Reflections

First of all, I should thank Dr Deng for his dedication to this course, and his constant desire to 're-vision' and restructure it for the students' benefit, instead of following a rigid schedule. I'm not very fond of blogging, but it has nevertheless been a nice change from the discussion forums of other modules. As for the module itself, I took it partly to meet requirements (who doesn't?), but also because (as some earlier posts have stated) communication with others isn't exactly my forte, and so I was interested in learning more about it. While I consider myself a fairly decent writer, I'm not very aware of the 'technical' side of language - my knowledge of the technicalities of grammar and syntax is superficial to say the least, as is my awareness of the underlying structures of writing. My command of language is instinctive, and while it has served me well enough thus far, any self-respecting literature student should have some technical knowledge of the language as well.

This module has thus given some useful insights into the more empirical side of communication, in both writing and social interaction. However, as the previous post suggests, it has also caused me to think about the role of language in our lives. We cannot allow our use of language to be dictated purely by practical or empirical concerns, but my fear is that that is exactly what is happening here. The appalling general standard of English, even among undergraduates, seems to be proof of that - as long as your poor speaking and writing is 'understandibilililile' by others just as bad as yourself, you can get by. This should simply not be the case. Of course, that is not to say that linguistic precision is the be all and end all either - it must be mated with a certain sense of style, flair and eloquence, and, above all, a desire to give pleasure to the reader or listener. It may be a cliche, but I consider the comment 'A pleasure to read' the highest compliment one can receive for an essay. Unfortunately, I haven't received it quite as often as I'd like.

Lest this ends up as a repeat of the previous post, I'll just sign off by saying that this was a really enjoyable and interesting module, and one that I won't forget too quickly. Hopefully the next batch will appreciate it even more. Remember though: Communication (capitalised) should never just be about communication.

Session 10 - Business and Professional Interactions (30 October 2009)

Although there was no actual discussion of this topic, I feel obliged to say something as my project is based on the CARS model. In a nutshell, I found that literary article introductions could be shown to conform to the model, although they were generally 'looser' and more fluid than scientific RA introductions. While no doubt slightly biased, I feel that literary articles do strike a nice balance between linguistic flair and empirical structuring; in our excessively pragmatic education system, the latter is too often emphasised at the expense of the former. As students, we are constantly told to order our thoughts and present our arguments in a logical and structured fashion. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with that on its own (on the contrary, it is extremely important), all too often it results in a 'dead' writing style devoid of the vitality and expressiveness of a living language. I guess my point is: why can't we eat our cake and have it too? As my project (hopefully) shows, it is possible if only we don't lose sight of the essential quality of good writing, namely that it should not only inform, but entertain and delight. To that end, literary articles have much to offer, as do their subjects - the countless great writers who, while often writing for the most pragmatic purpose of all (i.e. $$$), have nevertheless entertained and delighted generations of readers, and will continue to do so.

Session 9 – Cross-Gender Interaction (23 October 2009)

I’m all for gender equality across the board, which, as today’s class suggests, would include ‘de-sexing’ language completely. Not an easy task, but if it can be done it most certainly should. Of course, gender equality would also, among other things, mean ‘National’ Service for women, equal standards for physical fitness (I know the current disparity only too well as I failed my idiotic fitness tests in JC, but would have got a GOLD if I had gone for a sex change – not that a gold would have made the tests any less idiotic, but it would have made life easier for me), no ‘ladies first’ situations, and men being able to wear skirts in public without being subjected to abuse. Double-edged sword and all that.

On the other hand, some would argue that the fundamental differences are insurmountable. Here’s a famous poem I like that, though heavily biased from a male perspective to say the least, suggests that the gulf can never be bridged. Although its misogynistic sentiments would be probably regarded as pretty rebarbative today, it’s still a great example of rhetoric from one of the great masters of the language.

.

The Vampire (1897)

.

A fool there was and he made his prayer

(Even as you and I!)

To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair

(We called her the woman who did not care)

But the fool he called her his lady fair -

(Even as you and I!)

