Signs and Signifiers

what is semiotics and how can you be
SauSsure
?

not literature not
but
and
but SCIENCE

not sound not
but
and
but sound image, an imprint of sound, a psychological imprint

signifier signified by signified,, signified signified by signifier ==  sign not word not sword concept not concert
arbitrary schmarbitrary arboretum cerebellum( bcuz n e 1 kan yooz simbuls BUT the sign is divine.        

)une langue du parole. Да ладно.


Syntagms, feel my presence. Giving context to ascribe value.
Associations, wheel my absence. Faking connections bike ice-cream favors.

hence




THREE TWO ONE ANYONE ANYBODY ANYTHING SOMETHING EVERYTHING THINGS THINKS SINKS WINKS BLINKS BLINKING EYES SIGHT SOUND TOUCH  is determined by what it is not, until it becomes a sign.

Opposition, my dear Watson!

"Language is a system of pure values" or a sweet sheet of paper ::

sound
-------(linguistics)-------
                    thought


SCIENCE
science sounds good.

The Tale of Russian Formalism

Once upon a time, in a far-away land (where things made more sense than in Newhaven, Connecticut), there was born an idea, whose name was RUSSIAN FORMALISM. Russian Formalism was a curious child, and quite clever. She dearly loved to read, but often asked herself: “What is this material that I so love to absorb, this delectable form that I devour as I peruse my library?” Her fathers, Boris Eichenbaum and Roman Jakobson, did tell her: “This is what most people call Literature, my dear. It is a sort of science.”

“But what is it made of?” Asked Russian Formalism. “What is the formula and how many are the elements of such a science? Indeed, what is literariness?”

Thus began the young idea’s journey to explore the science of literature --- Not how to study it, but what it actually is. In her wild search, she set out looking for theories, rather than concrete definitions: Theories can evolve, adapt, and change to fit her material! A rather more exciting creature to hunt than a simple, idle definition, to be sure. (After all, “Science lives not by seeing truth, but by overcoming error.”)

As Russian Formalism broadened her field of research, she began to spread beyond all previous methodological limits to develop a very special science of literature, which in itself was a specific ordering of facts. Facts, of course, were her very favorite things, and she collected a great many over the course of her adventures.

That is not to say that her quest was an easy one! On the contrary, it seemed that every new step of her expedition brought great peril, and in fact she began having a peculiar sort of identity crisis.  In the beginning, she walked straight into the wild forest of Aesthetics, where she was lost for quite some time, and although she grew to like the place, she knew she had to move on to more navigable paths. She then met a great bard by the name of Potebnya the Symbolist, who tried to charm her with his poetry and song. He did have a most beautiful voice, but in the end, they parted ways: For our heroine could only focus on Form, while Potebnya was obsessed with symbols! In the end he had slandered her, and she narrowly escaped her doom when she realized that she missed the sweet songs of the bard, and came upon a new theory: “Why, what about sound? Sound is subservient to nothing!” What an invaluable fact to add to her collection. She began to think of rhythm and meter as linguistic components, rather than just frivolous distraction.

As Russian Formalism evolved, she learned many new things. She traveled to the seas Plot and Story, navigating the boundary between the two where the waters churned beneath her vessel. But she waited out the storm and was able to see clearly to the sea-bed beneath, wherein did lie the secret that Plot was really just the structure of Story! She witnessed the waters of the Story flowing through the currents of the Plot as the seas calmed under her steady, scientific gaze. This taught her that the most important part of her science would be to focus on a single device, which she could apply to innumerable examples of literature!

Thoroughly satisfied with the fact that there was no concrete answer to her question, Russian Formalism returned home to her fathers. Her homecoming was a joyous occasion, and they lived together in peace, happiness, and order until their unfortunate demise. The great Villain, Trotsky, who had plagued them for years, released his evil decree of “Literature and Revolution,” which left the poor family nameless and destitute. Our poor heroine, Russian Formalism, was tragically and fatally wounded in the attack. As she lay on her deathbed, her fathers weeping above her, she assured them of this: Though she may die, her journey would never end.

Thus concludes the tale of Russian Formalism.

