January 2008

Roll Video Footage

Courtesy of my wonderful friend Marisa, a huge chapter of my life is now available on Google Video. All those whose hugging skills need improvement, weep no more! Witness the Hug Video in all of its tripartite glory:

The Hug Video: World of Contact
From the cheesy National Geographic music to the dictionary hug, this is an instant classic. Who's Joe, you might ask? Joe is the inspiration for the hug video, whose prolific dictionary hug skills led my roommates to offer him hugging lessons. Trust me: some people need them.

Hug Video 1 Bloopers
The birth of Marisa's child and some lovely background shots of me knitting my Quidditch socks.

The Hug Video Part Dos
You may remember that I spent most of finals week winter 2006 editing this video. It's not as crisp as the first one, but we love it none the less. The invalid hug is great.

Someday I'll get around to making our final movie--the Paint Date. 50 bouncy balls, several bottles of paint, and lots of plastic wrap meet a college kitchen.

12 January 2008

It's All in the Approach

It's amazing how touchy humanities people can be when you criticize their subject. The defense of the humanities is a battle still alive and raging, and one that seems vitally (in the sense of life-threateningly) important to those involved. In my advanced literary theory class, the professor spent half of the first class period frantically justifying why a literary education was superior, even though no one had asked such a question. He claimed literary study was superior to a basic technical education (the socialization of people to follow orders in low level jobs), or even a measley "professional" education (teaching people when to apply technical logic--doctors and lawyers, this apparently means you). The professor's point was that a real leadership consists of a liberal education, one that teaches people how to think but not what to think about. He pointed to the importance of a "classical" or liberal education, implying that the English department would give us this.

At this point, I laugh. How many people in an advanced theory course can really claim a liberal education? Hello, a liberal education is supposed to include the sciences as well as the humanities. I'd be willing to risk a pretty penny that barely 2 people in that class regard Biology 100 as anything less than an annoyance--me as a chemistry minor being one of them--much less have a enough working understanding of science to be regarded as scientifically literate. A liberal education is about being a Renaissance man, about being broad not deep--the antithesis of the current mode of university education. They aren't receiving anything like a liberal education, just an education in a discipline, as Stanley Fish says in his recent New York Times article.

Not that this is a bad thing--as Stanley Fish says, it's delightful to those who study it. They shouldn't feel the need to justify its use to other people. And if they do, they shouldn't attempt to do so through the guise of gaining "critical thinking," as if the humanities has a monopoly on that. The humanities will not save us.

The key to this realization: The kinds of virtues claimed through the humanities--"those intellectual and moral habits that together from [sic] the basis for living the best life one can" (Kronman qtd in Fish)--are not part of the subject material, but the approach. One could just as easily become critically and creatively minded in studying chemistry or politics or music as literature. These are not only in literature. In fact, if that were the reason we were studying literature, we would all be studying philosophy instead. What subject we choose to approach this critical knowledge is more of a hobby, as I've stated before. What's essential is the test, not the subject matter.

04 January 2008

Best Chocolate Ever

I figured I'd go for something a little lighter today, seeing as the blog is still reeling with comments on the last post. So, I am going to introduce you to the reason why George makes the best Santa Claus ever:


The Choxie Mint Cookie Crunch Bar! I swear, this is the chocolate bar of the GODS! Although it costs like $1.80 at Target, it is worth every cent: smooth truffley dark chocolate with tiny pieces of white mint candy. The candy pieces aren't hard and crunchy and annoying--I'd barely notice them except for the occasional divine flavor burst. It is perfect and subtle. I can barely type straight thinking about it. That said, I need to go buy a bunch. As soon as BYU lets go of my excess financial aid money. Grr.

(PS. Choxie is available only at Target. Just thought I'd make that clear. And apparently they don't have the bars for online order, although they do have all of the super cute looking gift packages.)