According
to most versions of his life story, the Titan Prometheus stole fire
from the Gods and gave it to the first human men. For this and his
other insurgent crimes, Prometheus' punishment is to be chained to a
cliff with daily visits from an eagle who eats his regenerating liver
from his body. This is my current model of textual creation and
critique. The texts we write are our regenerating livers. When
critiquing, we are the eagle. Don't be scared off by the gory
metaphor. I am going explain my reasoning and later even offer a additional myth of critique from which I hope to fashion a more
palatable model.
coursekeeping:
--sign in, conferences, papers due on-line t'morrow @ 5
--events: Latina/o Studies/Transgender History/Raka Ray on Feminist Revolution
--reading assignment, Tuesday after break:
Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, "La Respuesta/The Response" (1690)
--Wed. evening quarterbacking re: revised syllabus/more tweaking/commentary?
--mid-semester evaluations: what's working? what needs working on??
It is only halfway through the
semester and already it seems clear to me that much of what I thought I knew
and/or understood about feminism can essentially be thrown out the window. It
has been both refreshing and a bit unsettling at the same time to tread this
new ground and think these new thoughts. In fact, all of the readings have
really pushed me (as well as our sometimes intense class discussions) to
examine my preconceptions and assumptions of the meaning of feminism on the one
hand, and the meaning of being a feminist on the other. Whether or not
these two things are necessarily incompatible is not something I am ready to
deny or confirm-just that there certainly seems to be a fundamental