Yeah, so, I've thrown my wheat-free veganism to the wind this weekend. There'd be no surviving around this crowd of pig-eaters otherwise. This large-scale consumption of animal agriculture is giving me both a planet-concern-related heartache and a lard-ass, but whatever. And I've already made a red velvet commitment for next weekend... because all my DC friends know not of the joys of cream cheese icing and red food coloring...but soon enough, I'll be back to my monastic lentils. Hopefully, I'll get there without becoming obese in the meantime.
So, here are the Highlights of the SFA Symposium's Saturday Events According to Marjorie:
1. Kevin Young. Dear lord. It has long been the case that, when I needed to be reminded about how much--and why-- I love poetry, Jelly Roll is one of the books to which I regularly return. But today he read some new poems that drew quite a lot of laughs from the audience. Laughs at weird stuff. We were an eager audience-- so much so that we had one of those great rare moments in which non-poets cheered and whistled at the end of the reading. I, of course, welled up-- partly because I was so excited to hear this particular poet, and partly because it was so great to be reminded about how wretchedly cynical I've become about how receptive folks are to real, challenging, thoughtful and innovative poetics. Quite simply, we ate it up. And the work--he read a bunch of new stuff that has a habit of cracking wise, then ripping the rug out from under you. It mourns. It fleshes. It was lovely. Good god, I love this poet.
2. The connections between food and linguistics/semiotics and between race and gender and between food and race and gender and between food and race and gender and semiotics all joined up and interlocked in my head today. And this happened with Bernard Herman's arguments regarding the apotheosis of so-called low-brow foods and cooking methods (i.e., pretty much all that is Southern, as opposed to that which has a more rarefied, or ethnically (European) unmixed heritage, such as the haute cuisine, which is obviously French, and only French, in derivation). And "apotheosis" is exactly the right word here. Allow me to take a quick meander through these ideas because, otherwise, I might lose all that good thinking I got done today: let's say there are two manners of communication. Herman calls the first "restricted code" and by this term, he means an limited-vocabulary manner of speaking that is readily accessible to most folks-- and we can draw an easy metaphoric link with this manner of speaking and homestyle cooking. And then he spoke about elaborated code, which is more specialized and containing a very specific jargon and can be metaphorically linked to professional cooking/chefery (spellcheck says I just made up that word). So, there's that-- and to extend it just a little farther, a discussion arose in a Q&A about how women are cooks and men are chefs, which then drops the lens of gender over this differentiation in vocabulary, implying that the food of women is easy and accessible, while the food of men is elite and specialized and requires a convoluted vocabulary. So, despite my clearly simplistic re-rendering here, that's pretty interesting. But then, this relates back to some of the stuff that I was talking about yesterday about appropriating, fetishizing and developing connoisseurships around the food preparation of marginalized peoples-- hence that concept of the "apotheosis" or ascension of that which is traditional, homey and "low", now achieving new heights in terms of cultural capital. Oh, this is all very messy, and I'm far too excited about the implications of this thought process to be able to relay in any logical fashion, but I will say that food academics are super cool. And listening to them is straight adrenaline to the synapses.
3. Another metaphor between food and language continually arises throughout this discourse: Ingredients are like the vocabulary while the method is like the grammar. Food has a syntax. No wonder it translates so handily to poetry.
3. I'm making friends with sweet potatoes, a heretofore repugnant-in-my-opinion vegetable. Sweet potato flan helps. And, to be fair, the Thai-esque vegan sweet potatoes I made last week didn't hurt either.
4. I may well have been won over to the pro-boudin camp. I'm still a little wary about exactly WHICH pig parts they put in that shit... but, oh, my god, I have been missing out on some pork!
5. Peanut cotton candy is amazing. Wonderbread icecream? Not so much.
6. Free Abita. Need I say more? Probably not, but I will say that there is no more enjoyable way to support a New Orleans business than to make your mom drink New Orleans beer. That said, Pecan Harvest is no Turbo Dog. There is no equal to the Turbo Dog.
7. Never underestimate the collard green. Particularly if there's bacon involved.
8. A little tip: if you are interested in pursuing a degree in, say, interdisciplinary critical and gender studies, buy the books of gender studies gurus and have them sign them. They sometimes have a delightful way of offering to introduce you around their programs. OOooH, I just got shivers! I heart smart people. I really heart smart, generous people.
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