I.
What are the humanities, and why do we study them?
The questions
"What are the humanities and why do we study them?" are more difficult
to answer now, at the beginning of a new millennium, than they were
in the mid 1970s when Earlham's Humanities Program was created. At that
time, the program's authors drew their inspiration from a traditional
conception of the humanities, recognizing its value in a liberal arts
education. That traditional concept of humanities took shape in Europe
in the fifteenth century, and which had retained its essential features
even as it evolved through the years. But in the second half of the
twentieth century, the basic principles and values of that traditional
conception have been increasingly questioned, challenged, revised and
replaced.
Because of the
fruitful controversies which now challenge scholars in the humanities,
no one essay in this handbook could answer the question "What are the
humanities and why do we study them?" (And just who is that "we" anyway?
Perhaps it is best to think of that as "Earlham students and professors,"
although even after narrowing the pronoun to that extent there will
be a variety of ideas held by that "we.") Instead of responding to the
title question with a clear answer, this introduction aims to suggest
areas of questioning that humanities scholars bring to the study of
human culture.
As you read and
think about the claims made in this handbook, you may find yourself
raising questions. Don't banish those questions to the edges of your
attention, but shape them into responsible challenges. To raise difficult
issues, and to be willing to discuss them candidly with others, is--we
all agree--to operate in the true spirit of the humanities. Each Humanities
professor will disagree with some aspect of this handbook, and those
areas of disagreement are often the most interesting areas of discussion
in the humanities. At times this essay structures itself around current
debates, at other times it leaves debates unexplored--all the more grounds
for productive exploration in discussions.
What
are the Humanities?
The traditional
answer to the question "What are the humanities?" begins with an attempt
to explain what unifies the humanities. That is, it asks us to look
beyond the various ways of organizing the various humanistic fields
of study and seek out the common elements which they share. Most often,
the common elements are areas of questioning.
First of all,
we propose that human minds and spirits in all their diversity fascinate
the humanist. The biologist studies plant and animal life, the geologist
studies the changes the earth undergoes, and the sociologist studies
communities and institutions. These scientists have tried to organize
their understanding of subject matter so that it does not reflect the
idiosyncrasies of a particular human mind but is the same for every
rational observer. The humanist, on the other hand, delights in the
way human minds order nature within frameworks of personal purpose and
thought. Some humanists focus on the individual ordering his or her
own thought, others focus more on humans as members of groups. Scientists
also increasingly look at the role of the observer in the study of phenomenon.
For example,
scientists reading Charles Darwin's account of the habits of related
larvae have been primarily interested in the accuracy and verifiability
of Darwin's observations and conclusions--primarily interested, that
is, in the larvae rather than the mind and context of Charles Darwin.
Humanists, however, will be primarily interested in the human context
of Darwin's inquiry and the consequences of Darwin's work for human
self-knowledge and human interaction. Some will focus more on Darwin
as a unique thinker who had a powerful influence on human thought after
him, others will focus more on Darwin's position within systems of thought
in the nineteenth century.
Second, the humanities
are the study of forms. Human beings give expression to their various
pictures of the world by creating forms. They seek the power to summarize,
shape, and illuminate human life through imaginative constructs, including
dance, art, television, philosophical essays, as well as literature
and history. In certain kinds of literature, the form may be the plot
of the story; in histories, it may be the structure of the narrative
of events or the ordered explanation of causes; in all cases, works
are given certain forms by their creators. Humanities scholars ask:
What is the form of this expression? How does that form interact with
the ideas expressed? Some humanists will wonder: how does the form shape
our understanding of the world?
Not only do human
beings possess individual pictures of the world which they seek to express
through forms; they also find that their world pictures and experiences
lead them to believe there are certain ways that life should be lived.
The third common element of the humanities, then, is their devotion
to the study of values, to the standards people choose for the conduct
of their lives. Many humanists view human beings as capable of making
choices among alternatives, of taking self-determined action. Individualism--the
notion that people have achieved human excellence when as individuals
they make moral choices freely in the light of reason--has often been
the basis for discussions of values in the humanities. Opposed to individualism
is the proposition that humans are primarily members of groups, that
they are shaped by and find their meanings within the web of relationships
and culture. In this view, "reason" is not a universal human attribute,
but a culturally determined notion. In either view, the study of values
and the question of whether humans can make meaningful choices are central
questions for the humanities.
Fourth, humanistic
activity depends upon language. Although form-making takes place through
many media, those people who have mastered a language (or several languages)
are most able to create effective verbal forms and to criticize forms
of all sorts that others have made. Language study as a means to the
analysis of forms, then, definitely lies at the heart of the humanistic
enterprise.
A fifth common
element is study of the past; this is central to the humanities. All
people have a "past" in the form of ancestors, religious and political
heritages, and institutions and attitudes that have evolved over the
years. People also have an historical consciousness. In many kinds of
humanistic texts, authors seek to explain their images of the past by
giving those images form through language.
The past and
language are perhaps the two most important elements in seeking to understand
a culture, which is the sixth element of the humanities. A person, for
example, who does not know the Japanese language and who knows very
little Japanese history cannot expect to understand Japanese culture
very well. Similarly, a person--even an American or Englishman--who
knows very little British history and who cannot read the language of
Shakespeare's plays, cannot understand the culture of 16th-century England,
and probably not the culture of 20th-century England either. Since all
form-making takes place within a culture, a knowledge of a culture's
past is, with its language, indispensable to humanistic study. Yet,
what constitutes one shared culture is again a source of debate. It
is easy to assume that there is a single, unitary culture which is "ours,"
and against which all other cultures are measured. Many humanists argue,
however, that one culture is not somehow better than another, and that
"we" is falsely inclusive, because not everyone who lives within a society
experiences its dominant culture as "ours." Even the "we" of Earlham
students and professors is made up of people from a variety of cultures,
people who still see themselves as not part of only one unit. Humanists
debate when "we" is a useful and possible pronoun.
The humanities
deal with the questions people raise about the meaning of life. So the
seventh element is a concern with large questions--questions that people
asked in the past, that they ask now, and that they may ask in the future.
As humanists, we are led to reflect on enduring human problems--the
inevitability of death, the mystery of God, the need for love, the temptation
of power, the injustice of fate, the qualities of greatness, and so
forth. Reflection upon these ultimate issues as they were discussed
by others is one way of thinking about them for ourselves. We can ask
whether we have the same answers as another thinker, or whether we even
have the same questions. Some humanists believe that there are universal
values and truths, and that one can speak confidently of "the human
experience." Opposed to this is the assertion that there are many human
experiences and many truths, but that to assert a universal truth is
merely to elevate one over the others, thereby denying or obscuring
human particularities and differences.
Communicating
ideas about ultimate issues implies a community; this is the eighth
element. The sciences and the humanities have this feature in common:
they depend upon a community of shared concerns, procedures, and goals.
In the community of scientists, researchers must depend upon one another's
work. Communities of humanists include all persons who are fascinated
by human experience as it is reflected in created forms. All great works
in the humanities arise from and are addressed to such a community;
they are attempts to communicate visions of experience to those who
deeply value such things.
For the last
of our common elements, we observe that most humanistic disciplines,
like literature, history, and philosophy, are devoted to texts. Humanists
have a profound regard for those pieces of writing that are compelling
representations of individuals' perceptions of human experience. And
the humanist's texts comprise not only the written word, but also music,
painting, dance, sculpture, theater and all the other forms in which
human experience is shaped and expressed. Some humanists focus more
on the texts as created by an authority; others focus more on the uses
readers make of texts. There is debate over whether texts make meaning,
and that readers passively receive that meaning or whether readers are
not passive, but bring with them values, experiences, and expectations
which actively shape their engagement with the text. Meaning therefore
arises from the encounter between reader and text; in this sense, readers
make meaning.
In summary, then,
the humanities deal with human capacities to make forms, to exercise
historical consciousness, to master extremely complex language systems,
to grasp imaginatively the cultures of others, and with the impulse
to order life according to values, the quest for answers to "impossible"
questions about ultimate purposes, and the love of texts that speak
effectively about human existence. These human capacities, the common
elements of the humanities, form the subject matter of Earlham's Humanities
Program. Each of the bold-faced concepts above can be turned into a
set of questions which can help you interact with the texts we study
in this program. For example, what notion of history does this text
assume? What stories about the past does it tell? Why does it think
that these stories are important? In what way does this text believe
that the past can influence the future? Or, what does this text assume
about the value and uses of language? To what community is this text
addressed? The debates among humanities scholars often provide fertile
areas for thought about the texts that we study.
