E320M JOURNALS - ROGER MORGAN

INDEX:

CONTENTS:

Apr.29 - Zuleika Pt.2
Apr.27 - Zuleika
Apr.25 - Tanaguchi Garden
Apr.22 - Jude pt.2
Apr.20 - Jude the Obscure
Apr.17 - Pied Beauty Ranch
Apr.8 - Waller Creek
Apr.6 - Arnold Landscape vs. Tower Memorial Garden
Apr.1 - Adventures of Alice and Lewis
Mar.30 - William Morris
Mar.28 - St.Marys/Capitol Dome
Mar.9 - Oxford
Feb.17 - Texas Architecture
Feb.13 - Michael Wheeler Lecture
Feb.10 - Littlefield House & Pine
Feb.8 - The Sycamore vs. The HRC
Feb.3 - The Idea of a Man-Made World
Jan.27 - Sense of Place
Jan.22 - Discovery Learning

How does my experience of the weight of the past embodied in those traditions and buildings compare to that of the Oxford student and to that of the faculty in both places? As we learned in both Zuleika Dobson and Jude the Obscure, the architecture is a strikingly ancient reminder of the giants of literature, science and theology that preceded those characters of the novels. In my own situation, the reminders are more subtle. Perhaps, as Americans, or just history in general has learned a lesson about hanging that sort of weight upon average citizens. The spires and gothic facades of Oxford reflect an authority, not just educational, but also theological. Human nature reacts to religious authority out of fear and sometimes out of respect. By ignoring the watchful eye of the past, one is spitting in the face of God. Our society has turned away from the Bible for inspiration. Perhaps this is caused by scandals within the church. Perhaps the rising tide of tragic world events creates a synicism amongst the masses. Perhaps it is simply that people are more knowledgable in general and can see through some of the pyramid scheme that organized religion resembles. I feel the eyes of God upon me when I walk past the plaza building whose façade reads, “Ye Who Knows the Truth, Shall Be Set Free.” I feel the pressure of achievement from the flashing neon sign at University Co-op. So and so graduate of UT or professor has won the Nobel Prize. Nobel, noble…is it a coincidence that they sound the same? As I walk through the six pack where grass is set aside for my horse to feed upon while I’m in E320. Statues of great men, such as George Washington, Albert Sydney Johnson, Milton Berle, etc., are all reminding me of the sacrifices of the past. They are reminding me how insignificant I really am. But, hey, that’s just me. Perhaps the real reason these things are visible is to remind kids of what they could become if they only set down their Nintendo games for a little while. I do not intend to sound sarcastic or disrespectful. It is easy for myself to become so engulfed in the tedious schedule of projects and tests that I forget some of the most important reasons why I’m here in the first place. I am trying to achieve a personal “greatness” that I’ve felt lacking in all my life. I’m trying to participate in an ancient ritual of the learned. I could care less if IBM or Exxon hires me after college. I spit in THEIR faces. I’m trying to feel a part of history. What little that UT does have that compares little to the overwhelming history of Oxford, I can use to remind myself of tradition. As Beerbohm notes about the college student in Zuleika, “The buildings and their traditions keep astir in his mind whatsoever is gracious” (189). There is plenty of “gracious” to be found on the UT campus. In modern society, we are vastly more well-read than previous societies and therefore do not need to “read” architecture in the same manner. We have outlets of knowledge that previous generations did not possess. We can google for the answers until our fingers are raw. We can turn on the television or radio for a good dose of current events.
   It is human nature to want to become immortal. We are all too aware of our immortality and would like to believe that at least someone in 2200 A.D. might set their thoughts on our existence. Who hasn’t fantasized being carved into marble? It would be an honor to have birds poop on me every day.

What I walk away with after reading Zuleika Dobson may be completely different than what others might find. I see the clever parody of chivalry through the lineage of British ancestors. What better way to extend this dedication to love and worship of the opposite sex than at a college campus where hormonal activity is at its peak? Furthermore, within the confines of Oxford with its sad, gothic architecture reminding us of a great weight that is its history and past alumnus. College life is so brief in the big picture so it is very difficult to allow the weight of its history to sink in for an undergraduate. At UT, this is especially difficult since the surroundings are relatively infantile compared to the great learning facilities of Europe. Except in very isolated cases (such as portions of the President’s Offices and The Hall of Noble Words) UT maintains a modern façade that doesn’t hint at deep history. As Beerbohm suggests, “The undergraduate, in his brief periods of residence, is too buoyant to be mastered by the spirit of the place” (189). Focus remains on the purpose of securing financial security and not upon one’s part in the historical stepladder. A person that remains at UT for either further study or a professorship has more time to ponder the meaning of the university’s timeline and rich history. Although the face of the buildings does not reflect old world sensibilities a person can still appreciate their position as a cog in the machine. Beerbohm suggests, “It is on him who stays to spend his maturity here that the spirit will in its fullness gradually descend” (189). The university can act as a buffer to the harsh realities of life. Most undergraduates have not learned what this means yet because they see the world through rose-colored glasses. Their reflections later upon those brief college years will be that of appreciation once they are stuck in a rut working for some corporate monolith.

