In 2001 Alberta Views published six issues. The issue I chose to read was the March/April issue that focused on education. On the cover was a picture of a woman walking in front of a large yellow building. As a U of A student I know this building to be the Butterdome. With a cover line like: “Education to What End?” I think this is rather fitting. This issue was interesting to me, in part because I am a student and also because I know it to be a contentious topic in Alberta.
Therefore, I easily gravitated towards the satirical fiction piece written by Heery Lynn about university life and politics. Lynn was an associate professor of Drama at the U of C so I think he would know what he is talking about. As a not-yet graduated student, I have spent my share of time on campus and sometimes have been struck with the ridiculousness of it all. Even so, if I have interpreted the short fiction correctly, the real troubles happen not with the students but at the faculty level. There seems to be a never-ending struggle to ensure proper funding and it seems as though everyone is fighting tooth and nail for any share of it they can scrounge.
Lynn’s “Notes for a Novel on Future University Life” delves into the university culture. Even with the story’s sarcastic tone and Lynn’s biting observations, I felt like this “fantasia” wasn’t that fantastic. The struggles described in the short fiction such as rivalry between tenured professors and sessional instructors is not that far from the truth. In my second year of university I had a mightily peeved sessional instructor who had not been given any courses for the following semester because he was “just a sessional.” He spent a good portion of that day’s lecture complaining about tenured professors. To me it just sounded like a rant. As a student, I always enjoyed the lectures from the more seasoned professors rather than the brand new ones; there was more experience and insight. In my experience, they also tended to mark fairer and were less defensive about their views—after years of teaching they realized a student’s opinions weren’t a personal attack. The young professors don’t always grasp that. However, even with the extra insight that the tenured professors have I would hardly advise cryogenic freezing.
Another thing that really struck a cord with me about Lynn’s story is his treatment of electronic libraries. In 2001 this may have seemed like a ridiculous assumption. Surely, it would never happen. Fast-forward 10 years and almost everyone has access to a computer and through it a myriad of different books and articles. Perhaps this is also a reflection of how fast technology changes. Ten years ago no on knew what a blog was. Now every person and their dog are documenting every minute of the day. (It’s not like I am any different.) Additionally, more and more people are converting to digital media such as e-readers. Since 2001 information has become so accessible that Lynn’s sarcastic comments about the dispersion of knowledge are not only eerily observant but seem almost clairvoyant. But, perhaps the current rate of knowledge transmission isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
The third point that I related to from Lynn’s short story was the subtly communicated rivalry between the Arts and the Science faculties. As an Arts student it was always very clear that the Science students somehow seemed more respected. They have the newer buildings—including heated door handles for those pesky Alberta winters. The Arts students always seem to be stuck in a corner, cloistered away. But one thing that stops me from being truly bitter is knowing that I am going to come away with a little less debt. It is one thing that is rarely considered but an Arts degree costs less than a science degree. And I think this is the way it should be.
As an Arts student, I don’t have labs that require expensive equipment or odd substances to experiment with. I need books and access to cultural knowledge (and with electronic access to libraries around the world I am set). So I shouldn’t have to pay for someone else’s education. When my science student friends complain about their $7,000 tuition for one year, I can be happy that I’ll only be paying $5,000 for skills I don’t need a fancy machine to use. They can keep their heated door handles; I have more interesting things to ponder—like what does it mean to have cold hands. I feel as though Lynn’s satire missed this aspect.
But maybe Lynn didn’t address the issue of tuition because he was more concentrated on other matters. There is a large focus on bureaucracy and how the system doesn’t really serve any one. With too many people to please no one is being pleased. Lynn writes, “despite the co-operative posture the University has at all times tried to maintain, the Provincial Government nevertheless continually berates the University for its perceived inefficiency.”
Overall Lynn’s short fiction is very tongue and cheek about universities in this province. He has some interesting insights into how universities work and examines many of the stereotypes about higher education. From staff at war to blatant favoritism with faculties, this story made me wonder when and how all of these musings and jests became normal. Part of what I found amusing about “Notes for a Novel on Future University Life” was how relevant it was. I would be interested to know if he received inspiration from one institution in particular. There are so many choices in Alberta when it comes to post-secondary education that I wonder if this way meant as a “blanket” reaction or a more targeted one. Perhaps Lynn’s years at the U of C impacted his portrayal of educational institutions in his short story.
Heery Lynn is now a Senior Instructor in the Drama department at the University of Calgary. I wonder if his opinions have changed since he wrote this story. A common theme it appears in my posts is change, or lack there of. People always say that things are no different than they were 500 years ago—we just have plumbing and electricity. In some ways that’s quite disheartening. So no matter how hard we try and change things, people are fundamentally stuck in a never-ending pattern. We may progress in terms of research and technology but we don’t often change sociologically. I guess it all boils down to your perspective of humanity. If you believe people are genuinely good, you remain hopeful. If you believe people are constantly struggling to subdue their villainous nature, you are not. Based on Lynn’s short story and his portrayal of people, I would say people are incredibly corrupt, always scheming and underhanded. That is a pretty bleak outlook for Albertans. I prefer to think they mean well and mess up a lot.
Sincerely,
Nicole (The Intern)
To read my previous blog posts, as well as others on the site, click here.
For information on the Twitter Campaign and for the official rules click here.
To read the issue mentioned in this article, click here.
To read the issue featured in my next blog, click here.
