Dear Cohort,
I am sitting in the room in which I grew up, all packed and ready to go back to London again tomorrow. I hope that I can make it. It was a pleasure to meet everyone and I have a funny feeling that I’ll be seeing many of you again. I feel some professional and personal friendships have been forged, and more so than usually happens at events like this. Could this be down to Sharon’s judgement of people to attend the event? If it isn’t down to her judgement, it’s surely down to her excellent choice of location, and finger-on-the-pulse knowledge of her subject. So, thank you Sharon.
Today began, after a slight delay, with a trip to MOSI: Manchester’s Museum of Science and Industry. I used to go there as a child and again as an undergraduate. I remember crying at the sheer size and noise of the machines. I didn’t like them. They weren’t beautiful to me then. I remember my Nan telling me how she used to work in a factory with some of them. I didn’t think it was anything special at that time because there were many people showing similar children around telling similar tales. Only when visiting as an undergraduate and, again, as a postgraduate, did I notice how sublime these powerful machines were. The difference between this visit and the last, as I tried to communicate to Pauline Webb, was that last time I was a performing arts student and was looking at the performativity of the machines; what they afforded as objects, as bodies that interact with their environment and affect the individual. I suppose a kind of phenomenological sensibility. This time around, though, I’ve migrated disciplines and am more attuned to text and context, and to what the individual machine might offer to my understanding of literary texts of the times they are concerned with. There was a particular piece of ‘kit’ from 1712 – some kind of atmospheric pressure pump – that I didn’t know existed. These things were relatively abundant – if not necessarily quotidian – during their time. I think that this would colour the reading of any texts remotely related to or featuring technology. We’ll see about that when I next come to analyse a text.
Then there was John Ryland’s Library. And what a beautiful library it was, too. (Possibly) the oldest piece of a book of he New Testament was right there in front of our very eyes, as well as other treasures. We were shown some manuscripts consisting of not a small amount of Manchester pride. I learnt that vomit doesn’t feature as prominently in the History of Science as I thought it might…
Then before home, I bought another book on the History of Writing that looks fascinating and will have to find a place for. A few of us went for a cup of tea and pint of beer (in that order) after which I took the train home.
Now, alongside the written work, I have a quest to be a public-facing academic. I was once a performing arts student so should really think of ways in which to apply that prior knowledge to promote my new passion.
This week we have been truly spoilt. I am incredibly grateful to have this opportunity and deeply thank everyone who organised it, presented, and took part. I like being spoilt and think I could get used to it!
Paul William Craddock