Blogging as a Social — and Dialectical — Medium

I’ve been maintaining this blog for a few weeks now. I’m delighted that I have a few followers already, and it’s nice to have even a modest number of likes and views on some of my posts. I’ve even received some very encouraging feedback from an experienced blogger after I had commented on a post on that writer’s own blog. It’s great to know that the things I’m writing here are interesting to some people — especially to other people who also write blogs of their own.

I’m sure every person who starts a blog dreams of being read by millions of people all over the world. I guess on some level, I do, too. But right now, I’m okay with the fact that the group of people who read my blog is small at first. I want to think of my readers as being part of a community, and starting out small gives things a more intimate feel. Now of course, I may be jumping the gun a bit with the whole “community” thing. My blog has a ways to go before it will feel like a comfortable spot for a community. As of this post, I haven’t settled on a nice header image or a snappy gravatar yet. It may be a while before I get around to setting up a blogroll. I’m aware that there are lots of things I could be doing to encourage more readership, more comments, more interaction. I’ll get there, eventually, but I learn these things slowly, and it will take some effort for me to incorporate them into my blogging routine, as opposed to the writing, which comes much more naturally.

One thing that gives me hope that I will eventually be able to take more advantage of the social aspect of blogging is the fact that WordPress, the blogging platform I’ve chosen, uses many social-media strategies to build and maintain a community of bloggers. I wasn’t really expecting this when I decided to start a blog, because I was focused on what I wanted to say, and how I could best say it. But I suppose, in hindsight, that it’s a pretty obvious move. Social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter generate huge amounts of traffic by encouraging interaction between users, so it’s no surprise that a blogging platform would use many of the same strategies — suggesting new blogs for you to follow based on your previous activities, creating forums where bloggers can meet and help each other, arranging notifications and “new post” feeds in the same way that social media sites do, and so on.

I’m clearly late to the party as far as all of this is concerned. No sooner had I thought up the phrase “blogging as social media” than I put it into a search engine and turned up numerous results that either used the exact same phrase, or made a similar point. Still, even though it’s not a new point, I think it’s worth dwelling on the social, interactive aspect of blogging. It’s especially interesting to me to think about how blogging can be a dialectical medium as well as a rhetorical one.

Of course, when I use the word “dialectic,” readers who are familiar with the term may imagine different things. Some of the most important thinkers who used the term — say, Plato, Aristotle, the Scholastic philosophers of the Middle Ages, and G. W. F. Hegel — each had their own take on what “dialectic” means. Basically, however, the word “dialectic” comes from an ancient Greek word that means “to converse,” “to talk with.” Most broadly, dialectic emphasizes the interactive nature of communication. When you talk to someone, usually you imagine that that person can also talk to you. Even if you’re arguing with someone, a dialectical approach reminds you that each participant in a conversation has their own point of view, and that exchanging those perspectives and learning about where your views differ can be as important as simply convincing the other person to agree with you. (In the classical tradition of western thought, convincing or persuading others to agree with you is typically considered to fall under the purview of rhetoric, rather than dialectic, though perhaps the boundary between the two isn’t as rigid or clear-cut as this distinction seems to imply.)

Bloggers are sometimes depicted in an unflattering way as self-obsessed narcissists who love to get on their soapboxes and broadcast their points of view to a society that has more important things to worry about. And it’s true that the temptation to make a blog “all about me, me, me” is always there. Those of us who like to write, or who engage in other creative outlets, place great value on self-expression. At the same time, it’s helpful to be reminded of the social, interactive aspects of blogging. Reminding me that I’m not just a writer with something to say, but that my blog has readers who are interested in what I say, and who have their own perspectives on what I say, and who sometimes might even share those perspectives with me — all of that is valuable along with self-expression.

I think a lot about the balance between communication and expression when I’m considering what topics to write about. I have strong political views on certain topics, for example, and so I sometimes feel the temptation to make a post ranting about some political topic or other. But then I consider that maybe the internet already has enough of those kinds of rants, and that maybe it would be better to approach the topic in a less heated way. Respecting other peoples’ points of view isn’t always easy, especially when they disagree with you about a topic you feel strongly about. The internet makes it very easy for us to retreat into our corners and fragment ourselves into self-selected groups where we know that everybody already agrees with us. It also makes it easy to hide behind a screen of anonymity and hurl insults and abuse at people because they have different views (or sometimes because of no reason at all).

To my mind, these well-known negative aspects of the internet give us all the more reason to do everything we can to maintain a dialectical approach to what we do. For me, that means reminding myself that having a blog is not just about me having something to say (although that is important). It’s also about being part of a community of people who each have their own points of view, and who write blog posts because they are interested in exchanging those points of view with others. And if people outside the WordPress blogging community are also interested in what we say, so much the better. So I’m grateful to be part of a community of people who write about their points of view. My place in that community is small for now, but that’s okay; it gives me a stable foundation to build on. To those who are already reading my blog: thanks. A blog is written not just to say something, but to be read, to connect with others. Having actual readers is the best reminder of that principle.


