Climbing Higher

The steep ascent.

It looks like the top, but it's not.

Grasmere from the trail.

Alcock Tarn.

Research is very much like climbing a hill.  Part way up, you see what you think is the top, and in your enthusiasm rush forward to that peak only to find that it is merely a ridge hiding the real peak, which looms much, much higher above you.  It’s tempting to get discouraged at those moments, throw down one’s pack, and start thinking about the easier climb down.  In every research project I’ve ever undertaken, I hit a moment when I begin to think that what I thought was a peak of originality turns out to be merely an already discussed or commonly known point.  The work I've done is just part of the territory, and there’s much more ground to be covered if I’m going to find anything new.  It’s a moment of self-doubt, and I know from experience that the best thing to do is not to throw down the pack and head for the valley but to keep climbing.  Sometimes, though, it’s a good idea to take a break and reassess one’s resources and positions.  I hit that point on Monday.  Suddenly, everything I had been thinking seemed to have been said already, and I needed a break.

Fortunately for me, Tuesday was the most gorgeous day we’ve had here since we arrived in early January.  The sky was totally blue, brilliant blue, and Alcock Tarn was calling.  The tarn is high on a hill above our home, and we’ve been wanting to climb up to see it since we’ve arrived.  So I used the good weather as an excuse to lay aside the books for awhile and gain a new perspective.  It was worth it—not just because it was an absolutely perfect day to hike but because I did gain new views on the research too and began to see what I think is the way forward and the contributions I might be able to make.  And part of that perspective was to realize that I can’t possibly see the end of the path this early on.  I have to trust the process and continue to learn as I go. If I trust the intuitions coming to me and continue to work, I’ll be fine.  In the meantime, I am enjoying the process again, thanks to the glorious day of hiking up to the tarn.

It was a good thing we took Tuesday off to hike, because the cold weather returned with a vengeance on Wednesday and sent me scurrying back to the library.  I am appreciating Robert Woof’s work in William Wordsworth: The Critical Heritage.  He has very helpfully gathered the important critical reviews of Wordsworth’s Excursion as well as some of the personal responses from Wordsworth’s friends.  My favorite review was by James Montgomery, a review that is sometimes categorized as negative due to his admonition that Wordsworth’s Christian message was not clear enough, but whose piece is actually a stunning summary of Wordsworth’s strengths and philosophy, as well as what Montgomery saw as his weaknesses.  One can see why this review was one that Wordsworth read and thought about; no critic is more valuable than the one who can see clearly what you are attempting to do and can critique accurately where you succeed and fail.  

Another highlight this week was the Jonathan Wordsworth Memorial Lecture given by Michael O’Neill, Professor of English at Durham University.  The Wordsworth Winter School has been in session this past week, and participants from the conference, as well as locals, packed the library for Michael O’Neill’s graceful exposition on Shelley’s ambivalent response to Wordsworth, a response which both showed reverence for and rejection of Wordsworth’s poetry.   The Memorial Lecture, hosted by the Wordsworth Trust, pays tribute to Jonathan Wordsworth’s scholarship, and O’Neill’s thoughtful and sensitive examination of both poets’ work was indeed a fitting tribute.