The natural book that Taniguchi has created does not only beg to be read, it will read to you! The waterfall crackles non-stop without even a pause. Hardly any other living beings or organisms can get a word in edgewise. The life around these ponds are driven by water. Water is the key to every living being that inhabits the garden. The goldfish, huge by most standards, enjoy a long life of tranquility in this miniature Eden. Birds dive into the slow moving waters for their dinner. The rat race can be clearly heard beyond the barrier of bamboo—cars along the motorway, the screaming of young children as they play soccer on the fields below. Stones built into walls and aqueducts carry the essence of life through the Tanaguchi Garden and allow everything it touches flourish with life. Nature in this oasis resists the overbearing progress of city life.
   Tanaguchi’s rocks and mortar are a fortress against de-evolution. The Garden is a natural Alamo fighting the overwhelming Santa Ana of the Rat Race. On this calm April afternoon, a gloom sets over the greenbelt of the Tanaguchi. A simple crossing of the bamboo bridge does not produce a reflective moon or sun. However, the reflective nature of the pool at the foot of the waterfall produces a looking-glass effect. The imagination runs wild when thinking deeper about the alternative world of the looking glass Tanaguchi! The waterfall flows upward, after arriving out of the Earth’s core. Trees protrude downward, hang lazily. I begin to allow my senses to be overwhelmed by smells of nature. I can smell the freshness of vegetation in spring. It begins to remind me of my childhood. It reminds me of lazy summers spent exploring the untouched woods of northeast Oklahoma. It conjures up memories I had almost forgotten—a connection with nature that I had scarcely visited since. The blast of a train’s horn shakes me back to reality. On further inspection, I note that the barriers and stairways that Tanaguchi had constructed to harness this awesome display of nature have a chaotic and asymmetrical construction, like nature itself. Many of the natural dykes along the pond have ferns and other vegetation coexisting between the cracks. The plants accept his creation in a way that it could not to a perfectly formed sidewalk. One must walk carefully and gently along the uneven stones, “feeling” the bumps and valleys of life. One must yield to the animals and insects in this utopia. Man does not impose his superiority over nature in this place. We are all creatures that feed upon this streaming essence of life.
   The natural wooden bridge spans the little pond as if to say to us, “let me help you get across.” The offensive steel and metal is not needed here—nature can help you cross into that other world of natural beauty. Everything screams of symbolism. The water flows in a continuous loop—a circle of life, if you will. The symbolism of the bamboo escapes me. Perhaps it is a layer that protects nature from the harmful elements. The bamboo hut protects one from the bearing heat of the Texas sun or the occasional rainstorm.

More thoughts upon Jude’s ill attempts at higher education creep into my mind. It comes down to a couple of basic problems. First, he has little in the way of example. Granted, Mr. Phillotson plants the seed of knowledge initially but is not all that it seems. We learn later that Mr. Phillotson has a pattern of inconsistency no matter how devoted to his career it might seem. And, of course, Jude’s aspirations are driven by what he perceives must be the outcome of Phillotson’s move to Christchurch. The disappointment Jude probably felt after learning of his mentor’s decidedly demoted lot in life have a negative connotation on those dreams. Jude’s attempts at self-study are commendable but he tries to take the cart before the horse. Greek and Latin are not good starting points for building blocks. The prerequisites of college in Jude’s time were geared for the privileged children. Only the rich could have their children tutored in Latin and Greek in order to prepare them for finishing school. Jude realizes this when he gets to Christchurch and begins to observe the studious young men from his workman’s perch. He realized how far apart his own learning and studiousness was from theirs in his reflection that, “…he was as far from them as if he had been at the antipodes” (70). Although he knew that he would be unable to adjust to the speed of Christchurch without moving there he also could see that the other students, “in passing him did not even see him, or hear him, rather saw through him as through a pane of glass at their familiars beyond” (70).
   Jude should have started slowly with some Voltaire or Shelly and then progressed into other classics and then onto superior language. His frustrations are only amplified by his confusion about religion and a career in the priesthood. You cannot force a career like this. It must come from a true ambition to serve God and not from some whimsical fancy to be a moral person. Jude’s unusual upbringing undoubtedly caused much of his confusion as to which path to take. In small towns, especially agricultural ones, higher learning is seen as eccentric and out of the ordinary. People are expected to learn the trades of their ancestors and prepare to step up and fill the shoes as quickly as possible. Small towns do not see the big picture of change and progress. They are locked in time and, perhaps, as a gentle way of saying they don’t want to see their kids move away, try to persuade them to forgo higher learning and instead stay behind and savor the old world. The temptations of the village women are there to cement your feet to the old world. They taunt Jude about his book learning and wish to indulge him in other kinds of learning. And this is another field of expertise that Jude is quite inexperienced in and which ends up in a failed marriage. It just seems like poor Jude became a victim of his hormones, which overwhelmed his other senses of ambition and foresight. He just gave in to all those feelings of helplessness in a family sense. He needed more guidance from parental factors discouraging his deeper feelings about his cousin. He needed to be around more college girls. He needed a few nights out on the town with his college chums.

