On Trodding The Boards Again

      As many of you know, Monday I wound up delivering a guest lecture to a group of second-year students in RK's Introduction to Poetry class. It was a bit of a weird experience; I haven't done a "guest" lecture in some time (i.e., a lecture for a course or a project in which I wasn't already intimately or professionally involved), and not having flexed those discursive/rhetorial/dramaturgical muscles at all in some months, it was rather a lot like trying to play an instrument again after many years away from it. I felt creaky, and by my own standards I was off my game. I shouldn't sound here too self-effacing: the students, very gracious and kind young men and women, have been generous, and more than I expected, they seemed to have a good time with my lanky, nattering presence. But it got me thinking about a few things, replaying the game as I so often do in that increasingly vacuous space known as My Head. I made some mistakes that must have made me seem very green indeed. I came in spiked on far too much coffee and in a bit of a disorder, and I am sure that at first I must have looked nervous and even distracted. Big mistake. That'll teach me to wake up too early. (Dr J can go through coffee like he can go through beer: not perfectly, but impressively.) And then I made the mistake of thinking I was "covering" a lecture rather than do a guest spot of my own, i.e., I considered my discussion too much a continuation of the course rather than my own independent discussion. Or, put another way, I came in to teach rather than to talk. Another goofball error, probably the result of all those years of covering lectures for courses in which I taught directly. I also made the mistake of assuming "facts not in evidence," mainly that the students had been told to read The Iliad by that point in the course, and, naturally, I got thrust a bit away from the plate when most of them admitted they hadn't finished, or for some of them, even started reading. Oops. And, to top it off, my voice wasn't in great form, though I've never liked "over-speaking": sometimes, I like to turn the volume down, and old trick I learned that can encourage students to listen a little more closely and a little more actively.

      But, boo-boos and boo-boos, they prove you're human, I guess. And it is always strange coming in to speak to a group of people with whom you haven't set up a kind of rapport. As the lecture progressed, and in the tutorials (where, frankly, I've always been more comfortable), I was slowly starting to develop that rapport, but it reminds one how much better speakers (and actors, for that matter) are always responding, even indirectly, to an audience, especially for a guy like me who pushes for students to jump in during my rambling. I can't complain, though. In addition to the students being so gracious, a lot of them seemed rather genuinely interested and good-spirited, and they seemed to laugh a fair bit, always a good sign. I'm told by several people I'm my own worst critic, an assessment probably quite true. I don't know. I'm content with how things went, all considered, and it was nice to be trodding those boards again. It was fun, especially when my mischievous-assed self cajoled a few poor victims, er, students, to try reading Old and Middle English aloud, a task all of them accepted with good spirit. My only regret is being that bit off my normal game, but I guess that is to be a bit expected from someone who has developed more rust than patina. It was good to part of that chaos of the mind again. I should probably go out and get some WD-40, though. Creeeeak!