Why
We Study the Humanities
No one can deny
the great accomplishments achieved by specialized study and applied
expertise. Indeed, even if we do not become specialists in the fullest
sense of the word, our educations are not complete until we come to
know some field of study in depth. Yet, Earlham's substantial humanities
requirement shows clearly that this College recognizes the enduring
value of studying the humanities as part of your general education in
the liberal arts. Here are some of the reasons why we study the humanities;
these reasons are the goals of the Earlham Humanities Program:
We all need to
become better readers; humanistic study can help us achieve this. Too
often "reading" is thought of as running your eyes over words at a certain
rate (something over 25 pages an hour) and grasping the general sense
of the passage. Good reading is much more than this. Good reading includes
the ability to read both analytically and imaginatively. The analytical
reader identifies an author's purpose, examines the principles of composition
and argument within the text, and tries to discover how those principles
achieve the author's purpose. The imaginative reader participates in
a book, gets into its spirit, and is moved by the power of its rhetoric,
the plight of its characters or the beauty of its images. The imaginative
reader is sensitive to the historical and cultural contexts implied
by the book. Imaginative readers also may connect a book to their own
contexts. Good readers are analytical and imaginative at the same time.
With their insistence on the primacy of texts, the humanities require
and foster good reading.
The humanities
may help us overcome provinciality and transcend our own narrow spheres
of experience. It is both selfish and dangerous to confine yourself
to attitudes found in your own age and culture, and yet there really
are people who wish to limit themselves to the world views of Americans
in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. It doesn't make sense to
be so blindly provincial in the face of the richness and complexity
of humanity; this blindness contributes to our difficulties in dealing
with people whose cultures are different from our own. Americans need
to study the mind and spirit of the Chinese, and the people of China
need to understand America; men and women need to understand whatever
is distinctive about the experiences of the opposite sex; white and
black Americans need to learn more about the mind and spirit of one
another; and, above all, everyone needs to encounter the minds and spirits
of wise human beings who have preceded us on this planet. The humanities
may give us a sense of the past. When we cut ourselves off from the
past, we become alienated from the institutions and cultures around
us, for those institutions and cultures evolved out of the past. Knowledge
of the past can both help us question the present and help us understand
it. It might also lead us to ask questions about how our stories about
the past shape our ideas about the present.
The humanities
can also begin to introduce us to other cultures. Modern alienation
is intensified by the fact that we know little about other cultures;
we live in a world where the actions of Chinese, Arabs, Russians, Africans,
and Latin Americans have tremendous impact on everyone's lives, and
yet many of us are ignorant about the history and religion and literature
of such significant cultures. Too often we are unaware of the tremendous
diversity of beliefs, values, and ways of living present even within
the pluralistic culture of the United States. Study in the humanities
can lead you to understand cultures, through the mastery of their languages
and the sensitive reading of texts which explore and reveal them.
The humanities
can enhance our membership in a community, especially an academic community.
For productive social life, we need to spend some time together addressing
important questions about the human experience. If we are to speak to
one another effectively and wisely (and not merely swap the cliches
of television and dormitory bull-sessions), we need a common frame of
reference. This need can be met by a common study of those written works
which others, in a variety of cultures, have identified as invaluable
to the cultivation of human minds and spirits. This can lead us to a
sharing of meaningful discourse in a real spirit of community.
Some humanists--but
not all--argue that the study of great works leads to ethical action.
George Eliot, for example, believed that literature develops our capacity
for sympathy, for feeling what others feel, and thereby trains us to
care about people different from ourselves. During the Renaissance,
humanists found a connection between gnosis (knowing) and praxis (action).
For them, knowledge of the great works of philosophy, history, and literature
was seen as personally, socially, and politically necessary. Humanism
was seen as purposive--that is, as an activity directed to something
beyond itself, such as duty, liberty, and justice. Humanistic study,
in this view, is a way of training yourself to define your values and
act on them. Others now find that the study of the humanities helps
us to analyze the benefits and limitations of dominant culture and to
change that culture in order to improve the lives of those who live
in it.
Alternatively,
there are humanists who reject the notion of ethical action as an end
of the humanities, and who insist that the humanities are inner --not
outer--directed. If this argument is correct, then the great benefit
of the humanities is that they contribute so much to the quality of
our lives--they make us more thoughtful, more sensitive to beauty, more
appreciative of a well-crafted poem or an effectively conducted historical
explanation. In this view, the humanities are important, not because
they lead you to take action, but because they are ends in themselves.
We may study
the humanities in order to develop critical thinking. Criticism is not
mean-spirited faultfinding with others; criticism is the art of probing
and questioning, of making clear distinctions, seeing patterns and connections,
and avoiding easy conclusions. Critical thinkers analyze their own and
others' assumptions, asking the kinds of questions suggested in the
last paragraph of the section "What are the humanities?"
The humanities
help us develop skills in writing and discussion. Since humanistic works
are attempts to communicate insights about human experience, it follows
that as readers we need to make some kind of response. Since the material
of humanistic exchange is language, we must develop our writing and
speaking talents in order to participate effectively in the ongoing
discussion of important questions and ideas. We must increase our mastery
of language; we must learn how to organize arguments; we must be able
to move from evidence to conclusion; we must present our ideas clearly,
attractively, persuasively. The Humanities Program helps you do this
in two ways: it presents you with numerous examples of effective writing,
organization, and argumentation; and it helps you recognize that sharing
ideas is possible only if you write and discuss, and write and discuss,
and then write and discuss some more. The humanities assume an unending
exchange of written and spoken ideas, and only by regular participation
in those exchanges can we become successful writers and discussants.
II.
Humanities A and B and their Requirements
A.
Description of Humanities A and B
Humanities A
and B together fulfill a student's first-year general education requirement
in Humanities. Each course contains two "clusters" of texts and writing
assignments.
Humanities A-1
contains readings that are neither thematically nor generically related,
but that present students with a diverse array of kinds of writings.
The writing assignments for Humanities A-1 are somewhat different from
the papers students write for the remainder of the year, and are described
more fully below. As part of Humanities A-1, every student is required
to complete a brief exercise in the use of PALNI in Lilly Library.
Humanities A-2,
B-1, and B-2 each contain a cluster of readings relating to a particular
issue, historical period, or place. The writing assignments for these
clusters are interpretive essays, some of which will be comparative.
At some time in Humanities B, each student will do some additional research
to further the class's study of the cluster topic.
B.
Reading in Humanities
Reading skills,
both analytical and imaginative, are crucial to effective participation
in Humanities, for every paper and discussion in the course is inspired
by the texts you read. The following section offers a further introduction
to the kind of reading skills we expect and will help you to develop
and improve during your Humanities courses.
When you read
for your Humanities courses you are being asked to discover the author's
purposes, intentions, and techniques, however strange or unfamiliar
these purposes, intentions, and techniques may seem to you. Rather than
reading to encounter familiar ideas and values that are already acceptable
to you, or reading simply to "get" information, the reading you do for
these courses asks you to meet authors as persons whose ideas, world
views, modes of expression, habits of mind, sensibilities, cultural
contexts, and beliefs may differ, even very radically, from your own.
Good reading for Humanities expects that you will not prejudge authors
and their beliefs simply because they are different or because you think
you disagree with them. As good readers, then, we do not force our own
meanings on a text; rather, we begin open to differences, with curiosity
and respect. We ask what a text is trying, as a whole, to accomplish.
What meanings does it advance, even if these meanings seem strange or
difficult? How can "I" take the text seriously enough to start a conversation
with "You," the author whose words I read, who speaks to me from the
text?
In order to encourage
this kind of reading, Humanities A and B students are required to base
their understanding of a text solely on the words the author has written.
That is, in Humanities A and B it is not appropriate to find out what
the text means by going to the library, or by consulting outside authorities.