One can’t help but feel a little sympathetic to Jude’s dashed hopes and dreams. He has this fighter’s tenacity though that I find very inspiring. It seems like his whole support system is non-existent or negligent at best. Having the parental encouragement severed from one’s life is no minor event. I can’t say that I had quite as much discouragement to attain higher learning that Jude had but I can certainly relate to his misadventures. His resolve to place himself physically in Christchurch first and then deal with the consequences or challenges of entering the college next rang true with me. I, too, had a similar experience early in life. From my small community in Oklahoma, I viewed Austin as a beacon of hope upon the hill. It was quite a bit more expensive than what I was accustomed to but I spent an entire summer working and saving in order to rent a decent house in Austin. My original intentions were centered around the music business but it later included higher education. When anxiously awaiting a reply to his plea from the college officials, Jude had the thought that this possible entry into Christchurch was, “one last chance of redemption” (93). When the calling for college came later for me, in an odd way it seemed like a last chance of redemption for me as well. And, of course, all of life’s little monkeywrenches such as love and acceptance play a major part in one’s development. I could feel the wrenching pains that Jude must have felt when he realizes that Mr. Phillotson’s situation is quite different than he had envisioned. It’s as if all these foundations you’ve built up to support your very reasons for pursuing such an endeavor are washed away like the ocean washing the sand from the beach. The mind is able to justify storing these bad things away as if nothing happened but they tend to leave lasting marks on your soul.
   Again, when Jude hits an emotional wall after his return to his Aunt’s house, he recalls, “It was hell—‘the hell of conscious failure,’ both in ambition and in love” (101). When I first returned to my hometown after five years away, I felt this same pricking feeling of failure in both ambition and love. However, I later realized that it was exactly the fuel I needed to make the final leap away from my past and into my future. When you are immersed in such a thing, it is dreadful and disheartening but you can look back and realize its importance later. One thing I’ve learned in life is that failures are not an end but a beginning of sorts. They are certainly a motivator if you let them be. They are a call for revision, a revision of your life. I like that description.

As I wandered behind the Pied Beauty, through the clearing and out into the open field, I feel a transfer from my city space to a country space. I imagine myself in the center of a thirty foot cylinder which extends up into the sky. In fact, I imagine looking down upon myself as I sit among the native plants, the animals and the insects. I seem to be surprisingly well-adapted as an animal yet I stand out as an anomaly by being so concerned about perfection or orderliness. Nature without my presence could care less about that. The beauty is in the chaos and disorderliness of its daily regime. Nature relies upon the wind and elements to “clean” its face. It doesn’t worry about when this might take place either. Nature allows for the unexpected occurrences that might drive myself crazy. I, as a homosapien, expect to have some control over the processes of my life. Undoubtedly, this is an illusion as I probably have a lot less control than I’d like to believe. Nature, however, can live with the imperfections that color its existence. Even in its scattered appearance, nature has some sort of feeling of perfection. It doesn’t feel like my ‘ideal place.’ My tendencies toward ordered life make me feel more comfortable. I attribute this to my submission to the rat race and its unending demands for productivity. My body and mind demand a break from this carnival. One must descend upon the forests or the beaches in order to physically break from the monotony of progress. We are creatures that descend from the throws of nature and our very souls demand that we at least pay homage to our roots. This visit to the ranch does have a feeling of heaven in that it allows me to create an alternate space for my mind to relax and forget about the impending demands. There are still obstacles but they are much different than the ones in the city. You must worry about stepping in cow dung instead of stepping in front of a car. You look at the animals and insects with the same curiosity that they look at you with. Have we grown this far apart in nature? Of course, we are not completely removed from the destruction of mankind. The roar of racing boats just over the trees in the lake can be heard. But, defiantly, nature continues on its course as it has millions of years. We are only a scratch on the surface. We are only the tip of the radio tower on the skyscraper that is time. Nature will engulf everything when it wishes. It is a tolerant mother to endure the ravishes of its negligent tenents. We don’t realize how easy eviction could come if nature so decides.

I witnessed an unusual occurence on Waller Creek today. Not one but two ghosts converging upon one another. Madame Curie moving upstream while Joe Jones is moving in the opposite direction. Marie is accustomed to moving upstream as she spent her entire life moving up the stream against the current. Jones knows the creek like the back of his hand so he glides easily down its lazy path. Both ghosts are glad to be frollicking in the creek's tranquil setting. There are no demands being made of them. Curie counts pebbles and generates numbers in her head.
   "I wonder how the velocity of the water changes as it tumbles over the cretaceous limestone?" inquires Curie.
   "Plenty of gravel: the few cubic feet spread along the rock border of the nature trail can easily be spare; and anyway the next rain will recalim part of it, nature, quite habitually, quite unconcernedly makes mincemeat of my project," (172) says Jones with much frustration.
   "We could crunch some numbers if you'd like; perhaps we could construct a new wall out of available material," replied Curie with enthusiasm.
   "I would like to stay as close to nature as possible. This creek has a lot of sentimental value to me. The loss of landscape threatens my sensibilities a lot less than the unnatural human garbage that drapes the exposed roots of the junipers."
   Even with the unwanted, intrusive reminders of the "rat race," nature carries on its unyielding, triumphant march into oblivion. The squirrels scramble to the water's edge, unable to easily bound across abundant tree limbs because of deforestation. Minnows swim upstream like the protesters in the trees. Resistance is futile. You must go with the flow.