Higher Education in Russia, Pt. 2 (Variations on a theme)

So, in regard to my previous Higher Education post, I happened to come across a fabulous set of data giving the percentage of people over the age of 25 who hold a higher degree of some kind in 132 different countries. Guess who comes in first? There's no competition --- it's Russia.

With over 60% of the 25-and-over population holding a higher degree, it looks almost like Russia is handing out college degrees like candy (especially when compare to the second- and third-place countries in this race, Belarus and Canada, having significantly lower stats of 47.7% and 50.2%, respectively).

If you bothered to check out that graph that I'm referencing, you could see that the United States comes in at 40.7%, which looks pretty mediocre, depending on how you want to interpret all of this data: Other than as a straight-up, Higher-Education pissing contest (a perfectly internet-worthy application of these stats), you can defend these numbers with research to better understand the culture of Higher Education in any one of these countries. I'm going to write about the cultural implications that contribute to this, but you know, since we are on the internet, I'll go ahead and say it: Russia wins!

But seriously, how and why does Russia hold the gold in this competition, especially by so great a margin? Well, I think part of it relates to my previous post explaining the importance of higher education to a Russian's individual identity: When the question "Who are you?" is culturally equivalent to asking about someone's education, it makes sense that over half the population would want to earn a higher degree.

It is definitely worth noting that, as defined for  this study, earning a higher degree means "completion of postsecondary education that is theoretically based and prepares students to gain entry into advanced research programs or high-skilled professions, or that provides participants with a labor-market qualification in an occupation or trade." Thus, the high percentage might also be accredited to the post-soviet rollover of higher education programs and institutions in specific trades, for which other countries may not have degree programs.

Obligatory military service is another game-changer in this race: All Russian young men between the ages of 18-27 are required to serve in the military for at least one year. However, since there is little-to-no patrioic connection with this obligatory service, and especially due to reports of widespread,violent hazing in the Russian military, many young men choose to enroll in university to postpone their service. Another option, if you aren't medically excused from service, is to offer a bribe, but that's much more expensive than paying for a college education.

In fact, University is usually free for students in Russia, depending on their grades and exam scores. There are usually a certain number of "Free" spots in any given program, which are awarded to the best applicants, but others can choose to enroll as paying students. Each university has a different going rate, but I got the impression that it could cost anywhere from $500 - $5,000 USD per year to enroll as a paying student (I paid $1,000 for a year in university as a foreign student in Irkustk, FYI).

So, there you have it folks, Higher Education in Russia: Axiomatic, Applicable, Attractive, and Accessible. Does that make Russians are more well-educated? Not necessarily, but it sure leads to some impressive numbers.

Beginnings in Literary Theory

I have a terrible confession to make: I have never studied literature.

Ok, I know I am a graduate student in a languages and literatures department, but I've never really touched the stuff. Ready for confession number two? I've never really studied Philosophy, either. Imagine my dismay when Paul Fry told me that Literary Theory is kind of like Philosophy --- "Oh really? Great. That helps me a lot, Paul."

In reading the first two chapters of Professor Fry's Lecture series on Literary Theory, I confirmed my belief that I am SO not ready for this. But you know what? I don't think I'm the only one who feels this way... So, in case any of you out there feel like I do, then, you know, "this one's for you" as they say.

Since I'm already confessing, I think I should explain that I didn't really spend much time with Academia, and our relationship never really took-off. I got my BA in three years, I graduated in 2011, and I got the hell out of Dodge. Since that time, I haven't been able to stay in one place for more than a few months. I travel, I teach, I work, I sing, I eat great food, and I speak a lot of Russian because it makes me happy.

So, back to Fry --- I was thankful at first that Fry was going to break everything down for me (baby steps, Sarah, you can do this): First of all what is Literature? Great question! ...Too bad there isn't really an answer, since it all basically came down to "Literature is whatever your community thinks it is." Ok, Fry, I like that --- we're keeping an open mind as to what literature can be. That's chill.

Step #2: Define Theory. Theory? Oh yeah, that's a lot like... practice. Well, depending on how you look at it. It could be practice, but it doesn't have to have an application, so it's basically just speculation. And not only that, it is LIMITLESS speculation --- you can apply literary theory to ANY literature: Children's books? Hell yeah, Fry gets me.