The point is not to rely on others to tell you what to think about a
book, but to become the sort of reader who can formulate his or her
own judgments about books. Even an Introduction or Preface to a text,
unless it was written by the author as part of the text, cannot be relied
on to tell you what's important or truthful about the book. You are
encouraged to consult dictionaries or encyclopedias to clarify matters
of fact and word meanings, but beyond these helps you should try to
make your own best sense of the text. Even though your lack of other
knowledge may lead you to overlook or misunderstand elements of the
text, it is most important first of all that you practice reading on
your own, without using the ideas of others as crutches.
We have adopted
this "no outside sources" rule as a teaching strategy, to give you practice
as an independent, critical reader. Learning to read the author's actual
words is a necessary first step to good reading, but it is only a beginning.
We cannot read texts in a vacuum, any more than authors can write them
in a vacuum. Good readers do try to learn about the relevant contexts
--whether social, historical, cultural, artistic, or biographical--within
which a text--and indeed their own reading of it--may take on its fullest
meaning. Several research exercises in A and B, and a full-fledged research
paper in Humanities C will provide opportunities for you to investigate
some of these contexts and to reinterpret a text in light of them.
How can we train
ourselves to be good humanistic readers? We begin by recognizing that
different kinds of texts require different kinds of reading. For example,
most newspapers are written to be read quickly and then discarded; journalistic
writing should be easy and unambiguous. But it would be a mistake to
read a poem the way you read USA Today, since poets usually try to use
all the resources of language in order to express great richness of
meaning. Therefore we expect to read--and reread--a poem slowly, carefully,
and thoughtfully, sometimes reaching for the dictionary. Good readers
spend some time thinking about the kind of text they are reading and
explore different strategies for "opening up" an author's world.
Because of work
pressures, students often read rapidly for long stretches. Under these
circumstances, it's very hard to remember what you have read. Whenever
possible, resist this practice. Instead, organize your reading around
the structure of the text. For example, stop at the ends of chapters
and sections, and take time to reflect on what you have just read; jot
down some notes and thoughts. Mentally review your reading so far, and
think about your expectations for the rest of the text and how the text
has shaped and reshaped those expectations. Move back and forth when
necessary, to check later parts of the text against earlier parts, and
to make sure that your emerging sense of the text has not drifted away
from the author's intentions as you have understood them.
Many people try
to help themselves read well by underlining or highlighting important
passages. This technique can be useful, but only if you can remember
why you have marked those passages. Make sure you distinguish between
passages which are especially interesting to you, and those which are
important to the author. In order to grasp the writer's purposes, be
sure to mark passages where those purposes are revealed (for example,
in an author's introduction, at transition points, and at the conclusion).
Marking passages
works best when integrated within a system of note-taking. As you read,
try writing down important ideas, topics, and themes in a notebook,
and underneath each of them list the page numbers of marked passages.
In addition, you may keep track of recurring themes by cross-referencing
the text with page numbers in the margins. Once you have done this,
you will have a convenient index to the text, one that tells you why
you marked certain passages. Notes of this sort are valuable as an aid
to comprehension, a source of contributions to class discussion, and
a basis for writing a paper.
C.
Discussion in Humanities
Open class discussions
on books and ideas are a new experience for many first-year college
students. Here we offer some principles and guidelines which should
help you gauge the quality of your discussion contributions and improve
them.
In every Humanities
class,we all seek to contribute to a group understanding or interpretation
of the text. It is important to remember that books are, by their nature,
communal. As we pointed out in "What are the Humanities?" books are
the efforts of individual human beings to communicate with other human
beings. It is a perhaps unfortunate truth about our contemporary culture
that we do most of our reading alone in our rooms. While reflection
is best carried on in solitude, the ideas that result from reflection
need to be tested against and shared with other people.
Humanities courses
presuppose that a group of people may really achieve a richer, fuller
reading of a text than any single person--even the instructor--could
achieve alone. Good discussions are cumulative experiences that produce
insight gradually through exploration. By contrast to a Humanities paper,
which is a finished, polished statement about a book, most statements
in a discussion are tentative; that is, they are experimental attempts
to get at some feature of a text, subject to revision, refinement, elaboration,
qualification, and testing against the evidence of the text and the
insights of others. Through the contributions of all members of the
class there can emerge a group insight, a shared understanding, a class
resolution that is an accurate and satisfying reading of the text. A
good discussion is not, therefore, measured by the number of bright
ideas expressed about a book; it is a sometimes arduous process of trial
and error in which false or flawed or incomplete understandings are
gradually eliminated through mutual criticism, correction, and insight.
Effective and
fruitful participation in discussion requires skills which you can practice
as diligently as you practice your writing skills. Here are some strategies
that will help you develop and improve your discussion skills: Read
the assigned texts. Students who have not read the assignment cannot
contribute to the discussion, and the whole discussion is thus diminished.
Reading through the assignment is only a start: you should actively
prepare for discussions as well by listing page numbers of important
passages that the class might want to examine, jotting down questions
that you might want to raise in class (and later seeing to it that they
are raised), and beginning to formulate a tentative interpretation of
the book that you might defend or refine in class. Students who do the
reading but wait for the instructor's questions to spark their interest
are probably too passive to do a class much good.
Listen constructively.
You may think of a discussion as foremost an occasion for speaking,
but constructive listening is equally important for any dialogue to
succeed. You must be keenly aware both of what individuals are saying,
and the direction in which the whole class is heading. You should practice
listening so well that you can restate classmates' remarks in a way
that they would recognize and accept. Once you can hear others, you
can fit your own observations into the flow of the whole discussion,
sustaining the flow rather than disrupting it.
Speak constructively.
A Humanities discussion is not an occasion for making speeches. Everyone
should have a voice in the discussion. If you usually have lots to say,
you will need to practice restraining yourself to avoid monopolizing
discussion. If, on the other hand, you are usually silent, you will
need to practice becoming an active and confident contributor. Humanities
classes are informal, so you may use English in a more relaxed way than
you do in your papers. You should, nevertheless, speak loudly and clearly.
You should address your remarks to the class as a whole, not just to
the teacher. You should speak precisely and forcefully. Above all, you
should practice seeing your contributions as part of the overall enterprise
to build a shared understanding of a text.
Use the text.
A Humanities class is often asked "What does the author mean by . .
. ?" or "What is the author's purpose in doing . . . ?" or "Why has
the author used this kind of structure (or style, or character)?" These
questions refer to the author's intentions, not to a reader's casual
impressions. To answer such questions, look first to the text; it is
the only authority to which you can turn for answers. This means that
you must bring your books to every class, have those books open before
you, and refer to them to illustrate your points.
Be critical.
Rigorous judgment is necessary for a group to improve its understanding
of a text. This means that you must practice making firm critical assessments
of everything your classmates say, and you must express your disagreements
clearly and forcefully. It is possible to disagree with classmates and
still express respect for them. Uncritical respect is insincere and,
in the end, disrespectful. By the same token, you must practice hearing
and admitting criticisms of your own positions and hypotheses.
Be supportive.
A supportive atmosphere must exist for a class to be successful. You
can encourage your classmates by your questions, your attentiveness,
your responses, and your expressions of appreciation. On the other hand,
you can discourage them by showing contempt or indifference, yawning,
talking to neighbors during someone's remarks, or responding rudely.
No one wants to take personal risks or pursue a discussion of delicate
human questions in an unfriendly atmosphere.
Attendance. You
cannot contribute to a discussion, and learn from it, unless you are
present in class. As we have said, discussion requires collaborative,
sustained effort, building upon what has gone before. Students who miss
class, and especially those who miss classes repeatedly, add nothing
to the building-in-progress.
All this sounds
difficult--and it is. But stimulating, insightful discussions can be
the result, and that's worth the effort.
D.Writing
in Humanities
--Humanities
A-1 papers--
Every student
will write six papers during A-1: two position papers; two connection
papers; and two longer papers. The position and connection papers should
not run above one page each. The longer papers should run four to five
pages each.
When you write
a paper about a text for the Humanities, you always need to think about
1) what the text is about and what positions it takes in relationship
to its topics; and 2) what ideas and interests you have in that topic.