Much like A.J. Del Cueto, in his quest to find nature that is coursing and contributing to the continuance of intellectual exploration at Oxford, we are trying to find the same that applies to UT. Here, it’s not so much the architecture that reveals any signs or revelations about nature (especially since there is little in the way of gothic ornamentation) but the inclusion of or lack of natural landscape or shrubbery. Oxford seems to have been planned to pay homage to nature and planned with room to expand without sacrificing the surrounding natural beauty. UT is confined within the limits of city life. Progress and innovation must be sacrificed if nature is to be assigned any space. The consequence of this minimal attention to nature is obvious. Dougill alludes to the fact that appreciation for nature is appreciation for God. People have slowly turned away from religious infatuation and perhaps it has some connection to our ability to completely dominate over nature as in city planning and such. In reflecting upon Oxford poetry, Dougill mentions how they (poems) “derive from the custom of university members to take long afternoon walks” and that “this was an age when many were familiar with the surrounding countryside for up to twenty miles in every direction” (618). In our class, we attempt a similar stratagem in contrasting the various university architectures with the native trees and the integration of Waller Creek with massive buildings and concrete. It is not quite as impressive as a walk in the countryside, as our recent excursion to Pied Beauty confirms. Nature has its own rules and demands upon the visitor than the hustle and bustle of the university. Not only the sights but the sounds and smells of the countryside contribute to the plethora of ideas which can be transferred into language via poetry or writing or whatever. The very extreme polarization of nature and civilization at Oxford allows the mind to bend from one extreme to the other and the mind is given so much detail in a country setting that cannot be duplicated on the forty acres of UT. Our buildings are without Gothic ornamentation therefore do not transmit the same sadness and longing for the past that the spires of Oxford produce.
   Again, while speaking about a Glanvill poem, Dougill says the poem “posits the ‘sick hurry’ and ‘divided aims’ of contemporary life…” (619) Nothing could be truer about the contrast of the Biology Ponds near the UT Tower and the student body passing by every day. The turtles live their lives at a snail’s pace seemingly unphased by the madness around them. The turtles don’t worry about making the meeting on time, all the while a large man-made clock hovers above them reminding them every 15 minutes that something is due. The rat race swirls intensely around their bubble of space. Meanwhile, the turtles go for a midday swim and then take a nap.

Probably the most inspiring portion of John Dougill’s analysis of Lewis Carroll’s Adventures of Alice in Wonderland is in the dissection of reality, which fueled his imaginative fires to create. In this case, the personalities and objects around Oxford, where the author spent his adult life. Undoubtedly, such creative fires needs a “drive” to push one’s will to create. In Carroll’s case, his obsession with the real life Alice and possible gender confusions, which positioned him within the realm of little girls and the minds of little girls. But the real point to this journal is to marvel at the way in which the author took the clay and molded it to his own liking. By simple observation of personalities within his own circle, he was able to craft imaginary creatures within his stories who adopted little quarks and personality traits of the real characters. For example Dougill mentions that the author was familiar with a hat maker “who was unbalanced by the fumes he inhaled while making hats” (603). This man was possibly the basis for the Mad Hatter character in his famous tale. Undoubtedly, his paranoia about the headstrong mother of Alice and her seeming hostility towards Carroll’s obsession with her daughter would be a logical template for his Queen in the story. But, it is also his creative ability to graft the woman and her subservient husband as the King and Queen characters onto the story with the parallels of the rules of Chess. This shows a serious mind at work on many levels. Carroll also cleverly dissects inanimate objects around the university and uses their unique charms to color his story with wild child-like abandon. To take a simple royal sculpture with elongated neck and transpose onto the Alice character is brilliant. The normal observance of a small door leading to a garden in which children love to play transferred to a tale in which small doors lead to adventures of some sort is animated genius.
   It is not so far-fetched to believe that there are many similar opportunities for creative writing at the University of Texas. Aside from the many personalities of the professors and students, one could imagine personality traits to be used in their writings. Even glorious statues of Civil War heroes speak about the horrors of the past and will talk to you if you let them. The statues of the elongated family outside the business building are begging for a place in the story. The hugeness of the stadium continues to amaze children when they tour the campus. This structure, in some metamorphosis could become an object of awe and inspiration if given the “write” touch. Those crazy kids who paint themselves orange and white and roam the streets in packs before UT football games are begging to be adapted to some tale or another. In short, the material for creative genius is out there, but it takes a certain spark to light the fire. Once that is in place, the rest is a matter of detective work.

According to Ruskin, naturalism in poetry could be found in its “heavy use of descriptive detail, often for its own sake, and often the cause of the great length of many Pre-Raphaelite poems” (702) Morris’ poems, ‘The Defence of Genevere’ and ‘King Arthur’s Tomb’ both fit the bill for these markers. Morris spends several lines describing minute detail about the color of cloth or a woman simply touching her cheek. Ford Madox Ford shows his love for color and light with the stanza, “They chased, as it were, all the year round over the bright valleys of the earth, their ideals of luminosity; from the backcloth of bright earth and sky they cut out, as if with sharp knives, square panels of eternal paint” (702) One can just envision the bright and sharp lines of the Pre-Raphaelite paintings which these words attempt to conjure up. Morris’ poems obviously take on a quality of DELIBERATE MEDIEVALISM in that he has chosen the chivalrous age of knights and damsels as his subject. He also harkens back to a time when beliefs were that magical spells could control people or that myths could be real. Morris insists that THE ORNAMENTAL OR DECORATIVE FUNCTION of poetry is served by “the tendency toward mysterious, unreal, incantatory reverie, toward a vage intangible mood created by colors and sounds alone…” (703) A good example would be his description of the stars and sky in ‘King Arthur’s Tomb’: “The stars shone out above the doubtful green / Of her bodice, in the green sky overhead; / Pale in the green sky were the stars I ween / Because the moon shone like a star she shed” (715). The use of color leaves a lasting impression upon the reader. It is as if the writer is casting a spell or a dream on the reader. And, last but not least, the use of Natural Supernaturalism is clearly seen in the Morris poetry about medieval time. He makes obvious reference to the mysterious world of supernaturalism in the lines, “When she dwelt up in heaven a while ago, / And ruled all things but God: the night went on, / The wind grew cold, and the white moon grew low, / One hand had fallen down, and now lay on” (715). And just the very fact that he has chosen this love saga of Guenevere shows a love for decadent Romanticism. Pre-Raphaelite poets stretch the language and draw out the suspense of love and chivalry, making the point in a descriptive way and not being concerned about the ‘quickest’ way to the truth. This is another contrast between the old world time schedule and the newer rat race time schedule. Modern man does not have the patience to flush out a good story with long, descriptive details. Our impulses want the meat of the subject fast and to the point. We feel that we have the innate skills to fill in the blanks, as it were. Ancient readers may have preferred to savor the enormous details of the poems and take their time in building a mental picture of what the author was trying to convey.