I also get to be a skeptic, Fry tells me, which I love to hear --- because honestly, I've always thought of both literary theory and criticism as a whole lot of B.S. (Academic B.S., mind you --- I hold it in high regard!) and I'm happy that Fry seems to understand this opinion as well. Aparently this skepticism makes literary theory different from philosophy, but I have to disagree there --- maybe that's because my definition of literature is broader than Fry's (He is the Author, but as he mentions in the second chapter, that doesn't necessarily mean I am going to take him as an authority. Did I get that right? Oh boy...)

The following pages define more terms, like "introduction" and "reader," as Fry continues to pull more philosophers and writers out of their graves to teach me that Literary theory is a big fat mess, that history has changed the way we view and teach theory, and that there a bunch of different schools that I can subscribe to: Skeptics, see Freud! My issue is that I don't know a lick about Freud, or Nietzche, or Marx or Cervantes orKantorDescartesorFoucault (though I can pronounce their names, do I get a cookie for that?).

I got to the end of chapter two and thought to myself: "Well. There's my introduction..." but after reading it a second time (and a third, and a fourth), I decided for myself that an introduction isn't supposed to make perfect sense. Fry himself reassured me when he said, at the end of his second lecture, "So much then for those introductory lectures, which have touched lightly on key topics that we'll keep circling back to."

...You mean we're gonna talk about this in more detail later, so that I can get a better understanding of what the heck is going on? Aw, shucks --- Thanks, Fry.

Creating a Market for Higher Education in Russia

As an American living in Russia, there was one question that frustrated me more than any other: “Кто вы по образованию?” // “What do you do?” It’s a seemingly harmless inquiry, and a normal thing to ask of someone you have just met, but the question directly translated means something more along the lines of “What were you TRAINED to do?” (literally, “Who are you, by education?”). As a 20-something graduate of a private liberal-arts college in the United States, it was nearly impossible to answer.

For the academic year of 2012-2013, I was awarded Fulbright English Teaching Assistantship in the Department of American Studies at Irkutsk State Linguistic University. It seemed logical to label myself as a language teacher, but even with two years of teaching experience, I couldn't be taken seriously since I did not earn a degree in language pedagogy. Arguments against liberal arts aside, The Russian System of Higher Education has been lagging behind the West in that until 2010, all students entering University enrolled in what is called a “Specialist” degree program, for which they studied for five years and had little to no flexibility in their class schedules. If a student enrolls in a University for a Specialist degree in Accounting, for instance, chances are that every class they take will be fixed, and directly related to the profession of accounting. The specialist degree was what gave you the license to work in that field: Therefore, whoever you were "by education" was, theoretically, the only professional thing you could really do --- and thus became a huge part of one's identity.

This structure was preserved from the Soviet Union, and was meant to produce a specific number of professionals to fulfill the social need in each field. When the Soviet Union collapsed, however, universities across Russia doubled their enrollment as they began accepting paying students. Suddenly everyone wanted to become a “Specialist” while the demand for professionals couldn’t keep up. Many people I met in Russia were trained as psychologists, sociologists, or even medical doctors, and have ended up in service positions, or simply unemployed --- but they all still identified themselves according to their Specialist degree.

In a recent article posted by Times Higher Education, the Russian shift to the more universal 4-year B.A. + 2-year M.A. structure is praised as a step in the right direction, although admittedly latecoming. Similar reforms have succeeded in China, which instituted its changes in the early '90s. Russia hopes to follow by their example and attract a greater foreign student body, essentially turning Higher Education into a business that can pull revenue into Russian HEIs for improving their programs and thus increasing their international rankings, which is their overarching goal:

"Only in 2012 did the Russian government pledge to resolve this issue, pledging to ensure that five Russian universities are ranked in the top 100 in the world by 2020." - Times Higher Education

The goal is ambitious, but not unattainable. Time will tell whether through the streamlining of higher education and reorganization of professional programs offered in Russian universities can attract foreign investment to what could now be considered a Market of Higher Education.