The second aspect, paying attention to your own interests and ideas,
is often implicit rather than explicit in your thinking and writing
process. In Humanities A 1, we have designed writing exercises that
make these two aspects of writing, position and response, each explicit.
i.
The Position Paper
In a Position
Paper you identify and explain the position taken by a text on an important
topic. By "position" we mean a claim the author makes in a text and
for which she makes some kind of argument, the claim and argument made
from a particular point of view. Sometimes the argument and point of
view will be explicit, at other times implicit. Either way, your paper
should clearly explain what the text is arguing for and how it is doing
so. Each text has positions about a variety of issues; you do not need
to analyze every position on every topic addressed by a text. You only
need to analyze one central position taken on a topic that is important
to the author.
Writing a position
paper is not the same as restating the plot. Every time you find yourself
summarizing events stop and ask yourself, "Why are those events included
in this book? Why did the author tell us about them? What point is she
making by reporting these events?"
The more specific
you can be about the text's position, the better. It's obvious, for
example, that Hamlet shows the main character's grief at the death of
his father. That position may be a start, but it is too general for
a finished essay. Instead, ask yourself what specific insights that
text has about how Hamlet acts in response to his grief, for example,
what the play has to say about the connection between grief and revenge.
It might help to choose a small section of the text which clarified
for you a major point and to write about that section, to analyze what
that section says about a topic present throughout the text.
Even though these
papers are extremely short, they must include specific references to
the text. Those references can be brief quotations, paraphrases, or
plot elements. Each reference must be related to your main point, too.
Without these, your reader can lose the connection between your writing
and the text you are writing about --as can you!
ii.
The Connection paper
In the Connection
(or Response) paper, you will focus on how a text responds to or makes
a connection with your own beliefs or point-of-view. This demands some
awareness of the text's position (just as your own interests probably
guided your selecting of a position to write about in a Position paper).
In this paper, you can talk back to the text or you can use it to alter
your own position about something. Sometimes your connection to a text
will be immediate and strong; you may strongly disagree with a text,
for example, and eagerly write a connection that supports your reasons
for disagreement. But agreement and disagreement are not the only possible
responses to a text. Also, at times, it's difficult to make a connection
to a text. It can take work to find ways that your ideas overlap at
all with some things you read, and that work is very valuable. Part
of what it takes to do well in classes is finding your own interest
in some part of the class's subject and some part of the assigned reading.
There are many
kinds of connections you can make to a text. Perhaps it has something
to say about a social or political issue that interests you, such as
peacemaking or paying taxes. Perhaps it connects to some aspect of your
personal life (but this doesn't always provide good material for college
papers). Perhaps it connects to some other text which you have read
and which is important to you. Perhaps it connects to something you
have learned in another class.
The connection
paper is primarily about your own ideas, but it still needs to be about
the text we are reading in class; so again, you'll need briefly to cite
the text somehow. The citation can be your jumping-off place, but it's
necessary so that your reader can see, again, why you are writing about
your topic after reading a certain text in class.
iii.
Papers in Humanities A-2 and B-1 and B-2
Humanities papers
that you write during the rest of the year will be interpretive essays.
In these essays, you analyze a text's arguments and offer your own interpretation
of that text's treatment of an important topic. By "analyze" we mean
roughly the same activity that leads to a Position Paper. An analysis
of a text identifies one or more of its arguments, and it determines
the steps taken in the argument, its assumptions, and the sorts of evidence
the author uses. It takes the argument apart (the basic meaning of "analysis"
is "a breaking up"), and then puts it back together in such a way that
you and your reader will better understand what the author is doing
in her text.
By "interpretation"
we have in mind something a bit more sophisticated. An interpretation
moves beyond analysis, proposing to the reader a way of understanding
a text that may not have been immediately evident during his first reading
of it. Sometimes one's interpretation goes beyond the direct claims
made by a text and investigates its implications for topics outside
what the piece is explicitly "about." It may uncover assumptions the
author makes but does not make explicit; it may even attempt to justify
or challenge those assumptions. It may relate a particular passage in
a text to another passage, or to a larger argument in whose context
the passage resides.
There are other
angles besides these that one can take in an interpretation. The crucial
thing to remember is that good interpretations begin by asking the text
good questions: "What does this novel teach us about_____?" "If we really
put into practice the ideas advocated by this essay, what would be the
result?" "How does this historian's argument about X relate to the claims
she makes about Y?" In some instances, you may be asked to write a paper
that compares two or more texts, and this comparison will facilitate
your interpretation of either text, or both. Please see "What are the
humanities?" for ideas about what sorts of issues interest a scholar
of the humanities. That essay should help you begin asking some important
questions.
A good paper
consists of interesting ideas, convincing detail, and precise reasoning.
See "A Word on Argument and Inquiry" (below)
for some principles of sound argument. You can write good papers in
many ways, but at a minimum you need always do the following:
Interpret the
text accurately. Use textual evidence to persuade an audience that
you have done so. Use original arguments and evidence to persuade
your audience. Write clearly, organize well, stick to the subject,
avoid oversimplifying. Proofread your finished paper diligently.
iv.
The Longer paper
In the Longer
papers you will draw on both the text's Position and your Connection
in order to create a dialogue between you and the text. Your writing
or your thinking may start with either analysis of the text's position
or your response to, or connections with, the text. You need to make
sure that the position and the response make sense as part of one
paper; the two parts should depend on each other. Be explicit about
how the text's position connects to your interests. You need to show
a reader with different interests from your own why yours offer one
useful reading of this text.
v.
The Mechanics of Paper Writing
The following
mechanical and formatting requirements apply to every paper submitted
in the Humanities program.
(1) Papers should
be typewritten and double-spaced. If your paper is printed on fanfold,
perforated computer paper, then separate its pages before submitting
it.
(2) Papers should
have margins of one inch on all sides.
(3) Papers should
have titles. Use the occasion to give your audience an indication of
what you intend to say. You do not have to create a separate title page;
simply center your title directly above your first paragraph.
(4) Prose quotations
of four lines or more, and verse quotations of three lines or more,
should be indented, single- or double-spaced, and presented without
quotation marks. Shorter quotations should be included in your main
text, not indented, and placed within quotation marks.
(5) After all
quotations and specific references, cite the text by putting the page
number in parentheses, like this: (p. 251) or (pp. 251-52) or (pp. 251,
258, 349). When using parenthetical references, please remember that
the page number comes after the quotations marks but before the other
punctuation. An example: In Feud, Waller argues that the Tug Valley
was actually more violent after "civilizing" anti-feud forces had taken
over: "Industrialization had brought neither peace nor prosperity to
the Tug Valley" (245).
If a quotation
is long enough to be indented (about 4 lines), it should not have quotation
marks around it. In this case, the page reference comes after the quotation's
punctuation.
If for some reason
you do not need a page reference with the quotation mark, the rules
change. In this case, the punctuation marks come inside the quotation,
except for semicolons and colons.
(6) Your name,
the date, and the section number of your Humanities class should appear
in the upper right corner of the first page.
(7) Your last
name and the page number should appear in the upper right corner of
every page after the first, like this: McGreenberg - 3.
(8) Papers should
be written in standard English. Papers are more formal utterances than
comments in class and should not contain slang, incomplete sentences,
or poor grammar. On the other hand, papers should not be written with
stiff, pompous formality. You should strive for straightforward clarity
and simple grace.
(9) Inexact quotation
is a mechanical error that many students do not recognize as a mistake.
When you quote, everything within the quotation marks (or indented,
as the case may be) should reproduce exactly what appears in the text,
unless you introduce square brackets to mark your own additions or an
ellipsis (three dots, "") to mark omissions.
(10) Papers should
be scrupulously proofread. Many Humanities students are surprised at
how strictly their instructors evaluate their papers for correctness
in the use of language. There should be no errors of spelling, punctuation,
diction (word usage), or grammar.
The fact that
an error is "careless" or "typographical" (rather than intentional!)
is not an excuse. Careless errors mar a paper as much as any other kind.
Expect to spend 15-30 minutes proofreading each of your papers; if you
are not good at proofreading, ask a good proofreader to help you.