While absorbing the essence of the inside of St. Mary's Cathedral, one can feel the presence of holiness through its shape, its obvious sense of place and the authority of the religious icons embedded in stained glass. The colorful beauty of the stained glass is heightened by the flooding sunlight, the flesh color of the human features especially warm. Jesus' halo on the stained glass is especially designed to create a glowing aura that unmistakeably draws the eye to its importance. The clever use of royal color is also noticeable. Jesus is draped in a very rich red robe, trimmed with royal gold that glows with highlight of flooding sunlight. The dark, wooden beams trimmed with golden acanthus leaves form the skeletal frame.

   The sense of space while laying on the floor of the dome, looking upward: It's like an opposite vertigo effect. Oddly, the layered-cake levels above seem to be off-centered like a spinning top. The decor and overwhelming whiteness adds to its festive charm. It's like being inside a giant wedding cake. At this very moment, a bride in white passes while searching for photo ops. Place her on top of the dome with her accompanying groom. All of the ex-governors have been invited to the wedding.

The words ‘closing in on’ have a lot of different meanings when applied to the academic world. John Dougill recounts the inevitable enclosure of Oxford by the surrounding community in his quote, "For the academic community there was a very real sense of the modern world closing in, both philosophically and physically" (616). Not only the physical isolation of the buildings but also the deep divides of the haves and have nots run rampant around the community. The unlearned live in a world of hassles and life chores that allow very little time for intellectual thought or leisure to apply philosophy or reason to their daily lives. Their imaginations get the better of them as they imagine or despise the alternate world that sits beside them. By encasing itself, or insulating its world, Oxford created yet more strife between the community and its very large tenant. Shutting the gates at night, as indicated in Jude the Obscure, probably doesn’t improve the relationship between the institution and its surrounding community. In modern time, most of the community has a better appreciation for higher education and tolerate its excesses or arrogance. The Illustrated Zuleika also provides some insight on women’s ‘closing in’ on men’s exclusive territory. UT provides a glimpse of the fruition of that ‘closing in’ and it’s not as tragic as Twentieth Century males would have one believe. I would prefer to believe that humankind has ‘closed in’ on barbaric thought by finally allowing diversity among the intellectuals. Physically, UT shows signs of both being surrounded and isolated by progress and expanding its boundaries into the community. The overall lift in awareness of the benefits of college education give the community around us a more satisfied demeanor. The University of Texas has an open feel to its boundaries. Many of the non-attending community walk past or through the forty acres without restriction. Mostly, the two worlds mingle without conflict. You can still search out the remnants of past scholars by visiting ‘The Hall of Noble Words’ or other similar buildings or statues to great men. Dougill recalls the writing of Faber in ‘College Library’ where he "describes how a nearby churchyard lends a haunted air to the library as it seems to fill with dead men’s spirits, while the moonlight shadows that flicker on medieval works tell ‘Of quiet ages men call dark and drear,/For Faith’s soft light is darkness to the world" (615). When visiting the ‘Hall of Noble Words’ at precisely the right time of day, one can feel a haunting sort of presence of some of these great minds who left these mighty quotes for us to ponder. Walking around the campus at night also can be very exhilarating in a cerebral way. When I’m down about a class or an exam or whatever, a brisk walk at night around the campus can regenerate my confidence and bring home the reasons I bother with it in the first place. I feel as Edward Burne-Jones did when he wrote on life at Oxford: "Oxford is a glorious place; godlike!" and "at night I have walked round the colleges under the full moon, and thought it would be heaven to live and die here" (616). Although I do feel like I’ve spent an eternity here I’m not sure I’d want to live the rest of my life here. It is a glorious and inspiring place and I do feel a real connection to these past writings about Oxford.

