Looking With New Eyes

I should start by informing you that I am not a Kindle person.  I love technology:  I think my choice of master’s degree speaks for itself in that regard.  However, I am addicted to the visceral experience of reading a cherished book:  the whisper of turning pages, the smell of a thousand hands before mine cradling the cover, the vibrancy of illustrations leaping out of imagination.  My computer, my books, and I are locked in a sort of sordid love triangle between love for the old and the new.  What a joy it was to me to find that my graduate coursework, a symbol of embracing the future of media, has asked me to return to the great media of the past to find inspiration.    I had the great pleasure of viewing some of the most spectacular pieces of our history on the British Library’s website, whose “Turning the Pages” program shines by honoring our past through a utilization of the tools of today.  I reviewed three texts: two ancient holy works and one beloved childhood memory. 

My first glimpse into graphic design of the past came in the form of the Lisbon Bible.  Dating from 1482 AD, it incorporates much of what we consider the four principles of design: contrast, repetition, alignment, and proximity.  This classically illuminated Hebrew text features clear, delineated margins and outlines of the textual material highlighted by frontispieces.  Much of the commentary notations are written in what is known as micography, where minute text is used to create graphic designs.  This contrast of text highlights the differences in their purposes while adding visual interest.  The spectacular filigree work done in various colors and even gold work adds even more visual depth to the work.

Next I turned through the virtual pages of the Sultan Baybars’ Magnificent Qur’an, finished in 1306 AD, is an exquisitely lovely manuscript with breathtaking illustrations.  Even at such an early stage, the principles of design are evident in the embedding of text within the frontispiece work and the alignment of text on the pages.  The contrasting colors are used to guide the reader through pronunciation and syntax, and the vibrant illustrations contain repeating patterns which draw the eye. 

Finally, I reviewed one of my favorite stories from childhood, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, known in this original manuscript as “Alice’s Adventures Under Ground” by Lewis Carroll.  While not as vibrant in its style, this manuscript in my mind captures much of what I perceive as intuitive, sophisticated design.  Carroll’s ink illustrations give life to the images of his written words:  words and graphics collaborate, instead of compete as we so often see in modern print and digital media.  In the story of the mouse’s “tail”, Carroll uses a variation of the micography seen in the Lisbon text to create the “bends” and turns that Alice attempts, unsuccessfully, to follow.  Also, as with the other texts, despite having the text hand written, the margins on the text are justified to an astonishing degree of accuracy. 

Thanks to EDLD 5366 and the British Library, I am reminded again of the pure joy of a beautifully created text.  While the Library's application provides unbelievable access to otherwise untouchable artifacts of the past, I found myself craving the pleasure of turning those precious pages and feeling the draw of history.  I’m sorry, e-books:  I’ve fallen in love all over again.

Works Cited:

Alice’s Adventures Under Ground.  Written by Lewis Carroll, England, 1864

Lisbon Hebrew Bible. Calligraphy by Samuel ben Samuel Ibn Musa, Lisbon, Portugal, 1482

Sultan Baybars' Qur'an. Calligraphy by Muhammad ibn al-Wahid, illumination by Muhammad ibn Mubadir and Aydughdi ibn 'Abd Allah al-Badri, Cairo, 1304

A Case for the Unbalanced

There is a debate going on in my graduate school discussion board. I'm a strong proponent of debate, so this is thrilling to me. What leaves me much less than enthusiastic is the nature of the debate: a call for 'striking a balance' between the idea of 'value inculcation' and the 'marketplace of ideas'. I posted previously on this topic, only to find that I may have not stated my position as clearly I had previously thought. So to be perfectly clear: as unpopular as it may be, I do not subsribe to balance in this instance. I identify with one side of this debate much more strongly than the other. In his lecture, Dr. Michael Hopson outlines the idea of ‘value inculcation’: “To paraphrase Justice Black, students attend school to learn, not to teach. It is not the time or place for them to exercise their expression rights and to comment on issues of public concern or interest.” (personal communication, November 1, 2010) I find the idea that school is not the time or place for commentary on public concerns to be shockingly short-sighted. If our goal is to educate students in higher-order and critical thinking skills, how can we exclude exchange of ideas that might possibly even be uncomfortable for students? One of my colleagues mentions the idea of “bringing accountability to their [students’] ‘free’ speech.” (personal communication, November 3, 2010) This is the litmus test that elevates exchange of ideas, not just in a classroom, but in society.

Throughout the posts this week there is much talk of imparting students with ‘our values’. While I am not at all opposed to modeling to my students how I live my life through the lens of my own ethical compass, I shy from the idea that somehow I have a monopoly on appropriate “values”. Another colleague uses an expression in her post, “socially appropriate behavior”, which I believe to be an excellent guiding principle for educators. While there are societal norms that we all accept, norms that enable civil discourse, societal values can be a much murkier area, colored by political affiliation, embedded theology, and cultural mores. We can recognize that there are students who come into the schoolhouse doors with a woeful lack of experience in societal norms without making an assumption that, because their value systems do not reflect our own, they do not exist at all.