Neat hand-corrections
are perfectly acceptable. If you do not catch your spelling, punctuation,
diction, grammatical, citation, or substantive errors as you write or
type, then at least correct them afterwards by hand as you proofread.
vi.
Careful Citation: Avoiding Plagiarism
(1) You should
cite your sources whether you quote or merely paraphrase them. A citation
can be a footnote, an endnote, or a parenthetical note within your main
text. It should identify the author and work from which the cited idea
or language is taken, and usually the publisher, date, and pages as
well. Citation formats vary from discipline to discipline. In literary
studies, for example, the generally accepted citation style is MLA (Modern
Languages Association) style, which calls for parenthetical page references
and then a Works Cited rather than a Bibliography. Here are some examples
of how to include texts in an MLA-style Works Cited:
Book: Author's
last name, first name. Title. Place of publication: publisher, year.
Article in a
journal: Author's last name, first name. "Title." Periodical Title Volume
# (year): page range.
An example from
an article in a collection of essays:
Fisher, Sheila.
"Leaving Morgan Aside: Women, History, and Revisionism in Sir Gawain
and the Green Knight." Medieval English Poetry. Ed. Stephanie Trigg.
London: Longman, 1993. 138-55.
An example of
a book:
Baker, Houston
A., Jr. Blues, Ideology, and Afro-American Literature: A Vernacular
Theory. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1984.
An example of
an article in a journal:
Lyne, William.
"The Signifying Modernist: Ralph Ellison and the Limits of the Double
Consciousness." PMLA 107(1992): 319-30.
The commonly
accepted citation style in History is the Chicago style, which can be
found in the Turabian Manual. Consult a good academic style manual or
a writing handbook for further guidance, such as Turabian's Manual for
Writers of Term Papers, Theses, and Dissertations, or the MLA Handbook,
or the Harbrace Handbook. For the purposes of the Humanities Program,
the information in a citation is more important than the format.
(2) Quotations
must be marked by quotation marks or by indenting, and they must include
a citation to avoid plagiarism. You can quote whole sentences, useful
phrases, or striking terms, depending on your purposes and style. But
whenever the language is not your own, you must mark it as a quotation.
(See Appendix 1 on the mechanics of paper writing for more on quotation.)
(3) To paraphrase
is to restate another person's ideas in your own words. Paraphrasing
raises the most difficult problems in the avoidance of plagiarism.
If the language
of your paraphrase is very close to the original, then to drop the quotation
marks and pretend the language is your own is still misleading and dishonest.
It is still plagiarism. This is so even if you include a citation. A
good paraphrase goes well beyond superficial tinkering with the original
language; it is a restatement of an idea in your own words.
After paraphrasing
a passage or idea, check the original to make certain (1) that you have
not inadvertently reproduced the original language, and (2) that you
have captured the point accurately.
Paraphrases must
still cite the original to avoid plagiarism. The original author gave
you both an idea and an expression of an idea. Even if you borrow only
the idea without the expression, the author still deserves credit.
(4) Research
in which you consult and learn from sources of all kinds is compatible
with a strict watchfulness for plagiarism. If you borrow something from
another, you should cite that person, and follow the rules about quotation
and paraphrase. After a point, you will have thoughts of your own that
are difficult to trace back to any particular source or inspiration.
They are your own, and need not be cited. It has been said that good
scholars are like bees: they collect pollen from all over, but they
turn it into their own honey.
(5) Similarly,
you should not be afraid to seek or accept legitimate help from tutors
and friends. If a friend reads your paper and gives you helpful criticism,
or if a tutor helps you with your writing, you can benefit from that
help without stepping over the line of plagiarism. The best way is to
hear the criticism, the suggestions, or the principles of your "critics,"
to understand them, and to revise your paper in light of your understanding.
Whether a paragraph rewritten with the help of a friend or tutor is
really your own can be a very difficult question requiring fine judgment.
It is your responsibility to use your judgment to prevent overeager
helpers from depriving you of authorship.
(6) To plagiarize
is to borrow the ideas or language of others without giving appropriate
credit, and to present them as your own. As an academic crime it ranks
with the falsification of scientific data. It is dishonest, misleading
to the reader, unfair to the original author, and it subverts the goals
of education and scholarship. Because it is a serious violation of academic
integrity, plagiarism is punished at virtually all educational institutions.
Earlham's rules governing plagiarism can be found in the Student Handbook
under "Procedures and Penalties for Academic Violations."
Plagiarism can
be deliberate or accidental. If you take haphazard notes from books
and journal articles and later use your notes in a paper, you might
accidentally incorporate the ideas or language of another author as
if they were your own. You might not realize that you are doing this,
you might not remember whether a passage is a direct quotation, or you
might not even remember whether a particular idea is your own or from
another source. You may feel innocent, but you would still be guilty
of plagiarism. To avoid inadvertent plagiarism, you should at least
make a habit of using quotation marks and documenting sources in the
notes you take on books and articles.
(7) When in doubt,
err on the side of citing more rather than less. When you are in a difficult,
gray area, ask your instructor for advice.
E.
A Word on Argument and Inquiry
Just as scholars
in the humanities disagree about the meaning and uses of concepts such
as "culture" and "individual," we also disagree about the meaning and
value of "argument" and of "reason." The following essay has many useful
suggestions for writing papers in humanities, but not all of your ideas
will be best expressed by following these suggestions, nor will all
of your professors always want essays which follow these notions of
argument.
(1) What is an
argument? An argument is not a quarrel or a dispute. It is an example
of reasoning in which some statement (called the "conclusion") is supported
or grounded or justified by some other statements (called "premises").
The request that
you argue is a request that you justify what you say. If what you say
sounds plausible to you, or self-evident, you may think it is amply
justified. But if you offer no statements that guarantee its truth (deduction),
or that tend to make its truth more likely (induction), then it is not
argued.
The task of argument
can be well met if you imagine an open-minded but unpersuaded reader
asking you, after every important assertion, why she should agree with
you. If you provide answers to that question along with your assertions,
then you are arguing. It is really not any more complicated--or combative--than
that. Anything that would work with such a reader counts as argument.
It need not come from the books you are reading. It may come from anything
you have ever read, experienced, or dreamed. You may craft the argument
entirely from your own thoughts. But it must really answer the question
why an open-minded but unpersuaded reader should agree with you. The
rest of this essay is a brief introduction to the nature and purpose
of argument in this sense.
(2) Argument
and false precision, certainty. One problem that students quickly notice
is that, as Aristotle said, some subjects permit more precision and
certainty than others. This is true, but it does not mean that argument
is impossible or inappropriate in the humanities. It only means that
the kinds of argument possible in each field will differ. A scientist
making a claim about the orbital speed of Neptune, or about another
scientist's claim that a proposed vaccine will prevent AIDS, needs openly
stated and testable premises to support her conclusions or else her
audience will reject them. While the situation is not identical in the
humanities, it is analogous. If a scholar makes a claim ("interpretation
thesis") about Homer's use of irony or Thucydides' view of democracy,
or a judgment ("response thesis") about the function of irony or the
value of democracy, then it too must be supported by explicit premises
that other scholars can inspect and judge. If it isn't, the scholar's
audience has been given no reason to accept it. The chief difference
between the scientist and the humanist in this area is the precision
their subject allows in stating premises and conclusions, and the "conclusiveness"
of argument.
The request to
argue in the humanities, then, is not at all the request to imitate
the sciences, to look for quantitative precision and certainty, or to
prove anything with finality. Nor is it the request to convert people,
coerce them with words, or guile them into assent. It is the request
to support what you say to the extent permitted by the nature of what
you say. This will not only differ from argument in economics and physics.
It will differ from history to literature to philosophy, and within
each of these fields from one type of inquiry and thesis to another.
The various arguments
within any one of your papers may well differ radically in kind. For
example, in a Humanities A longer paper, there will be at least three
arguments: (1) the author's argument for his or her position, as you
interpret it, and (2) your argument for your interpretation thesis,
and (3) your argument for your response thesis. The first will be whatever
the author actually offered his or her audience, which will of course
differ from history to literature to philosophy. The second of these
will use premises limited to textual evidence. The third will use any
premises that validly support your response thesis.
(3) Not everything
can be argued. Another problem that many students recognize is that
not every assertion can be argued--even in the sciences. This is true.