In 2001 Alberta Views published six issues. The issue I chose to read was the March/April issue that focused on education. On the cover was a picture of a woman walking in front of a large yellow building. As a U of A student I know this building to be the Butterdome. With a cover line like: “Education to What End?” I think this is rather fitting. This issue was interesting to me, in part because I am a student and also because I know it to be a contentious topic in Alberta.
Therefore, I easily gravitated towards the satirical fiction piece written by Heery Lynn about university life and politics. Lynn was an associate professor of Drama at the U of C so I think he would know what he is talking about. As a not-yet graduated student, I have spent my share of time on campus and sometimes have been struck with the ridiculousness of it all. Even so, if I have interpreted the short fiction correctly, the real troubles happen not with the students but at the faculty level. There seems to be a never-ending struggle to ensure proper funding and it seems as though everyone is fighting tooth and nail for any share of it they can scrounge.
Lynn’s “Notes for a Novel on Future University Life” delves into the university culture. Even with the story’s sarcastic tone and Lynn’s biting observations, I felt like this “fantasia” wasn’t that fantastic. The struggles described in the short fiction such as rivalry between tenured professors and sessional instructors is not that far from the truth. In my second year of university I had a mightily peeved sessional instructor who had not been given any courses for the following semester because he was “just a sessional.” He spent a good portion of that day’s lecture complaining about tenured professors. To me it just sounded like a rant. As a student, I always enjoyed the lectures from the more seasoned professors rather than the brand new ones; there was more experience and insight. In my experience, they also tended to mark fairer and were less defensive about their views—after years of teaching they realized a student’s opinions weren’t a personal attack. The young professors don’t always grasp that. However, even with the extra insight that the tenured professors have I would hardly advise cryogenic freezing.
Another thing that really struck a cord with me about Lynn’s story is his treatment of electronic libraries. In 2001 this may have seemed like a ridiculous assumption. Surely, it would never happen. Fast-forward 10 years and almost everyone has access to a computer and through it a myriad of different books and articles. Perhaps this is also a reflection of how fast technology changes. Ten years ago no on knew what a blog was. Now every person and their dog are documenting every minute of the day. (It’s not like I am any different.) Additionally, more and more people are converting to digital media such as e-readers. Since 2001 information has become so accessible that Lynn’s sarcastic comments about the dispersion of knowledge are not only eerily observant but seem almost clairvoyant. But, perhaps the current rate of knowledge transmission isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
The third point that I related to from Lynn’s short story was the subtly communicated rivalry between the Arts and the Science faculties. As an Arts student it was always very clear that the Science students somehow seemed more respected. They have the newer buildings—including heated door handles for those pesky Alberta winters. The Arts students always seem to be stuck in a corner, cloistered away. But one thing that stops me from being truly bitter is knowing that I am going to come away with a little less debt. It is one thing that is rarely considered but an Arts degree costs less than a science degree. And I think this is the way it should be.
As an Arts student, I don’t have labs that require expensive equipment or odd substances to experiment with. I need books and access to cultural knowledge (and with electronic access to libraries around the world I am set). So I shouldn’t have to pay for someone else’s education. When my science student friends complain about their $7,000 tuition for one year, I can be happy that I’ll only be paying $5,000 for skills I don’t need a fancy machine to use. They can keep their heated door handles; I have more interesting things to ponder—like what does it mean to have cold hands. I feel as though Lynn’s satire missed this aspect.
But maybe Lynn didn’t address the issue of tuition because he was more concentrated on other matters. There is a large focus on bureaucracy and how the system doesn’t really serve any one. With too many people to please no one is being pleased. Lynn writes, “despite the co-operative posture the University has at all times tried to maintain, the Provincial Government nevertheless continually berates the University for its perceived inefficiency.”
Overall Lynn’s short fiction is very tongue and cheek about universities in this province. He has some interesting insights into how universities work and examines many of the stereotypes about higher education. From staff at war to blatant favoritism with faculties, this story made me wonder when and how all of these musings and jests became normal. Part of what I found amusing about “Notes for a Novel on Future University Life” was how relevant it was. I would be interested to know if he received inspiration from one institution in particular. There are so many choices in Alberta when it comes to post-secondary education that I wonder if this way meant as a “blanket” reaction or a more targeted one. Perhaps Lynn’s years at the U of C impacted his portrayal of educational institutions in his short story.
Heery Lynn is now a Senior Instructor in the Drama department at the University of Calgary. I wonder if his opinions have changed since he wrote this story. A common theme it appears in my posts is change, or lack there of. People always say that things are no different than they were 500 years ago—we just have plumbing and electricity. In some ways that’s quite disheartening. So no matter how hard we try and change things, people are fundamentally stuck in a never-ending pattern. We may progress in terms of research and technology but we don’t often change sociologically. I guess it all boils down to your perspective of humanity. If you believe people are genuinely good, you remain hopeful. If you believe people are constantly struggling to subdue their villainous nature, you are not. Based on Lynn’s short story and his portrayal of people, I would say people are incredibly corrupt, always scheming and underhanded. That is a pretty bleak outlook for Albertans. I prefer to think they mean well and mess up a lot.
Sincerely,
Nicole (The Intern)
To read my previous blog posts, as well as others on the site, click here.
For information on the Twitter Campaign and for the official rules click here.
To read the issue mentioned in this article, click here.
To read the issue featured in my next blog, click here.
