disputation
Thanks to all of you who have congratulated in e-mail, in comments, or in blogs. It added up to the feeling of owning the world. What a day it was!
To be sure to get to the University Library in time, I left home at 7.45 to fight the traffic in the rain. Of course I came insanely early, the computer worked at once, so I wandered around in the hall feeling overdressed and nervous, trying to speak to my mother, sister, and grandmothers who also were early and I think were nearly as nervous as me.
The University Library
The lecture went fine, i guess. Large crowd for being a trial lecture, and that really helped. I had read and read and read through the manuscript the night before to get it the right length. When I started to read (for you read these lectures), I realised that I read somewhat faster than I prepared for, so I even got time to throw in a couple of bad jokes, and finished right on time. Hah!
Talking about blogs in the lecture.
Then I had to wave off those who wanted to talk to me, as I speeded up to the Faculty club on the next floor to arrange the Procession. Sounds fancy, but it means that we met with Trine, a professor in our department and a wonderful person. She is the sub dean for research at the Faculty of Arts, and was dressed in the black cape as she would be leading the disputation. Then we marched in line back into the auditorium.
Everybody rise for the procession.
Dean making the formal opening speech.
The nervous candidate presents his work.
Then I talked for twenty minutes about what this thesis was about, including a clumsy attempt to draw up my theory of the axes of convergence with my hands in the air, drawing a lot of laughter, but not too much understanding, I fear.
Bolter's first question almost knocked me over. It was intelligent, well put, and polite, but the meaning was: "what's the use of all this, really?" My friends tell me I literally swayed for a second, blushed, and stuttered before I pulled myself together to say that I wanted first of all to create a vocabulary to describe this convergence mess with, and to try to find some order and coherence in it.
First opponent Jay David Bolter.
From then on it was OK. Frankly, I don't remember much. We discussed semiotics, Aarseth's view on semiotics (where Bolter and I agreed so much we verged on backtalking poor Espen), my stand in the computer games and narratives debate. But what was said, I can't recall. Oh yes, I even had a chance to do what always pleases the audience: to give a one-word answer. Bolter did a long intro on rhetorical convergence, and then gave the example of a blog, asking: "Does the candidate consider a blog to be rhetorical convergence?" I answered: "Yes." Everyone laughed, and I suddenly realised: the candidate always has the home game. He is the one who is attacked, and has the sympathy of the audience.
Both my opponents were very good in keeping the tradition of addressing each other in the third person ("does the candidate think..."), so I had to try to keep up ("My opponent poses and intriguing question..."). It felt like playing Jeopardy, having to remember to answer with an awkward phrase every time.
I have no idea what I am trying to get away with here.
Bolter seems ready to give this candidate up...
... while Gail Hawisher tries to talk some sense into the young academic.
After a good hour of discussion, Bolter finished, and we paused for lunch. I was excited, very hungry, and not too tired, except in my thighs from standing up so long! Lunch with the dean, the committee and my supervisor was pleasant and relaxed. I ate a lot, but managed to fit in a little conversation too. After an hour, we walked in line into the auditorium again. No ex auditorio questions from the audience, so Gail Hawisher entered the podium.
My opponents were perfect, I think. Well prepared, polite, intelligent, following topics when my responses were thin. Bolter addressed the theoretical issues, the research design and the purpose and results. Hawisher dug into details, and in a surprise move opened a Web browser, and asked me to analyse three Web sites on the fly. I treated two of them in my thesis (VG Nett and Becoming Human), but the third was new to me, although I remembered seeing a screenshot of it earlier (in Remediation: Urban Diary. I messed around in it, and heard myself say: "I don't understand it, so it must be art."
Responding to Gail Hawisher
Yes, they had read my blog. Hawisher even read aloud from one of the very first posts here. It was so embarassing, don't know why. Maybe because I still think of this as a fairly private place.
Trine the Dean congratulates after the event.
Afterwards I was completely exhausted. People tried talking to me, but all I could respond was nonsense. I drove to my parent's house and slept a couple of hours before the party.
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