One can only be amazed at the overzealousness of architect Nicholas Clayton after reading the article on Galveston’s image-maker. It is not surprising that after a century of Greek revivalism, that people would migrate back to a different style and look. Many, like Clayton, were attracted to the heavenly qualities of Romanesque and Gothic design. While the post-Civil War economy was rebounding and many fortunes were being made off the Galveston port, the nouveau riche were eager to design dwellings that matched their new status. Clayton seemed to relish in his aspirations without much thought to his own wealth, yet he spared no expense in designing these monstrosities. The churches were successfully riding a revival that allowed them the funds to back such large endeavors. Most of the averge citizens had fixed incomes that only allowed them to build with "materials on hand." (328) And to his credit, Clayton did attempt to provide materials from area. For some of his creations he chose "Limestone and pink granite handpicked from Texas quarries." (330) But more often, he imported materials "often arriving in the form of ballast were bricks and tiles from England, Belgium and Philadelphia." (330)
   My idea of "truth to nature" is building with indigenous materials and blending the natural asymmetry of trees and landscape to create a harmonious effect. Clayton’s designs are made for shock and awe, much like the religious shrines of ancient Italy. They are a wonder to look at but their truth to nature is questionable. But many of his residences do have a nod to the power of nature. Windows and arches were angled and designed with calculation. The article describes them as "styled to work in tune with the coastal environment." (331) Many had "open gable-ends and arches" that "were aimed on a tack with wailing sea breezes so that air funneled through big, gorgeous windows." (331) If this is not an attempt at bonding nature and progress, I don’t know what is. He made further attempts at my idea of "truth in nature" by using "Galveston’s cheapest building material," which is wood. His homes "jutted with esthetics, but made good sense." (331) The Strand sort of flies in the face of all this talk of nature and architecture. It’s overuse of symmetry and repetitive rows of arches and blended classical lines are dizzying. Mother nature would not be fooled. This is showboating by men who believe themselves to be God.

Michael Wheeler is an independent scholar and historical novelist who has been in the area to research religious organizations, namely Baptists. He claims that he was searching for the "buckle" in the Bible belt and found it in Sherman, Texas. He also mentions that in previous centuries, priests would fret over the fact that only 50% of the population was attending church services, a number that present day church leaders would kill for. Present day numbers usually range in the single digits.
   Dr. Wheeler's lecture centered on the middle 19th Century "crisis" in England involving the re-emergence of rivalries between Catholics and Protestants. This age old competitiveness has ultimately led to death and rioting as passions flared. He highlights the many avenues of political influence available to both sides, mainly Punch Cartoons (modern day political drawings which are descendents of the Ancient Broadsheets) and popular historical fiction, which was still in its infancy.
   Many historical watermarks were discussed such as in 1850 the Pope restored Catholic hierarchy which began a series of agitations by Protestants. Around this time The Chartists became very unruly and nearly started riots over the change in authority. Protestants felt that Catholicism represented oppression and misuse of power and that their religion represented religious liberty and the freedom of the individual. Obviously, this new power structure was a return to an age-old power play between the rivaling factions. Exacerbating the situation was the mass migration of Irish immigrants during the 'potato famine.' With Catholics pulling the reigns, much of the opposing literature was painted with 'End of the World' themes as Protestant-leaning ideas filtered into everyday reading. Pre-Raphaelite painters began to appeal to a wider public. Books such as Waverly by Sir Walter Scott and Guy Fawkes: Gunpowder Treason by William Ainsworth depicted Catholicism ever so subtly as the instigator. In fact, Guy Fawkes Night became a good launching pad for British protest over Catholic policy. Tower of London was based upon the execution of Lady Jane (a Protestant) by Queen Mary (a Catholic) and painted a very sympathetic Protestant view.
   Punch Cartoons became very popular and a good vehicle for these political duels. Many times Protestant influence showed the Catholic priest as a Wolf (representing him as an unnatural celibate priest) while at the same time depicting the average female parishioner as an innocent Goose. "Maria Monk" was a hugely popular cartoon figure, especially in America, but was regarded largely as a "Protestant Fake." He focused on a series of Punch cartoons that condemned the execution of Lady Jane by Queen Mary. In these drawings, Lady Jane was carefully drawn with tender features, like an innocent little lamb. Next to her was the "beastly" executioner, who seemed to be enjoying his nasty job. He was drawn with all his glorious body hair, bad teeth and unfitting clothes. Her features were pristine and graceful. What a crime it is that our beloved Lady Jane was thrown to the dogs in this manner. Westward Ho and Westminster Abbey were two novels he also mentioned that had underlying political agendas. The latter he likened to a modern day 'airport novel' which depicted roughly the abuses of Catholic power and the religious freedoms of Protestants.
   I couldn't find much from Dr. Wheeler's lecture to link to our own class, excepting maybe the role of literature to convey political themes. He did mention that on his recent trip through Texas he ran across an exact replica of the Crystal Palace on I-35 near Dallas.