You may justify conclusion A with premises B, C, and D. But should you
justify those premises with further arguments? You can, but when you
lay down E, F, and G, you will face the same problem all over again.
To prove something adequately, then, it appears that you must have an
infinite regress of premises (which looks impossible) or some premise
that certifies itself (which looks fallaciously circular). This dilemma
is a real one, not one mischievously designed to plague students. It
has been known since the Greek skeptics, and no solution agreeable to
all inquirers has yet been found.
For philosophers,
the limits of argument are of central importance. For other humanists
they are important primarily for their consequences on our expectations
and performance in justifying what we have to say.
(4) Dealing with
the limits of argument. So, if you cannot defend everything you say,
even in a treatise, where do you draw the line for a short essay? There
is no neat answer to this question. It is a matter of art and judgment,
requiring you to know what is of primary importance to your paper and
what is of merely secondary importance. It also requires that you have
the discipline to concentrate on the primary even though the secondary
may be important, interesting, and controversial.
The best advice,
then, is to focus the energy of the paper on the central issues of your
thesis, arguing in detail for the chief conclusions. When the author's
position and your own are adequately elaborated, and when the primary
assertions of the interpretation and the response are argued in detail,
then you will almost certainly have hit the page limit of our short
assignments. But if not, explain and defend your secondary premises
(those used to elaborate or support your primary assertions) only in
that space left over. Try to uncover your own presuppositions, even
if you don't include them in the paper.
When we realize
that not all conclusions can be supported with premises, and that in
the humanities few positions permit the precision and finality of argument
possible in the sciences, then we are not licensed to be arbitrary,
any more than we give up education when we realize that not everything
can be known. Instead of giving up reasoning, we use it to the extent
that we can. When perfect proofs are impossible, the next best thing
is to make your premises (1) explicit, (2) plausible, (3) consistent
with one another and with the conclusion, (4) sufficient to justify
your conclusion, and (5) independent of your conclusion, neither equivalent
to it nor derived from it; otherwise they will beg the question by presupposing
its truth. Finally, your premises should include (6) all the relevant
evidence and (7) only relevant evidence.
Note that your
premises cannot become explicit, plausible, consistent, sufficient,
independent, and relevant if they are unexamined. Arguments are the
products of reflection and labor. The thoughts that you find casually
associated with your conclusion will rarely be premises that support
it. Even when they are, they might require strict editing, generous
supplementing, or their own supporting arguments, before they contribute
to a persuasive argument for your conclusion.
Toward the periphery
of your paper your arguments should taper off to zero. Your readers
will understand that this is not because your assertions are unimportant
or self-evident, but because space is limited and you have set intelligent
priorities. One way to help us understand this is to make clear why
your primary focus is important to you and the author.
(5) Taking the
other side into account. Arguing directly for a particular conclusion
is in a way only half the task of justifying a conclusion. The other
half is to consider the objections likely to be made to your position
and reply to them. If your audience contains the wide world, it contains
people who do not accept your premises, your conclusions, or perhaps
even your reasoning. What can you say to them? What do they believe,
how do they support their own positions, and how would they challenge
yours? When you argue for your own position you should take into account
the objections to your position, any arguments against it that you can
devise, and positive arguments in favor of contrary positions. You should
explain why they do not suffice to establish the contrary positions
or to falsify your own. This will not always be possible in our short
papers.
In addition,
then, to imagining a hypothetical reader asking what you mean (driving
you to write clearly), why she should agree (driving you to argue cogently),
and why she should care (driving you to say something interesting and
important), imagine a hypothetical critic objecting to your explicit
assertions and implicit assumptions. This is harder to do because the
content of the critic's objections must be imagined too. But it is worth
the effort. If it is easier, imagine the open-minded reader again asking
why all those people who see things differently from you are not to
be believed. If you can answer this question, your argument will be
very much strengthened.
Notice that you
need not claim that the other side has nothing whatever to say for itself--or
that there is only one "other side." The alternative views may have
many strong arguments in their favor. (To find nothing in their favor
usually means that you haven't looked very hard or listened very sympathetically.)
You can admit them and re-explain them; admit them and deny their sufficiency
to establish the other position or to undermine your own; admit them
but show that they are outweighed by the good points on your side; or
admit them but show them to be one-sided and incomplete without your
complementary insight. Arguments that respect the complexity of the
subject matter are difficult to make but always more persuasive and
honest. The request to argue is not at all the request to simplify or
to make thought one-sided or mechanical.
(6) Evaluating
an argument (as opposed to a position). Your interpretation thesis should
include some position of the author's as well as the author's argument
in support of that position. Your response thesis must address both
the position and its argument. How does one respond to an argument?
We can spell
out the elements of a thorough evaluation of an argument, even though
you will rarely have the space in a Humanities paper to conduct such
a thorough examination.
First, of course,
the argument must be adequately interpreted. It should be explicated--literally,
"made explicit." In doing this, pay attention not only to the content
of the author's various assertions, but also to the structure that makes
the assertions into an argument. Decide what supports what, and restate
the whole in logical order, stripped of irrelevancies.
In deciding what
the author's argument really is, be charitable. The author may take
some premises for granted as obvious. Rather than censure the author
for elementary omissions, you must discover on what premises the author
relies silently and supply them, using all the subtleties of the text
as clues. The argument made sense to the author, so try to reconstruct
it so that it might make sense now. If the argument in its natural setting
left you cold initially, don't reconstruct it unfairly merely to justify
your initial doubts. Try to see things the author's way at least during
the reconstruction. When the author relies on premises not explicitly
stated (assumptions, presuppositions), you should supply them along
with the textual evidence that justifies you in supposing that the author
presupposes them. Compare your reconstruction with the text after each
addition and revision. Make sure you are not simplifying or distorting
the author's actual reasoning in your pursuit of clarity.
After the explication
and reconstruction are complete, begin the evaluation. First look at
the premises. Are they true or plausible? What could be said for or
against them? Are they consistent? Can they all be true at the same
time? Are they complete? Is there something else of importance on that
topic that they fail to include? Are they relevant? Is all the relevant
evidence gathered together? Is only relevant evidence used? Are they
sufficient? Together do they justify the conclusion? Are they independent
of the conclusion? Do they beg the question by presupposing (rather
than entailing) the truth of the conclusion?
Then look at
the reasoning or inference (the connection between the premises and
the conclusion). Does the conclusion follow from the premises? If not,
will the addition of other premises make it follow? (Are the necessary
auxiliary premises implicit in the text? Are they plausible?) Is the
conclusion consistent with each premise? An argument fails if the premises
can all be true and the conclusion false at the same time.
Look at the
language used in the argument (in the original, not in your reconstruction).
Does the apparent plausibility of the conclusion rest on the use of
ambiguous, vague, or highly charged words? Is there equivocation, the
use of a key term in different senses?
Do the author's
premises or conclusions have further implications (relevant to the current
topic, other topics of importance to the author, or for life) that the
author does not make explicit? Are those implications true or plausible?
Is there a clearly false or unacceptable implication? If an argument's
premises imply anything false, then at least one of those premises is
false.
If you found
anything objectionable in the argument in the last four steps, ask whether
the fallacious element is crucial to the argument. Does the flaw subvert
the truth of the conclusion, the validity of this particular argument
for the conclusion, or both or neither? If an argument fails, its conclusion
may still be true (though only on other grounds). Conversely, if an
argument uses flawless reasoning, its conclusion may still be false
(if at least one premise is false).
Don't mistake
bad reasoning for false conclusions, or true conclusions for good reasoning.
The validity of the reasoning from premises to conclusion is independent
of the truth of the conclusion. An argument is as good as it can be
if its reasoning is valid, each of its premises is true, and all relevant
evidence is accounted for in the premises.
If you find
a flaw, try to imagine the author's response to your charge, and respond
to his or her response.
A common objection
to an argument is that a certain premise "might not be true" and in
fact is less likely than some alternative. This is a weak objection
if the alternative is consistent with everything the author said; it
is stronger if the author would have to retract something to admit it.
If you raise such an objection in the strong form, don't stop there.
Argue your claim that one of the author's premises is not as plausible
as an alternative.