.

Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste

And the work of our head and hand

Belong to the woman who did not know

(And now we know that she never could know)

And did not understand!

.

A fool there was and his goods he spent

(Even as you and I!)

Honour and faith and a sure intent

(At it wasn't the least what the lady meant)

But a fool must follow his natural bent

(Even as you and I!)

.

Oh, the toil we lost and the spoil we lost

And the excellent things we planned

Belong to the woman who didn't know why

(And now we know that she never knew why)

And did not understand!

.

The fool was stripped to his foolish hide

(Even as you and I!)

Which she might have seen when she threw him aside -

(But it isn't on record the lady tried)

So some of him lived but the most of him died -

(Even as you and I!)

.

And it isn't the shame and it isn't the blame

That stings like a white-hot brand -

It's coming to know that she never knew why

(Seeing, at last, she could never know why)

And never could understand!

.

Rudyard Kipling

Session 8 - Computer-Mediated Communication (CMC) (16 October 2009)

The first thing that came to mind when I saw the acronym CMC was vintage cars. I collect 1/24 and 1/18 scale model cars, and CMC is a German company that makes some of the finest (and most expensive) models of vintage automobiles: http://www.cmc-modelcars.de/en/index.htm I must have spent a small fortune on them, but better that than clubbing or clothes or hair or expensive electronic gadgets that did not have contact with a single human hand during production and become obsolete within two minutes of purchase.

Speaking of electronic gadgets, it seems that a lot of them dominate our lives and reduce them to impersonal simulations of reality (a bit like how model cars represent the real thing until you actually want to drive somewhere), or are the best thing since... the last best thing, depending on which camp you’re in. Personally I fall somewhere in between at the moment; I used to be very old-fashioned, hating change of any kind and wishing, in frequent bouts of Keatsian angst, for the perpetuity of all things bright and beautiful. Now, however, although still old-fashioned in some ways (I refuse to wear a non-mechanical watch, for instance), I’ve come to accept and even embrace advanced technology. In fact people like me, who find social communication and interaction as difficult and non-intuitive as walking sideways with your eyes shut while simultaneously balancing a beach ball on your head and reciting Paradise Lost from memory, have never had it better, what with SMS and e-mail and ‘msn’ and the like replacing face-to-face contact in so many instances. Not only that, such technology also enables me to compose what I want to say in full before communicating it, unlike the old-fashioned telephone (a phone that actually enables you to talk to someone only! Who’d have thought of that?).

I’ve realised that what I really can’t stand is not CMC itself, but rather the users of CMC who allow its convenience to degrade their language skills to the point that it actually becomes physically painful to read the results of their ‘communication’, if it could be called thus. Unfortunately we had the displeasure of doing just that in class, in the name of academic research; my own research after reading that mess involved finding a speedy migraine cure. No one expects Queen’s English or every single word to be spelled out in full, but the depths to which some ‘CMCers’ sink defies belief. The standard of English here isn’t great to being with, and this only makes it worse. Anyway, I’d lik 2 sine off wif a gd eg of wat I’m toking abt. Hop u cn udrstnd mi. Thn agn, if u cnt it prvs my pt only 2 wll.

Session 7 ('Virtual') - Face and Politeness (9 October 2009)

To be honest I found it a bit difficult to distinguish between the different types of maxims at first (tact, generosity, approbation, modesty, agreement, sympathy), but quickly realised that it was because, despite the ‘official’ linguistic differences, they all have the common, fundamental quality of undervaluing or denigrating the speaker, and elevating or 'empowering' the receiver. Since I like to play Devil’s Advocate (i.e. am a big jerk), I then wondered cynically: is that basic quality the core of all social interaction, and is it, paradoxically, only valued because most of us are highly self-centred beings? After all, a ‘nice’ or ‘wonderful’ person (as viewed by others) is almost always one who ‘gives of him/herself’, ‘always thinks of others’, ‘is not afraid to laugh at him/herself’, [insert further 20 000 clichés here]. In other words, a person who ‘weakens’ him/herself to make others ‘stronger’, something that would appeal to our basic survival instinct. If every single person were as humble, generous and self-sacrificing as that, what would happen? Would human progress grind to a halt since everyone would be giving and receiving equally, thus maintaining a comfortable equilibrium? Would such values cease to be so highly admired since everyone had them, thus leading to the valuing of ‘negative’ traits like selfishness, individualism, egotism, vanity, megalomania etc. (since they do have positive aspects, after all)? Although we probably don’t need to worry about such things since hell will freeze over before the above scenario occurs (in fact, there won’t be a need for hell at all if it does).

