Done

It's 5.50 in the morning and the sounds of the City that never sleeps but always dreams in fits and starts have kept me awake since I tried to go to bed several hours ago. Another thing that's been keeping me up -- the caffeine from the great diner we discovered (it had great Eggs Florentine with a really interesting sauce -- pretty fancy for a diner, I think ...) and too many cups of Chinese tea from XO in Chinatown. And of course, the last thing that's keeping me awake is all the adrenaline that's still coursing through my body from the Oral Exams that took place yesterday.

For the first time in my life, I was actually overdressed for an occasion. I've actually seen candidates and examiners emerge from the 'thesis' room (so named because every thesis that has been written under the auspices of the English program at the CUNY GC lines its walls, therefore making it a significant but intimidating venue for the exam -- as my Committee Chair put it, "We could have the exam in my office but we'll do it here so that you'll REALLY remember this room ...") decked out in suits and other formal apparel. But all three examiners were rather casually dressed which was a good sign, I suppose.

So we had "intellectual conversation" for about two hours, with my Committee asking me a wide ranging series of questions about the theoretical, thematic, stylistic, and of course, idiosyncratic elements of the books that I've read over the past few months. Anyway -- I thought it was a very fulfilling experience and I was really tired after the whole affair. By the time my third examiner started asking the questions, I was barely cognizant of what I was saying. Anyway, of the several "low-lights" in the exam, I remember three in particular ( since the ordeal is over, I guess I should say "remember three rather fondly"):

1. This was on my Old English / Middle English Romance / Arthurian list, which was second in questioning order. The response started out fine. I mentioned "Genesis B" as a particularly interesting text because it depicts, in ways that are pretty startling for an early work, Satan in a somewhat sympathetic light (and hence the theory that Milton may have encountered this work). After discussing the way the feudal relationship marks out Satan's character and motivations and his longing to return to his former glory, the questions turned to the way the temptation itself worked. And immediately I knew that I would be in trouble in one of two questions because my mind drew a blank as to how the poem embellishes the temptation scenes. All I could recall was that the demonic tempter poses as a messenger of God to Adam, adopting the role of the servant loyal to a liege lord. What escaped my memory was the fact that Adam rejects the offer because there's not 'written' proof of his status as vassal and that Eve succumbs because the demon entices her with a vision of what acceding would bring (medieval writers had a rich imagination when it came to fleshing out the word of God). I was reduced to an apologetic, "I'm sorry, I really can't remember the specifics ..."

2. The next difficult moment occurred on a question on my more 'theoretical' list, the psychoanalytical material. Essentially, the question was about how theorists apart from Lacan take up the vexed question of how the ego fits into a post-Freudian re-reading of things. Anyway, I launched into a tentative spiel (trying to sound confident but obviously betraying my befuddlement at how to approach the question) about how Luce Irigary's work seems to be taking the Freudian text itself as a problematic ego that ends up suffering different contradictions and resistances when she 'analyzes' it as a feminist, which drew the response, "That's interesting, but I was thinking more about Teresa ...." And then it clicked in my mind, ah yes, Teresa Brennan and her notion of the age of the ego ... Ah well ...

3. When opening his section on the third and final part of the exam, my Comm Chair candidly said that despite his section being the theoretical bit, he would endeavor to end the section by weaving in a question on Langland (the medieval writer of Piers Plowman), "who hasn't yet been mentioned today". And he made good on his promise by closing the exam with a question of how the family is embodied by the text. The difficult thing here is that there aren't that many explicit references to family in the text. I managed to point out how the autobiographical sections added to the C-text as well as a brief allegorical drama involving the Soul in the castle of the Flesh, 'use' the family in literal as well as didactic ways. At the back of my mind I was going to say something about the four daughters of God (Truth, Justice, Mercy, Peace) who make an appearance at the harrowing of Hell but I figured it was 1. too conventional and 2. not quite the Thing that the question was looking for. Of course, my Prof brilliantly elaborated on my answer to point out that one of the most striking moments (unfortunately it didn't strike me) of how the family is embodied by the text is in the description of Piers Plowman, his wife and his oddly (and extravagantly) named children. Unlike the two earlier moments of absolutely drawing a blank and immediate recognition, this moment had my memory gurgling with the faint impression that, yeah, I vaguely recalled that ... he's right.

Anyway, there were several highlights as well, but my overall experience of the thing was that it was really effective as an initiatory rite into the pursuits and conversations that are supposed to consume the rest of my academic and intellectual life. The fact that I'm expected to carry out conversations at the same level of erudition and eloquence as my examiners remains a pretty daunting prospect. I'm still amazed at how exhausted I was after the two hours, not so much intellectually but physically as well: I was ready to zone out for the rest of the evening (but obviously haven't managed to). Anyway, I ended up passing the exam (with distinction, thanks to the generosity of my Committee) and am now formally advanced to candidacy. Or, to use one of the most dreaded acronyms of grad school, I'm now ABD: All But Dissertation.

I'm going to kick back for a few days, watch the U.S. Open (on TV), eat real food in New York, begin reading "Anna Karenina", and of course, meet with my dissertation Sup on Monday to discuss my plans for the dissertation.