Presentation Comments

Julie: "America's ready for a party, not an empire." I love it. Why can't we be ready for both? I know that a voice like that, all opinionated like, might compromise the scientific integrity, but still I love it. It seems so...deliciously human. I've gotten all free-love, hippie, embrace-the-world-for-all-its-faults-ish recently (a side effect of too much time with good literature, perhaps?), but I can recognize the problem with subjectivity. But for now, I don't know, I'm just choosing to ignore it in favor of embracing the beautiful flaws that come with being human. Ok. Sorry. I'll stop typing now and go and make a daisy chain or something.

Jerry: Wow. Where to start? I guess, barring any intrigue, I'll talk about the "motives of curiosity" of which you spoke. You know, back when we thought this was a straightforward story. I couldn't get over the idea that the text was written on behalf of the captain, rather than by the captain. I wonder what we can say about someone who has boundless curiosity, but not the will to share it. I can't decide how I feel about it. I mean, I'm all talk-talk-talk. I can't help by share my discoveries. Since our course has been so focused on travel narrative, it seems we wouldn't think much of someone who travels without writing it down. But should we feel compelled to share, if the results could help someone out? Seems unfair.
Of course, I don't know what anything means now, because it was all fake James Bond-y stuff. So...put another layer on my existential crisis.

Hillary: Obviously, Hill, your presentation was particularly interesting to me because Arctic travel has been such a big part of my life (not that I personally have been cruising around on ice floes or anything). I never, ever stopped to consider how dangerous my father's work was, or the people who came before him that made his career possible. It's interesting to me also the attitude that some people (the ones who spend time there) have with the Arctic/Antarctic: it's an exclusive environment, and it takes a special breed of person to go up/down there. My dad took my mum to the Antarctic last year, and he was piloting the ship through the ice while they were there. My mum said she was scared out of her mind because he'd go down these dangerous, tiny little channels. My dad just shrugged and said his time in the area gave him a different perspective on what was possible and how far he could go. For him, it was a question of paying your respects to the area; once you acclimate, he says, it doesn't seem so harsh. It seems to me there would always be a balance though. Creating a relationship with a place like that must be like taming a wild tiger and keeping it for a house pet. It's beautiful, and you perhaps can get away with doing things that others can't, but the question remains: will you eventually push your luck too far, and get bitten? It seems Parry was aware of this balance when he made the decision to abort the journey.

Kellan: I think Debbie made a really good point when she noticed the differing tones in our texts. Both our authors consume their area, but in different ways. Your author was concerned with turning a profit, and mine was concerned with...how stupid he looked on a donkey. Ok, mine was concerned with more than that, but you get my point. I realize that Edward Dicey's account of Egypt was that of a consumer, and yet I still think that my text had more warmth. Yours was filled with objective information, but as you presented, I couldn't help thinking that it seemed a bit cold. So perhaps The Morning Land is too filled with the human - warts and subjectivity and all - but I wonder if your text went too far in ignoring the human in favor of the fish or the ram. Maybe our authors should get together for a collaborative effort? I'm sure Edward Dicey would look equally ridiculous on a ram as he did on a jackass:).

I'll update with the paper section of this prompt -- promise!