Is the Littlefield home "true to nature?" In a sense, the answer is yes. When comparing the ‘changefulness’ of the architecture and design of the house to the sprawling pine tree next to it, the similarities in chaos and asymmetry are apparent. The home is a statement of the times in that it was strikingly different then the classic Greek style that was so popular before its construction. The symmetrical lines and columns of the Greek structures had given way to an increasing popularity in the Victorian Gothic style after the Civil War and is probably the best categorization for the Littlefield home. When comparing the sycamore to the Harry Ransom Center, the obvious differences in asymmetry and man’s idea of perfection versus nature’s idea were striking. Comparing the Littlefield and its own pine tree is a different kind of confrontation with man and nature. They both share a certain refusal to be easily classified, both by rules of their own categories. The pine does not adhere to the standard limb and leaf relationship as other trees, such as the sycamore. It does not shed its covering and reveal its mighty trunk. Nor does its limbs jut at upward angles, reaching toward the sky. It drapes and its limbs have a softer, relaxed look to them than the naked, jagged sycamore in winter. It is a well-adapted tree to the Texas climate, even in the harshest of winter. The structure is also hard to define within its category more so because it uses different styles randomly without consideration to styles that clash theoretically. The most immediately striking characteristic is its asymmetry and liberal use of Gothic style. Its as if the architect kept changing his mind about what the building was to look like. This confirms the first two of Ruskin’s essential categories SAVAGENESS and LOVE OF CHANGE, for defining ‘gothic.’ Within these categories, he insists that the structure confess "the imperfection of the workman" and exhibit a "perpetual variety of every feature of the building." (669) The latter is probably more arguable, however the imperfections of the designer in this case were obviously intentional. In arguing that said structure needs "this look of mountain brotherhood between the cathedral and the Alp" to meet the RUDENESS category, Ruskin accurately defines the carport attached to the back of the house. It’s open, arching space was a Texas version of the lightweight ambulatory vaults mostly associated with European Gothic cathedrals. Ruskin also suggests that a structure have a LOVE OF NATURE and in the Littlefield example, the pine tree helps to bond the structure to nature as much as any of the house’s details. The darker color and minimal repetition give the house a more natural feel as well. According to Ruskin, in order to classify this building as ‘gothic’ it should also include DISTURBED IMAGINATION. Well, the griffins on the mantelpiece are a little disturbing and certainly imaginative but the madness of the unrelated gothic steeples, various window designs, and iron railings hint of at least an attempt at non-conformity. Ruskin describes ‘gothic’ as having OBSTINACY or RIGIDITY. The elements of Romanesque or pseudo-Greek classicism are even atypical. The columns on the front entrance are paired irregularly with one on the left and two on the right and each have a darker, more exotic marble touch. Some of the outer walls are built with a sandstone or limestone that may be indigenous to the area. Combine these elements with strictly white marble steps, Carpenter Victorian roof, Romanesque stained glass windows and all of the other subtle differences that actually blend together harmoniously and they actually create "an elastic tension and communication of force from part to part." (669) This alone would satisfy the OBSTINACY requirement. Lastly, the house exhibits GENEROSITY in its obvious "bestowal of the wealth of its labor, accumulation of ornament,complexity" (669) Simply put, it is showy and Gaudy-like in its refusal to behave alongside buildings that are more conventional. I’m sorry that I didn’t get to spend the time basking in the actual presence of the building, instead having to rely on a static photo for my Manual Photography. Seeing the building in a natural environment, albeit a busy, commercial environment, with all the changefulness of nature around it is much more inspiring and usually reveals many subtle details that bubble to the surface. It limits my ability to react to the question of whether the building is true to nature.

The contrast between the geometrical oppression of the building and the chaotic, natural form of the sycamore tree is stark. Maybe the overachieving perfection of man’s creation has more to prove than the lackadaisical existence of the tree. The tree hasn’t a problem with change. In fact, it sports its glorious changing colors for each of the seasons. It is not worried about such things as immortality. The building, on the other hand, is SCREAMING to have its permanence noticed. The rows and stacks of boxes and rectangles, concrete and glass, seem to say, "Look at what I can do" or "I’m here to stay." However, the tree has more authority in this setting. Its grandeur is a small reminder that no matter what linear monstrosity you can prop up beside it, it still stands. Nature reigns supreme. The wood and the leaves of the sycamore have a ‘warm’ quality that no concrete fortress can match. The sycamore bends and sways and rustles with noise when the wind blows. Animals climb through or fly from the branches, recognizing its rightful place in nature. The best the building can muster is simple echo of urban noise. It can only reflect the noise of man. Sunlight sets the bright green and browns of the leaves aglow. The building sulks in its dull gray sadness. People come and go through the carousel of the building’s mouth. Animals and nature are off limits in this man-made environment. The sycamore tree is surrounded by man-made concrete like a lion tethered. The drawing of the tree was somewhat more complex simply because it has an ever-changing appearance. The changes aren’t as sudden or unmanageable as the streams that Ruskin mentions but simple movement back and forth can create a distraction to the mind. Distractions such as these make the transition of L and R Mode quite challenging. In explaining Ruskin’s theories on attention, Professor Bump mentions that "what he (Ruskin) means by this 'accuracy of attention' needed to appreciate the environment is simply the ability to concentrate, a power of the mind increasingly eroded in time by the countless demands and distractions that cater to a shrinking attention span." (377) In the case of the sycamore, one can observe a number of unquestionable traits and attributes immediately. Yet, the longer you contemplate the tree, the more variety you can perceive. Ruskin’s thoughts on the subject are that "no human capacity ever yet saw the whole of a thing; but we may see more and more of it the longer we look" (378) Our small time with the tree wasn’t nearly enough time to capture the tree’s true essence but merely enough time to get a meager lesson in the perception of the very different contrasts of civilization and nature.

