How would you feel about interacting with algorithmic avatars of your favorite authors—living or dead—with respect to their books? (Names have been changed to random initials to protect the identity of respondents, but other identifiers such as age, profession and/or location, have been retained at respondent’s discretion) (M, age 45, Adjunct Professor of English at a university in the Pacific Northwest) Would this newest feature limit attendees to questions about author’s books, or would they be permitted to delve into the personal? (M) I ask because most fans—myself included—fixate on their favorite actor, musician, artist, so on and so forth, as if artist and art are one and the same. Because they are incapable (unwilling?) to separate the two. Whether or not it is even possible to do so is for another day. My point is, let me give you an example of what would likely happen if I could choose to engage with a fav. if I could speak to one of my all-time favorite poets, I would choose Emily Dickinson. This is what I would say: You would not believe it, even considering your immense imagination (I conclude based on my reading of your poetry), you are considered one of the most important and tragic of poets of all time. But fame does not come without its downfalls. I hesitate to say this, because it will likely be triggering, but for your sake really, I must bring you up to speed. Some Dickinson scholarship speculates that you had a history of sexual abuse. For example, the author of the book A Wounded Deer: The Effects of Incest on the Life and Poetry of Emily Dickinson makes this claim: “The biggest challenge to Dickinson scholarship has always been to discover which specific life experiences conspired to make Emily Dickinson both the reclusive woman she was, and the dynamic poet she became.” Upon a first read, one likely will skim over the assumption that this statement is based upon. I see a couple of assumptions immediately because I have been thinking about the issue of for quite some time. This author assumes that the woman and the poet are essentially one and the same, and as such that woman/poet’s life experiences contribute to her identity as woman and poet. Note what the author takes for granted in the relationship between person/poet/poetry: “This book concludes that Emily Dickinson’s enigmatic poetry originated from her personal exposure to incest and examines how she used her craft to make the transition from victim to survivor at a time when the medical profession failed to acknowledge any damage related to this event.” I know that is quite the claim! This author poses you as intentional and active agent using your creative powers to turn yourself from victim to survivor of incest. As if she could know your intentions purely from the poems that you penned. On what evidence does this author base her incendiary claim? “Family background, evidence from letters and poems, and testimony provided by people who knew Dickinson” and uses E.Sue Blume’s checklist or diagnostic tool used internationally by incest therapists to diagnose incest survivors. She concludes that it was probably your father (I’m sorry) who was the perpetrator. The book (the author, both?) further claims to provide “an access key, allowing previously unfathomable poems to be understood as coded complaints about incest, child abuse, and rape. Writing was Dickinson’s way of identifying the nature of her trauma, coming to terms with its impact, breaking the silence to inspire future women writers, and reconstructing a new persona, albeit from the sanctuary of her self-imposed isolation.” Wow, that is a lot to attribute to someone like you, dear Emily, who are not present in the flesh to confirm or deny. Albeit, this book, like others of its kind, interprets through the lens of psychology studies and medicine, fields in which I am no expert, and I have not read it. But you, Avatar Emily, are you up to the task of scouring the archives to accurately represent what Emily in her heart of hearts would say in response? Even if you could mimic what the real Emily would say or do—there’s the likelihood that she would either refuse to engage and/or lie outright, for wasn’t she vehemently protective of her privacy—no one could ever know what lies in anyone’s heart of hearts, not even among those of us who belong still, to the living. Wait a minute, if I were to ask Emily if she really was abused by her father, why would I want to know? Would that not make me guilty of using the lives of others for sensationalism? Does that not label me part of the same crowd who assume as true that the author necessarily writes from lived experience?
Survey Part 1
Survey Part 1
Survey Part 1
How would you feel about interacting with algorithmic avatars of your favorite authors—living or dead—with respect to their books? (Names have been changed to random initials to protect the identity of respondents, but other identifiers such as age, profession and/or location, have been retained at respondent’s discretion) (M, age 45, Adjunct Professor of English at a university in the Pacific Northwest) Would this newest feature limit attendees to questions about author’s books, or would they be permitted to delve into the personal? (M) I ask because most fans—myself included—fixate on their favorite actor, musician, artist, so on and so forth, as if artist and art are one and the same. Because they are incapable (unwilling?) to separate the two. Whether or not it is even possible to do so is for another day. My point is, let me give you an example of what would likely happen if I could choose to engage with a fav. if I could speak to one of my all-time favorite poets, I would choose Emily Dickinson. This is what I would say: You would not believe it, even considering your immense imagination (I conclude based on my reading of your poetry), you are considered one of the most important and tragic of poets of all time. But fame does not come without its downfalls. I hesitate to say this, because it will likely be triggering, but for your sake really, I must bring you up to speed. Some Dickinson scholarship speculates that you had a history of sexual abuse. For example, the author of the book A Wounded Deer: The Effects of Incest on the Life and Poetry of Emily Dickinson makes this claim: “The biggest challenge to Dickinson scholarship has always been to discover which specific life experiences conspired to make Emily Dickinson both the reclusive woman she was, and the dynamic poet she became.” Upon a first read, one likely will skim over the assumption that this statement is based upon. I see a couple of assumptions immediately because I have been thinking about the issue of for quite some time. This author assumes that the woman and the poet are essentially one and the same, and as such that woman/poet’s life experiences contribute to her identity as woman and poet. Note what the author takes for granted in the relationship between person/poet/poetry: “This book concludes that Emily Dickinson’s enigmatic poetry originated from her personal exposure to incest and examines how she used her craft to make the transition from victim to survivor at a time when the medical profession failed to acknowledge any damage related to this event.” I know that is quite the claim! This author poses you as intentional and active agent using your creative powers to turn yourself from victim to survivor of incest. As if she could know your intentions purely from the poems that you penned. On what evidence does this author base her incendiary claim? “Family background, evidence from letters and poems, and testimony provided by people who knew Dickinson” and uses E.Sue Blume’s checklist or diagnostic tool used internationally by incest therapists to diagnose incest survivors. She concludes that it was probably your father (I’m sorry) who was the perpetrator. The book (the author, both?) further claims to provide “an access key, allowing previously unfathomable poems to be understood as coded complaints about incest, child abuse, and rape. Writing was Dickinson’s way of identifying the nature of her trauma, coming to terms with its impact, breaking the silence to inspire future women writers, and reconstructing a new persona, albeit from the sanctuary of her self-imposed isolation.” Wow, that is a lot to attribute to someone like you, dear Emily, who are not present in the flesh to confirm or deny. Albeit, this book, like others of its kind, interprets through the lens of psychology studies and medicine, fields in which I am no expert, and I have not read it. But you, Avatar Emily, are you up to the task of scouring the archives to accurately represent what Emily in her heart of hearts would say in response? Even if you could mimic what the real Emily would say or do—there’s the likelihood that she would either refuse to engage and/or lie outright, for wasn’t she vehemently protective of her privacy—no one could ever know what lies in anyone’s heart of hearts, not even among those of us who belong still, to the living. Wait a minute, if I were to ask Emily if she really was abused by her father, why would I want to know? Would that not make me guilty of using the lives of others for sensationalism? Does that not label me part of the same crowd who assume as true that the author necessarily writes from lived experience?