Try to imagine
(or recollect) arguments that come to a different conclusion from the
author's. Does the author adequately take such arguments into account?
If not, can a responsible extension of the author's position do so?
Once you make
a judgment about the merits of the author's argument, try to imagine
(or recollect) arguments that come to a different conclusion from your
own. Did you adequately take such arguments into account?
(7) Argument,
mechanical thought, creativity. Do not complain that argument cramps
your style and prevents you from being creative. Argument does not
block creativity, only an indulgent sort of spontaneity. And that
sort of spontaneity ought to be blocked, at least for the kind of
paper assigned here. Presumably you would not dream of writing a biology
term paper in a mellow reverie, divine delirium, or frenzy of pure
genius. Books must be consulted, difficulties pondered, questions
posed, evidence marshalled, conclusions wrought and adjusted to the
available evidence. In short, inquiry must be made. The same is true
of scholarship in history, literature, and philosophy, and for the
same reasons. If you are lucky enough to get good ideas from the haze
of smoky air or the blur of fatigue, then (as Locke said of those
lucky enough to have innate ideas) you have reason to enjoy them.
Discovery and justification can be very different processes. Get your
inspiration anywhere, but in your final draft support your interpretation
and response theses with explicit and persuasive argument.
(8) Why we
argue. On the other hand, do not imagine that argument is the essence
of the humanities. It is only part of the common language, method,
and discipline. The essence of the humanities is closer to the actual
process of questioning, inquiry for answers, the living conclusions,
and their incorporation into our lives, reflections, and actions.
Argument is needed to prevent inquiry from becoming unmethodical and
conclusions from becoming arbitrary. Argument is also needed to communicate
your results to an audience in a way that respects its intelligence
and intellectual responsibility. Argument is the courage of conviction,
showing that you are willing to support the claims that you make on
other minds with publicly scrutable reasons. Without argument others
will join your conclusion (if at all) only through accident, intimidation,
coercion, or blindness. If you love truth, you must endure this discipline,
just as music lovers must heed the little sixteenth notes and not
sprawl over the keyboard in the name of genius and freedom.
To argue for
your conclusions, then, rather than merely assert them, is not to
be intellectually combative or defensive, but to be accountable to
your audience. You ask your audience to accept your conclusions, but
not merely to take your word for them or to believe blindly. To argue
is to credit that your readers will and ought to resist groundless
demands on their assent, just as you do and ought to do when you read
the conclusions of others. Argument offers the support, basis, or
ground that prevents belief from being blind and arbitrary. Argument
makes the basis of persuasion as public as the channel of communication,
allowing all inquirers to inspect the evidence and reasons and to
judge their sufficiency. If your critics know your reasons, they can
address them in a civil, productive, illuminating--perhaps devastating--way,
just as you can theirs. Argument in this sense is entirely compatible
with passion, creativity, and friendship; in fact, it can deepen them;
it excludes only dogmatism and intellectual arrogance.
There is one
more reason why we argue that is slightly different from these. It
is not to justify conclusions or to respect readers per se, but to
show the connections among the ideas important to our thesis. Argument
is the structure by which we go backwards to presuppositions and forwards
to consequences, showing the logical grip of one idea on another.
It shows the logical context or neighborhood of our ideas, rather
than their textual context, and helps us construct the map of possible
thoughts. Argument shows that some ideas go together and others do
not; it shows that we cannot affirm or deny any ideas in isolation.
Each stand we take obligates us to take others and to refuse to take
still others. Arguments thereby make our thought and inquiry systematic,
and make us feel the good pains of consistency.
(9) Argument
and rationalization. Finally, do not think that argument is meant
only to prop up or "rationalize" conclusions that you decided were
true on some other basis, or that you took for true without any inquiry
at all. Let the constraints of argument contribute to your inquiry
and the formation of your conclusions themselves. If you believe a
particular conclusion, then self-consciously make it provisional or
tentative while you construct your argument for it. If it turns out
that you cannot support it well, then consider rejecting and replacing
the conclusion--and be grateful that you were not stubbornly led to
rationalize your prejudices at all costs.
To rationalize
your first impressions rather than rethink them is analogous to plagiarism
that is not caught. Like the plagiarist, you will be able to submit
a paper by the due date and satisfy all the external requirements
of the assignment; but you will have lost an opportunity to educate
yourself.
(10) Argument
serves inquiry. As you explore premises that tend to support your
conclusion, you may find that the only premises that support it well
are implausible and that the only plausible premises do not support
it well. If so, don't submit a bad argument just to avoid the pain
of changing your mind. Decide what the plausible premises or available
evidence (for example, the textual evidence) really do imply.
Remember that
your original conclusion has been reduced from a certainty to a tentative
hypothesis. Start an honest and diligent inquiry. One way to compose
an argument is to ask yourself why you believe your conclusion. Your
first thoughts in answer to this question will not usually be an argument,
but may point to one. If you run dry, and cannot think of any reason
why you believe your conclusion, then you should certainly not assert
it in your paper until you have come closer to a defensible judgment
on the matter, though you might be able to defend a more cautious
and qualified assertion. And of course you should no longer be so
sure in your life that it is true. This is where inquiry and argument
finally matter. Don't limit your inquiry to clarifying your own thoughts
(hunches, prejudices), for these may be false or incomplete; inquire,
and use the requirement to defend what you say to affect your thoughts
and discover what is true and defensible.
(11) Common
pitfalls in argument. In composing arguments in support of your interpretation
and response theses, beware of these common pitfalls:
to omit relevant
textual evidence that would qualify or undermine your interpretation
thesis
to fail to consider
(acknowledge, explain, rebut) evidence or arguments against your conclusions.
to argue against
a "straw man" rather than the author; to object to an oversimplified
version of the author, or to make any objection without having laid
the foundation for it in your interpretation, e.g. "Bradford says that
people are wicked, but he is wrong because Mother Theresa is not wicked,"
as if Bradford had argued that all people everywhere are always wicked.
to use irrelevant
quotations in support of your interpretation thesis, as if you lacked
any notion of what premises are needed to support a given conclusion.
to use examples
as if they were arguments, or to mistake elaboration of what your thesis
means for argument that it is true; unless you explain how they support
your thesis, examples merely illustrate it.
to use rhetorical
questions as if they were arguments, e.g. "What right does the legislature
have to tell people what kind of sex to have?" instead of a declarative
sentence saying that the legislature has no such right and an explicit
argument showing why not.
to assume that
dictionaries are authoritative on more than the common usage of words,
e.g. to quote Webster on "justice" as if that helped us to understand
the thing itself and not just how people typically use the word.
to assume that
a true description of the origin of the thesis in your life is an argument
for its truth.
to assume that
an explicit announcement of your sincere conviction or faith, or your
sincerity itself, are arguments or can take the place of argument.
to abuse adverbs
such as "obviously" and "unquestionably"; these are appropriate only
when argument is not, which is very rarely.
to assume that
your reader agrees with you (to forget the diversity of your audience)
and will supply omissions and forgive exaggerations in argument.
to assume
that your reader "knows what you mean" and will penetrate vagueness,
straighten out ambiguity, and forgive overstatement, inaccuracy, and
imprecision in expression and argument.
F.
Variations among Humanities sections, including a description of
living-learning sections
The Humanities
A-B sequence is designed as a common experience for first year students.
The goals and assignments described in this handbook are the same
for every section. The Humanities A-B staff assigns the same texts
and the same due dates for reading assignments and papers. Humanities
classes are almost exactly the same size.
Within this
general uniformity, there are healthy and appropriate differences
between sections. Most differences are due to the pedagogical styles
of the instructors. Some teachers, for example, give regular quizzes
on the assigned reading; some teachers give unannounced quizzes,
and some do not use quizzes at all. There are teachers who ask students
to keep journals and there are teachers who assign three paragraph
writing exercises. Some instructors allow any paper to be rewritten,
while others demand that certain papers be rewritten, while still
others permit rewrites in only very special cases. Because of these
variations, be certain that you are clear about the assignments
that are unique to your section as well as the assignments that
are common to all Humanities sections.