Montaigne on the Quest after Truth

Agitation and the chase are properly our quarry; we are not excusable if we conduct it badly and irrelevantly; to fail in the catch is another thing. For we are born to quest after truth; to possess it belongs to a greater power.

Essays III.8 (“Of the Art of Discussion”), translated by Donald Frame

The Creativity of Wandering Minds

NPR’s All Things Considered ran a story on Monday about how smartphones might make it harder to be bored, and how that might not necessarily be a good thing, since boredom may be an unexpected cause of creativity. What particularly interested me in the story was a quotation from Sandi Mann, who was cited as a “U.K. psychologist.” Mann suggests that boredom induces the mind to seek stimulation. When we’re bored, she says,

We might go off in our heads to try and find that stimulation by our minds wandering, daydreaming and you start thinking a little bit beyond the conscious, a little bit in the subconscious which allows sort of different connections to take place[.]

I’ve heard about similar research (though unfortunately I can’t remember the source at the moment) suggesting that engaging in a routine or repetitive task frees the unconscious mind to concentrate on drawing new connections between ideas, which in turn leads to innovative or “creative” thoughts. Whether it’s through boredom, as Mann suggests, or through routine activity, to me the effect is the same: allowing the mind to let go of a singular conscious focus often helps the creative process, instead of hindering it.

I would imagine that many people who do “creative” activities (such as art, or writing, or graphic design, or composing music) know this phenomenon through personal experience. It still makes me chuckle sometimes that ideas for something to write about often come to me when I’m taking a shower, even though it’s happened to me for years. And part of the reason why I’ve decided to make this blog about an open variety of topics is that I’ve learned to trust the part of myself that tends to stray from being focused. I’m confident now that letting go of that focus, when the time and circumstances are right, can lead to beneficial insights. As the quotation from Mann suggests, letting your mind “wander” allows the subconscious or unconscious part of your mind to think in ways that you normally might not when your conscious reasoning is in control. In a similar way, I’d like to think that a blog that wanders from topic to topic can be as interesting as one that is all about a particular chosen subject. (The mechanics of wandering blogs are not exactly the same as those of wandering minds, of course, but I think the analogy still holds up fairly well.)

It is fascinating, though, to watch scientists and researchers explore these aspects of the mind that we tend to think of as non-rational. The “unconscious” part of the mind would seem to be very difficult to study through empirical science, since by definition it operates “behind the scenes,” so to speak, away from our conscious powers of reasoning and observation. And studies like these always raise the question of what kind of thinking counts as “creative” or “innovative” or “original” from a scientific point of view. Still, it’s interesting to have another perspective on the kind of thought processes that drive creativity.

Classical Prose Miscellanies and Modern Blogs

When I was preparing to start a blog, I thought for some time about a possible theme. I was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of writing a blog that was like a personal diary, or a blog that was about any random thing that happened to me at a given moment. Of course, there are plenty of blogs like those out there, but they’re just not for me. Some very successful blogs focus on a specific theme or subject matter. However, I am interested in too many things to be able to restrict a personal blog to just one theme, even if I defined that theme really broadly. So I needed a way to turn this trait of mine to my own advantage, to make it work for me rather than against me.

In the course of doing some research in graduate school, I discovered that a number of ancient Greek and Latin authors had written prose works that deliberately avoided set themes or systematic organization. One instructive example is Aulus Gellius’s Noctes Atticae. The title of this work, which can be translated as “Attic Nights” or “Nights in Attica,” reflects the fact that the work was begun as a way of passing the time on long winter nights while Gellius resided in Attica, the region around Athens, Greece. In the preface to this work, Gellius explains his rationale for assembling writings on various subjects. I quote from the Loeb translation of J.C. Rolfe (1927), available in an online transcription by Bill Thayer at LacusCurtius:

[I]n the arrangement of my material I have adopted the same haphazard order that I had previously followed in collecting it. For whenever I had taken in hand any Greek or Latin book, or had heard anything worth remembering, I used to jot down whatever took my fancy, of any and every kind, without any definite plan or order, and such notes I would lay away as an aid to my memory, like a kind of literary storehouse, so that when the need arose of a word or a subject which I chanced for the moment to have forgotten, and the books from which I had taken it were not at hand, I could readily find and produce it. It therefore follows, that in these notes there is the same variety of subject that there was in those former brief jottings which I had made without order or arrangement, as the fruit of instruction or reading in various lines.