In "The Idea of a Man-Made World," Norman Crowe highlights the debate that mankind is a part of nature’s evolution and that we are outside of the sphere of everything natural. Undoubtedly, both points are relevant, however I tend to sway towards the guilty verdict. His focus on the point that "Today there is an intense, worldwide concern for the balance between nature and the built world because it has become evident that this once harmonious relationship has gone awry." (210) rings true when reviewing the scientific data on global warming. It is easy to dismiss humans’ neglect of balance in nature as just bad gate keeping and eventually our evolutionary intelligence will fix all the wrongs. However, time is not on our side when looking at the big picture. If technology and industrial advancements can make leaps and bounds, as it did in the 20th Century, then our scientific intelligence about restoring nature’s resources should take the same leap. Considering the overwhelming population (and future unchecked population growth) of the Earth, radical change is needed in order to avoid a bleak, grid-like, man-made society. No warm-blooded Earth animal wants to live in a cold, concrete and steel sphere devoid of breathable oxygen and fresh-smelling plant life. Without trying to sound like a "tree hugger" and a "hippy," I would like to see architects take a step further than just providing a balance between nature and man’s obsession with his own created world. Wright and Le Corbusier built their houses as a "polemical statement about an ideal relationship with nature based on cultural factors rather than on scientific information about the natural setting." (206) The Earth has revolved around the Sun for millions of years, recycling itself when necessary, and providing its creatures with a nice balance of sustenance and comfort without missing a beat. When humans began to industrialize and deplete the Earth’s resources, they neglected to realize that those resources are very limited. It is now urgent that progress be postponed so that reverses in habit be instated so that nature can replenish and critical elements of the environment be re-established. Architects should consider building dwellings and workspaces underground with every inch of the planet committed to natural surface. Concrete and steel should be limited to structures that don’t interfere with the harmonious interaction of Sun and plant life. Earth surface should be utilized more efficiently as natural soil and food supplement. Humans are creative and can decorate their indoor surroundings to resemble natural environments. Dwellings that nestle under the earth are more practical as they use the natural Earth as a barrier for cold and heat. Certainly, these dwellings don’t satisfy the resumes of architects or the crowning achievements of the owner’s status in society but it would be a nice gesture towards honoring the Earth’s longevity and it’s hospitality to mankind.

In "Nature and The Idea of a Man-Made World," Norman Crowe espouses the relationship between human beings and their environment. His observations about the way we try to ‘recreate’ certain living or working spaces that fulfill a certain evolutionary desire for comfort, protection or privacy is so true. When Dr. Bump challenged the class to identify square or rectangular objects in nature, the results were slim. This got me thinking about the oppressive nature of our learning and learning environment. The most immediate thoughts that come to mind is that humans pursue this obsession with straight lines, squares, rectangles and circles as a way to create order and control over the chaos that nature can be. As Crowe indicates, "Our bodies provide us with a portable reference system to the environment around us, always in relation to the natural foursquare orientation of the human form." (216) This would help explain some of the fixation we have with visual spaces and shrines that are marvelously pristine in their orientation or streets and buildings that form grids or whatever. It is an attempt at perfection; a way to compensate for the deficiencies that plague our mortal existence. In modern times, these marvels of man-made proportion give us comfort in our sophistication or civilized manners. In contrast, early civilization must have viewed the Egyptian pyramids or Greek temples as intimidating and very abhorrent to nature’s unruly textures. Crowe also mentions Kant’s observations that "our geographical knowledge, and even our commonest knowledge of the position of places," is understood "by reference to the sides of our bodies." (216) This self-consciousness that helps us separate ourselves from all things in nature provides us the means to step back and ‘think out of the box.’ We can ‘imagine’ how a building would look in this particular open space or we could visualize how a man-made landscape or park could provide relief in a congested city block. Mankind is constantly at war with nature. Nature nearly always wins as hurricanes, mudslides and earthquakes take away our habitats and inventions. But, occasionally, we fire small shots over nature’s bow. Central Park in New York City is a natural park surrounded by a jungle of concrete and steel and some view this as human beings trying to exert control over the chaos of Nature. Many people seem to think our relationship with Nature to be a mutual Garden-Gardener type thing but I think it is more of a battle between Man and Nature. Take, for instance, the human custom of "vacuuming our floors" of dirt and debris. This concept must seem awful strange to Nature.

Discovery Learning puts you in the driver’s seat. A great example to make a comparison with would be learning to drive a car. You can spend hours studying the driver’s manual but can only actually appreciate and absorb the full experience by sitting behind the wheel and controlling the massive steel automobile. Not only do you have the responsibility of retaining the knowledge you’ve been storing in your brain but you also have the responsibility of putting that knowledge to good use. No amount of book knowledge can prepare you for the exhilaration of being projected through time and space by a force that you alone control. Your decisions could mean life or death for yourself as well as others. As the course packets reminds, "while you are participating, you are paying more attention." (37A) Interacting with other drivers on a busy street certainly focuses your attention to reality and the consequences of your personal actions. However, at the same time you are learning your driving skills, you have a certain amount of flexibility and creativity in the way you solve the problems of driving. You are taught the art of parallel parking in simple terms but can only appreciate the complexity when the pressure of actually performing under the scrutiny of more experienced drivers waiting to get around you. Your emotions and anxiety play a large role in determining your success at this new accomplishment and it is in your hands completely to control its outcome. Active Discovery Learning of any sort is much like this. The instructor can hold your hand and give you useful information but it is up to you to educate yourself and adapt good driving skills by practicing what you’ve learned and assimilating your learned ways to real time. This transition from virtual to reality is where the realization of personal control and self-learning occurs. Again, I’ve had instructor’s who assign projects with completely vague instructions and little to put a foothold on. These projects force the brain to scrape at the sides and bottoms for real knowledge learned and cause the "self" to expose itself. This is not mere parroting or regurgitation but actual problem-solving at its finest. Works of literature are very complex exhibitions of someone’s imagination and can have many meanings to different people. In fact, the author’s intention is most certainly unimportant once it is released on the rest of the world. It is up to the reader to determine its meanings and lessons in his or her own way. While reading a work of literature, you are expected to sit in the driver’s seat and navigate your emotions and deductions, make the right stops and turns and get to the place you need to be.