Every fall,
several sections of Humanities A are designated as living-learning
classes. Students in such a section live together on the same hall
of a dormitory. Sometimes, class meetings and tutorials are held
in the dormitory rather than in a classroom. In some cases, the
Humanities instructor is also the academic adviser of the students
in the section. The main purpose of living-learning classes is to
encourage students to find connections between the books they read
and the lives they lead. For example, when books raise questions
about the treatment of women, or religious toleration, or the right
of privacy, students are encountering situations in their daily
living that make the issues pertinent. A living-learning class may
be able, then, to relate general concepts to the specifics of student
life. Living-learning sections sometimes have lively class meetings
because the students know each other well enough to reduce shyness
and defensiveness in discussion and to increase rigor and supportiveness
in criticism. All incoming students are notified of living-learning
opportunities during the summer before they come to Earlham.
In living-learning
and regular Humanities sections, there is considerable variation
in the way instructors lead discussion. You may find yourself asked
to be a student leader for a day. Your teacher may maintain tight
control of discussions and comment on most student contributions,
or your teacher may try for a free-flowing discussion with a minimum
of direction. You may find your class frequently breaking up into
"buzz groups" of three or four persons, or you may have a teacher
who gives informational background lectures on the texts. Some teachers
never reveal their own positions on issues; other teachers argue
intensely for their own views. There is no single "right" approach
to discussion for every class and every teacher. The goal of every
approach, however, is the same: to help a group of readers pursue
a thoughtful understanding of a text.
Perhaps the
trickiest variation for students to accept is the variation in grading
standards for papers. Humanities instructors agree on the descriptions
of the writing assignments and regularly put themselves through
grading exercises to learn how their colleagues assess student writing.
Nevertheless, one of the realities of academic life --a reality
that you must adjust to quickly-- is that teachers do not evaluate
papers in exactly the same way. As long as the criteria of evaluation
are clear and appropriate, different assessments are justified.
In the course of Humanities A, B, and C you will learn to "write
for" three different teachers, which means that you will be measured
by three somewhat different standards. Keep in mind, as you try
to meet these standards, that the person for whom you are writing
is (in the long run) yourself, not your teachers. What your teachers
can do is provide you with different perspectives on your writing
as you search for the voice and style that is right for you. Don't
worry too much if you occasionally do rather well on a paper you
dislike and not so well on a paper you like. See if you can write
to meet the standards of judgment the teacher is applying. Later,
as you become your own best judge, you can decide if the teacher's
standards are ones you will continue to try to meet.
III.
Humanities C
Once you
have completed Humanities A and B, you will have acquired most of
the capacities used routinely in humanistic study, starting with
the ability to read, listen, and discuss interactively, and to write
effectively. You will have learned the kinds of questions that are
dealt with customarily by historians, novelists, poets, and other
writers, and you will know the basic differences among the various
forms of literature, as well as the similarities. You will understand
how to analyze, interpret, and criticize texts in regard to their
purposes and their principles of composition. And you will have
learned better how to articulate and defend their own views, both
in speech and in writing. At this point you are ready for the third
and final course in the Humanities Program.
The most
successful students will have become good generalists with well-integrated
backgrounds in the historical dimensions of culture. What remains
to be done is some more specialized work in history or literature,
to get a sense of what it means to work in one of those fields as
a discipline, and to approach materials appropriate to that field
as a specialist. Nearly all scholarship, regardless of the subject,
is conducted with a comparatively narrow focus, by scholars with
specialized interests and skills. It is important for students to
encounter this type of study, so as to understand the relationship
between specialized study and the ability to reach useful conclusions
through generalization. Humanities C courses also help students
to grasp the significance of the differences between disciplines,
as well as how they are related and how they complement each other.
Intensive
study within the boundaries of a particular discipline helps you
learn how to distinguish between the unique features of that discipline
and the general humanistic context of which is it a part. Humanities
C classes concentrate on the kinds of scholarship that are conducted
within each discipline, and they introduce aspects of history and
literature that do not lend themselves easily to the more integrated
study characteristic of Humanities I, II, and III, for example,
genre study, statistical history, literary criticism, period studies,
prosody, primary research, and so forth. For students interested
in majoring in history or literature, Humanities C courses provide
an idea of what advanced study in those fields involves. More importantly,
these courses enable all students to conclude their Humanities experience
with a good general background in the humanities and special skills
in either literary study or history.
Characteristics
of a Humanities C Course in History
A Humanities
C course in history must satisfy the following criteria:
First, the
topics covered should be significant or important. That is, they
should be concerned with pivotal events that have had widespread
or long-term impact on human history.
Second, there
must be substantial use of primary sources, and students should
have ample opportunity to draw inferences directly from such materials,
so as to experience how historians work with evidence to reach conclusions.
Third, the
course should seek to demonstrate change and continuity in history
over a significant span of time.
Fourth, it
may also examine significant contrasts between geographical areas,
different cultures, or widely separated time periods.
Fifth, it
should expose students to well-crafted secondary materials which
will help them to develop a sense of how skilled historians in search
of the truth may interpret the same materials in differing but equally
legitimate ways.
Sixth, it
should favor breadth over narrowness, dealing with a wide range
of subject matter or a long span of time. Breadth may also be achieved
by covering a variety of approaches to the same material, such as
from the perspectives of several different social science disciplines.
Specialists in anthropology, sociology, economics, politics, and
other disciplines have characteristic views on the importance of
historical change in their areas of interest, and the similarities
and differences among them can be valuable in helping students to
understand the nature of historical inquiry.
Characteristics
of a Humanities C Course in Literature
A Humanities
C course in literature must satisfy the following criteria:
First, it
must treat literature as literature, and not as evidence for the
study of other subjects. For example, courses which use literature
primarily as a source of historical or sociological or psychological
data are not acceptable.
Second, it
must deal with literary works of high quality.
Third, with
rare exceptions, the course must study literary works as wholes,
and not in excerpts or abridgements.
Fourth, it
must have breadth, and this can be understood in a number of ways.
Generic breadth examines a variety of selections from poetry, drama,
and long and short prose fiction. Historical breadth provides an
introductory journey, over a period of time, through a comparatively
broad topic such as the literature of Greece, or of some other national
or cultural entity, but not, for example, through something as narrow
as French drama from 1900 to 1910. Cultural breadth exposes the
student to the literary productions of a variety of cultures, with
or without generic breadth, such as Women in Literature, or Twentieth-Century
Poetry in Europe, America, and Japan, but not, for example, something
as limited as Novels of the American South.
Fifth, it
must require substantial written work in the form of a research
paper.
Many courses
each semester may fulfill the Humanities C requirement.
Currently,
the following courses typically receive Humanities C credit:
HISTORY
HIST 121:
Introduction to U. S. History to 1865
HIST 122: Introduction to U. S. History since 1865
HIST 220: Introduction to European History
HIST
223: Introduction to Russian History
HIST 224: Race and Ethnicity in the U. S.
HIST 226: Traditional East Asia
HIST 231: African History to 1880
HIST 232: African History since 1880
HIST 241/341: Ancient Near East and Mediterranean before 331 BCE
HIST 242/342: Ancient Near East and Mediterranean after 331 BCE
HIST 243: Medieval Europe
HIST 244: Renaissance and Baroque Europe
HIST 248: Medieval Mediterranean
HIST 251: Medival Jewish History
HIST 252: Modern Jewish History Since 1750
HIST 258: Tudor and Stuart England
LITERATURE
ENG 201:
European Literature
ENG 202: Russian Literature
ENG 203: Literature of the Middle East
ENG 204: African Literature
ENG 205: War and Literature
ENG 206: Jewish Literature
ENG 302: Introduction to the Study of Literature
ENG 303: Women and Literature
ENG 304: African American Literature
CLAS 355: Gods and Humans
CLAS 356: Homeric Banquet
CLAS 357: Women in Antiquity
CLAS 358: Greek and Roman Drama
CLAS 359: Ancient Words and Works
Substitutions
for Humanities C
All students
are required to complete one Humanities C course as part of their
general education requirements. If you have completed a course at
another institution and believe that it is comparable to a Humanities
C course according to the criteria listed above, you may petition
the convener of the Humanities Program to waive this requirement.
You may be asked to provide the convener with a syllabus and copies
of the written work you did for the course.