The whole point of this kind of writing, in other words, is not only to discuss a wide variety of topics, but also to embody that variety in the writing’s organization (or lack thereof). The absence of a consistent theme and the lack of clear or “logical” organization are usually considered to be marks of bad writing, but a prose miscellany is intentionally written to turn these criteria on their heads, making virtues out of what normally would be considered to be defects. Although only a few examples of these kinds of works have survived from the ancient world more or less intact, Gellius’s preface (once again in Rolfe’s translation) mentions many others that had been written by his time:

…some called their books “The Muses,” others “Woods”, one used the title “Athena’s Mantle”, another “The Horn of Amaltheia,” still another “Honeycomb,” several “Meads,” one “Fruits of my Reading,” another “Gleanings from Early Writers,” another “The Nosegay,” still another “Discoveries.” Some have used the name “Torches,” others “Tapestry,” others “Repertory,” others “Helicon,” “Problems,” “Handbooks” and “Daggers.” One man called his book “Memorabilia,” one “Principia,” one “Incidentals,” another “Instructions.” Other titles are “Natural History,” “Universal History,” “The Field,” “The Fruit-basket,” or “Topics.” Many have termed their notes “Miscellanies,” some “Moral Epistles,” “Questions in Epistolary Form,” or “Miscellaneous Queries,” and there are some other titles that are exceedingly witty and redolent of extreme refinement.

The use of the word “history” in some of these titles might seem strange; how can a deliberately disorganized work that has no consistent theme properly be called a “history”? It helps to remember, though, that the ancient Greek word ἱστορία (historia) originally meant “inquiry” or “knowledge learned by inquiry,” and only later came to be used in the sense that we are familiar with today–“a narrative or account of inquiries into events that happened in the past.”

A work with a similar title, written well after Gellius’s time, is the Varia Historia. Its author, Claudius Aelian, was a Roman sophist from the town of Praeneste, but like many literate and cultured Romans of his era, he enjoyed dabbling in Greek prose composition. (Even the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius famously wrote his philosophical Meditations in Greek.) In its original language, Aelian’s prose miscellany is entitled Ποικίλη Ἱστορία (Poikile Historia). The first word in this phrase, poikile, literally means “many-colored” or “variegated.” (In the Septuagint, the ancient Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, this same word is used in Genesis 37:3 to describe Joseph’s coat, and thus the King James Bible, influenced by the Septuagint, refers to Joseph’s coat “of many colours.”) So Aelian uses the phrase Poikile Historia to mean a “many-colored history,” a metaphor for a series of inquiries on various topics. This work was translated into Latin during the Renaissance, and as a result, it became customary among scholars to refer to the work by a Latin translation of the title, Varia Historia.

The seventeenth-century scholar and poet Thomas Stanley translated the Poikile Historia into English in 1665, under the title Various History, and James Eason has transcribed an online version of Stanley’s translation. By perusing some of the chapter headings, we can get an idea of the range of topics that Aelian writes about: “How the Cretan Goats cure themselves when shot”; “Of some persons extraordinarily foolish”; “Of some who have been harmed by Laws, which they themselves made”; “Of Clinias and of Achilles, who used to repress anger by Musick”; “That they are ridiculous who think highly of themselves because of their Parents.” (Stanley’s English sounds somewhat old-fashioned to us in the twenty-first century, but this outcome is actually rather appropriate for reading Aelian, who wrote Greek in a deliberately archaic style.) Sometimes Aelian leaps from topic to topic with no sense of connection, but at other times he uses adjacent sections of his work to bring together and discuss different examples of the same phenomenon. For example, the third book of the Poikile Historia includes four sections in a row having to do with famous ancient persons who stoically endured the tragic deaths of their children, and three sections in a row on drunkenness among various ancient peoples. By forsaking systematic organization, prose miscellanies can sometimes hit upon connections between topics that might not always be possible or apparent in a highly organized treatise.

Now of course, what we modern folk do with our blogs is not exactly the same; blogging is based on a very different technology, and it allows for a whole new level of interaction with readers than was possible for these ancient authors. But when I glance at chapters from the Noctes Atticae, or the Varia Historia, their methods sometimes seem similar to those employed by many blogs: take a quote, or an anecdote, or a passage from some source, and expand on it with your own thoughts, or sometimes just present the quote or anecdote or passage by itself without further comment, if that is enough to interest readers. And I particularly admire these works for embracing variety instead of treating their inherent lack of focus as some kind of defect. Sometimes the connections between topics, or the movement from one to another, is more interesting than following a single theme all the way to its logical conclusion, and this can be true for blogs as well as for ancient texts. And so my blog, A Various History, continues a long tradition of intentionally miscellaneous writing. Certainly there are many blogs out there that do more or less the same thing that I plan to do, and that don’t require classical precedents, but I like the idea of adapting an ancient form of literature to a modern, innovative mode of communication. I guess I’m just pretentious that way!

A New Year, A New Blog

Happy New Year 2015! This blog is broadly set in the tradition of the classical prose miscellany, a genre of writing that emphasizes variety of subject matter instead of more fixed or focused themes. Hence, the writings in this blog will explore a wide variety of topics. (The title, A Various History, takes its inspiration from Claudius Aelian’s Varia Historia, written during the third century A.D.) More details on the genre of classical prose miscellany, and the precedents it offers for modern blogging, in future posts.