Seem to have gone off on a little tangent, so to make this relevant: I think all the other blogs on this course are Miraculous Masterpieces, evidence of the Divine Will on Earth, while this one is but a miserable, insipid attempt at imitating their coruscating perfection. How’s that for approbation and modesty?

Section 6 - Components and Representation (2 October 2009)

A bit late this week. Liked the term ‘uncertainty avoidance’, although I was very confused initially about whether a greater degree of uncertainty avoidance meant a correspondingly greater degree of willingness to face changes and uncertainty, or if there was an inverse relationship. Guess it’s a question of semantics. ‘Uncertainty tolerance’ would probably have been a bit clearer. The part about ‘individualism’ and ‘collectivism’ also struck a personal chord with me, as I would like to pursue graduate studies overseas soon, one of the main reasons for that being the relative stifling of individuality here. To be fair, I don’t really feel too much pressure to meld my identity with that of any larger group or collective (my parents are quite liberal, though I do get the ‘vibes’ of collectivism from some older relatives), but neither do I feel that my identity is my own to create. On the other hand, I also suffer from high (or is that low?) uncertainty avoidance, so breaking away from the comforts of home and a relatively stable, ordered, crime-and-graffiti-free life would probably be a step too far at present...

Session 5 - Written Discourse (18 September 2009)

Another logical follow-up, this time from last week’s spoken discourse. Apparently Chinese writing is more indirect, circular and ‘suggestive’ than English writing, which is more linear and structured. Am not entirely sure about this actually – that may be true of some kinds of writing (e.g. reports, academia), but surely there are many examples of English writing that follow the more obscure style; being a Literature major, I’ve certainly encountered my fair share of writing with more twists and turns than an F1 race track, and enough circumlocutions to tie one’s mind in painfully inextricable knots. This, rather unsurprisingly, is most evident in poetry, so I find it interesting that the famous Li Bai poem (don’t know the English title – something like ‘Meditations at Midnight’) was used to illustrate the ‘four-part structure’ of Qi (introducing), Cheng (developing), Zhuan (transiting to a seemingly unrelated subject), and He (closing). Similar to the previous post, I thought I would use a simple English poem to show how that same structure could be applied to it. The poet is A.E. Housman (1859–1936), who is probably as famous in English literature as Li Bai is in Chinese literature (though perhaps not as emotionally mature):

When the bells justle in the tower (Qi)
The hollow night amid, (Cheng)
Then on my tongue the taste is sour (Zhuan)
Of all I ever did. (He)

As you can see, there are clear similarities between the poems – both have four lines, both deal with a personal experience at night, and most importantly both convey that sense of the obscuring of literal meaning. I can certainly identify with the feeling expressed by the poem (though I don’t live near any bells), but looked at logically it doesn’t make too much literal sense. The four-part structure doesn’t fit Housman’s poem nearly as well as Li Bai’s, but it comes fairly close. So I remain rather undecided on the differences between Chinese and English writing, or at least on how pronounced they are.

Session 4 - Spoken Discourse (11 September 2009)

Today’s session covered quite a lot of ground – telephone conversations, narratives and listener responses (not much time for the last one). Can’t comment much on telephone conversations as I don’t have a lot of them at the moment (if a grand total of zero can be considered ‘not a lot’), but I can certainly identify with some of the phone closings mentioned, particularly the philosophical summing-up, which I’ve unfortunately been guilty of more than once. ‘Well, that’s how things are... can’t do anything about it’; ‘Ah, such is Murphy’s Law’; ‘Guess we’ve all learned something from this...’ So lame that I should be walking with a limp for the rest of my life.

