Andrew Throdahl
ENAM 170 Final Reflection and Grade Proposal
While procrastinating on some paper this week I wondered whether speed is a
component to creativity. My piano teacher tells me that I learn things relatively quickly,
and in fact I learn music faster than she imagines — usually a few minutes before my
lesson. Today I wondered, procrastinating, whether procrastination is a blessing, and
creation can only happen when rushed. I know that I write as quickly as I learn piano
music because I cannot remember what it was I had written the following day. This has
been my struggle in ENAM 170.
I cannot help thinking of calligraphers. The ones I am thinking of contemplate
some character for hours before hastily executing a few elegant haiku strokes. How could
writers make the revision process retroactive, like a calligrapher? It would require
enormous mental capacity, time, and aspirin.
The greatest struggle of the class was becoming comfortable around each other.
Workshops seemed to lack sincere criticism, if there was any criticism at all. It was only
in the final weeks, after I had sensed that no one was telling me what they truly felt about
a disappointing poem I had written, that I felt comfortable telling someone their piece
deflated after the opening line (which could have been intentional). This was a
breakthrough that ended in backlash. We splattered each other with cathartic criticisms.
No amount of tossing and turning could make publishing one’s work bearable. In
ENAM 170, although it was a relatively large class, a standard of evaluation quickly
developed in my mind. This standard can be blamed for my letting certain awkward
passages or lazy soundscapes go unscathed in the revision process. But had you told us
our works were to be published in a widely circulated literary review, and would be
scrutinized by vicious critics, my writing process would have ended in oblivion.
I have learned that revision is creative purgatory, and “finished” should indeed be
in salty quotations. There is no end to revision, except for deserters. I developed a
standard of evaluation for ENAM 170 that in turn gauged when exactly I should quit
revision. Now I pose the question: “What is my independent standard of evaluation?” I
might later ask, hesitantly, what a professional standard of evaluation is, and if there is
any difference.
I spent more time working on certain projects in this course than on my
independent project in music. That said, if it had not been for my creative revelations —
which weren’t very special, but meaningful all the same — in ENAM 170, I would not
have “finished” my composition. This class has been invaluable to me. It has given me
both confidence and the ability to self-criticize. But most of all, and I write this with
utmost sincerity, it has taught me how to read, and the more I read the more I need to
write.
You’re right, A grade (A being the operative letter) in this class does seem
arbitrary. After reviewing the grade guidelines formed by my classmates, I would grade
my works with high marks, since I surprised myself and identified my failures. I
recognize that I was not as active on the blog as you might have wished, and sometimes
was reticent in discussion. Might I suggest that I grade my work an A, because I am
proud, and you can grade me for participation as you see appropriate?