The part I personally found most interesting was English and Chinese narratives, and the differences between them. Since my last real contact with Chinese narratives was back in secondary school (and I wasn’t very good at deciphering them even then), the realisation that stories were still told in Chinese came as quite a shock, not to mention the realisation that languages other than English still existed (‘I thought everyone speak Engerland, what!’). In any event, English writers apparently provide more information and background for their characters (names, backstories, relationships etc.), focus more on actions and activities, and make more direct statements, while Chinese writers tend to withhold information and emphasise the temporal aspect of the story. Where moral statements are concerned, English writers tend to present them implicitly while Chinese writers are more explicitly didactic (again, big shocker there): ‘Confucius say, man who walk sideways through airport sliding door is going to Bangkok!’

Anyway, to conclude, I thought it would be interesting to analyse a short passage in English to see how far it conforms to the conclusions about English writing above; for obvious reasons, I can’t analyse a Chinese passage too. The one I’ve chosen should be quite familiar – the celebrated opening of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (1813):

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
‘My dear Mr Bennet,’ said his lady to him one day, ‘have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?’
Mr Bennet replied that he had not.
‘But it is, returned she, ‘for Mrs Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.’
Mr Bennet made no answer.
‘Do you not want to know who has taken it?’ cried his wife impatiently.
‘You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.’
This was invitation enough.
‘Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.’
‘What is his name?’
‘Bingley.’
‘Is he married or single?’
‘Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!’

As can be seen, personal details for character identification – names, human relationships, backgrounds, marital status and financial information – are provided in abundance, while temporal ‘identifiers’ are in shorter supply, with cursory references to ‘Monday’, ‘Michaelmas’ and ‘next week’. At first glance, the famous opening line, and the one immediately following it, seems like an explicit moral statement of the kind that Chinese writers, rather than English, would favour, but of course Austen is being heavily, and amusingly, ironic – the lines are poking fun at social convention, exposing the ridiculous nature of contemporary social views of ‘a single man in possession of a good fortune.’ Hence Austen is not being explicitly didactic, but instead working through implication in elegant and amusing fashion. ‘Truth’, when presented in such a way, is seriously undermined, and is anything but the same kind of ‘truth’ that Chinese writers might expound in their narratives. This might not be the best or most suitable passage available for analysis, but it’s interesting to see how English writing from almost two hundred years ago can still be shown to meet the basic ‘expectations’ of English narratives.

Session 3 - Speech Events (4 September 2009)

Just a short post this week as I don’t really have anything erudite to say (why does that sound familiar?). Basically the subject of today’s class was the speech event, which is basically a more ‘formal’ and extended version of the speech act. Defined as a structured activity governed by rules for the use of speech, it can be broken down into various components, like genre, topic, purpose or function, setting, key, participants, message form, act sequence, rules for interaction, and norms of interpretation. Unfortunately, not having much of a social life, I can’t say that I have much experience with speech events since they require (gasp!) extended social contact, an unheard of phenomenon for me.

Anyway, to continue the theme of conflicted feelings from the last post, I thought I would analyse a regular speech event in my current schedule – consultations with my thesis supervisor. I’m often slightly uncomfortable during them because, although he’s very pleasant and accommodating, I’m slightly in awe of his distinguished bearing, eloquence and obvious intellect, qualities that I wish I possessed. So, ironically enough, the very qualities that make me want to know him better make it very difficult for me to do so. Thus I’m often caught between wanting to start a more ‘casual’ conversation and sticking strictly to the ‘official’ topic (i.e. the thesis). Hopefully the analysis will provide some interesting details. The points in parenthesis are what I would like to have in the speech event, but have yet to attain.

Genre: spoken
Topic: thesis (broader discussions about literature and unrelated topics)
Purpose or function: to help me write my thesis
Setting: supervisor’s office, once a week
Key: semi-formal (more casual)
Participants: me, supervisor; supervisor speaks, I listen and occasionally ask questions, and take notes (I speak more)
Message form: English
Act sequence:
Supervisor: Comments on my work, and suggestions on what to do next
Me: Response and questions
Supervisor: Answers to questions, and more suggestions
[Repeated again and again]

(Me: Questions about his background literary preferences, e.g. favourite author(s), modules, etc.
Supervisor: Replies to questions, questions to me
Me: Replies to questions, further questions to him
[And so on])

Rules for interaction: relatively casual, but no bad language or slang
Norms of interpretation: none, although some literary knowledge would be useful

As you can see, I’d like to change the tenor and content of this particular speech event in a small but significant way, but haven’t been able to do so yet. Perhaps I’ll get down to it next week, once the pig in the backyard takes wing.

Session 2 - Speech Acts (28 August)

Hello, and welcome to my blog for GEK1036: Cross-cultural Communication and Discourse. Am not very fond of the whole concept of blogging, so I’ll just try to imagine this as a kind of weekly newsletter; you can do the same if you’re so inclined.

The topic for today’s session was the speech act, namely ‘an utterance conceived as an act by which the speaker does something’ (Oxford Concise Dictionary of Linguistics), which I found interesting as (like most people, I suspect) I hadn’t previously thought that the boundaries of speaking and acting could cross. But of course it makes sense if you think about it long enough (i.e. about three seconds), since speech is usually the precursor to, and instigator of, many more ‘concrete’ actions – war, divorce (same thing?), making friends, etc. – and could thus be considered an ‘act’ on its own.

While there is of course a very wide range of speech acts, most of the class was spent discussing compliments and compliment responses, since deep down everyone just wants to be loved and accepted and made to feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The whole thing was very empirically done, with various strategies – e.g. accepting, returning, deflecting, rejecting, disagreeing, denigrating – clearly denoted and analysed across cultures; once again I hadn’t thought of analysing compliments so assiduously and systematically. Apparently, according to the research, Americans tend to accept compliments, while the vast majority of Chinese (over 95%) reject them, disagreeing and denigrating themselves, expressing embarrassment, or explaining. What a shocker.

Anyway (as you may have divined by this point), I’ve suddenly realised I have nothing very interesting or constructive to say about this topic, so I thought I’d discuss a ‘real world’ example of a compliment and compliment response that occurred in today’s class, which I’ve only just remembered (amazing how desperation can sharpen the memory). The fellow sitting next to me suddenly complimented me on my cursive handwriting – something like ‘I really like it’ or ‘it’s very nice’ (even desperate memories are limited). I was rather taken aback, firstly because at that moment I was lost in my own thoughts about the meaning of life, the meaning of death, our place in the universe, the cosmos, and what to have for lunch, and secondly because, although I had made a conscious attempt to improve my handwriting since entering slavery... I mean ‘N’S, I had always felt that my handwriting was still well below-par, being somewhat of a perfectionist (contradiction in terms?) on that score. So I felt conflicted, since on one hand it felt nice to have my effort (which, going by what I’ve seen in university, most people don’t seem to have made) recognised, but on the other I didn’t feel I deserved the compliment.

To use the terminology, I was caught between accepting the compliment and rejecting it via disagreeing and denigrating. Not wanting to do either, I responded with a vague ‘was that a compliment?’ – a lame attempt at humour by linking the natural speech act to the empirical discussion – and an expression that would have made a lobotomised orang-utan look like a paragon of intelligence. Not sure what the ‘moral’ of this little story is (besides the fact that schools should really teach penmanship and that I should probably make an appointment with a psychologist specialising in OCD), but perhaps it could be used to demonstrate that speech acts are sometimes not as clear-cut as their empirical classification in tables and research can make them seem. Well, think that’s enough for a first post.