Below appears an example of the definition paper, as discussed here, suited to the Spring 2012 term theme. Be advised that it is of acceptable length for the assignment when formatted appropriately for submission as a paper, and that it is merely an example of how the definition paper is to be carried out.
It is a commonplace among educators in the United States that one of the major purposes of education is to suit students to become good citizens. Often unexamined, however, is what it means to be a "good citizen," and there is markedly little consensus on that score. A number of examples of good citizenry are able to be identified, however, and their common features offer a possible model for good citizenship as participation in the structures of public order coupled with the willingness and ability to question and resist those structures in the interest of improving them . The model emerges from examination of such mainstream fictional characters as Captain America from The Ultimates and B.J. Hunnicutt from M*A*S*H.
The character Captain America is one embedded in the dominant popular culture of the United States through a movie released early in the second decade of the twenty-first century and a long term of appearance in comic books. In one series of those comics, The Ultimates, he is portrayed as having volunteered to take part in the World War II Super Soldier program (Millar, Gods). Having entered the United States military to fight against Nazi Germany marks him as having participated in the support of public structures in a significant way; it is not without cause that those who served in World War II are referred to as the "Greatest Generation," and in the comics, Captain America is touted as the foremost among them. He is not, however, wholly and mindlessly obedient to the commands of the hierarchy in which he participates; he does at times take actions which his superiors condemn but which accord with his own personal code of ethics. For example, he at one point falsifies reports of having permission to go off base and requisition military equipment to pursue a personal vendetta, not because someone has wronged him, personally, but because he takes exception to an action he learns has occurred (Millar, Homeland). Although the action, an act of domestic abuse, is one that deserves execration, Captain America violates standard protocol and the rule of law to punish it on his own initiative. The action, though, goes unpunished, tacitly approving it. The approval suggests that it is a good thing for even so prominent a citizen as Captain America is in The Ultimates to, from time to time, act outside of the strictures to which good citizenship such as Captain America's normally adheres.
On the long-running television series M*A*S*H, B.J. Hunnicutt is a doctor from the San Francisco, California, area who is drafted into the United States Army during the Korean Conflict. While in service, he is assigned as a surgeon at the 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital, the MASH that gives the series its name. There, he performs admirably, saving the lives of a number of American and United Nations servicemen, Korean civilians, and even at times in the series, enemy troops who have been captured or who have surrendered. He does largely conform to the structures of the army into which he is drafted; he follows the orders of his commanding officer, accords that officer the displays of respect expected by the situation, wears appropriate uniform attire when on duty, and remains at his post at the assigned times. Hunnicutt is presented as an everyman character; he is competent, even skillful, but not superlative in his abilities, and his concerns reflect the ideals often presented as those of the "mainstream" white middle class--a population regarded (problematically) as unmarked and therefore a standard from which to judge deviation. His adherence to standards is therefore likened with model citizenship. At the same time, he is willing to set aside the rules and regulations of the army when doing so will serve the greater good. For example, in the episode "The Korean Surgeon," Hunnicutt joins his fellow doctor, Hawkeye Pierce, in aiding an enemy physician impersonate an allied doctor, an action which results in the saving of several lives before being uncovered and punished as an execution of several criminal acts. That Hunnicutt undertakes such an action, one which flagrantly violates a number of the regular rules of the military specifically and society generally, placing the benefits above the potential penalties, suggests that such model citizens as Hunnicutt is likened to will do the same. The suggestion is reinforced by the fact that Hunnicutt is not punished for his participation in the act; the very structures against which he rebels, structures which he normally adheres to, tacitly approve his violation of them for cause. Citizenship is thus presented as a nuanced thing, one that allows for criticism of the structures it normally upholds.
There are certainly other examples that can be pointed out of fictional good citizens, and recourse to them will no doubt allow for an enhanced understanding of what good citizenship is. Good citizenship is a cornerstone of civilization itself, and so anything that aids in understanding it works to the betterment of society.
Works Cited
"The Korean Surgeon." M*A*S*H. 20th Century Fox, 2006. DVD.
Millar, Mark. The Ultimates, Volume 2: Homeland Security. New York: Marvel, 2004. Print.
---. The Ultimates 2, Volume 1: Gods & Monsters. New York: Marvel, 2005. Print.
Showing posts with label Definition Paper. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Definition Paper. Show all posts
Friday, January 20, 2012
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
An External Work of Definition, Moving to Classification
It has been a while since this blog updated, and I suppose I will need to do more with it in the new term. For now, though, a link and some commentary.
The link is to Christina H.'s Cracked.com article, "5 Reasons Calling Someone a 'Nerd' Is Officially Meaningless," published 20 December 2011. In the article, Christina H. argues that the old label of "nerd," particularly defined as an intelligent social outcast who focuses overly narrowly and deeply upon an unusual field of interest, is no longer applicable. She systematically overthrows many of the old components of the definition, highlighting their historical contexts and explicating how they do not apply anymore. The article, being an online piece, is replete with links to referenced materials, helping the author to establish her veracity, and the combination of the adequate use of outside source materials and humor make for an effective article.*
I point the piece out because I find that it does represent an example of several things I wish to highlight in my classes. First, Christina H. does go through and underpin the traditional understandings and definitions with which she works, finding a number of examples which support her claims and highlighting how they do so. She also points out how those definitions fail to apply to many to whom the label "nerd" is often applied at present, so that she carries out classification according to the second option of my classification paper assignments in my first-year composition classes. In doing both, she provides an example of how the specific tasks to which I assign my students can and do show in in the "real world" as well as how the work called for in my classes need not be stilted and boring, but can be engaging and entertaining.
It is an important lesson, I think.
*I am aware that the author of the article references Wikipedia, which I advise against in my students' academic and professional work. The issue here is one of context. Cracked.com advertises itself as "America's Only Humor Site Since 1958," so that it immediately marks itself as something other than a major academic resource; the label as a "Humor Site" calls for regard as such, and the "Since 1958," a year that far predates the Internet, reinforces the idea by means of comic exaggeration. This is far different from the sober academic or technical prose that my classes call for my students to use; Cracked.com has the purpose of entertainment, and while that purpose necessarily requires that there be some informative work done, it lessens the obligation for scholarly rigor. That obligation is quite strong for my students, since I seek to train them with an eye towards scholarship; it is easier to pull back than to push forward.
The link is to Christina H.'s Cracked.com article, "5 Reasons Calling Someone a 'Nerd' Is Officially Meaningless," published 20 December 2011. In the article, Christina H. argues that the old label of "nerd," particularly defined as an intelligent social outcast who focuses overly narrowly and deeply upon an unusual field of interest, is no longer applicable. She systematically overthrows many of the old components of the definition, highlighting their historical contexts and explicating how they do not apply anymore. The article, being an online piece, is replete with links to referenced materials, helping the author to establish her veracity, and the combination of the adequate use of outside source materials and humor make for an effective article.*
I point the piece out because I find that it does represent an example of several things I wish to highlight in my classes. First, Christina H. does go through and underpin the traditional understandings and definitions with which she works, finding a number of examples which support her claims and highlighting how they do so. She also points out how those definitions fail to apply to many to whom the label "nerd" is often applied at present, so that she carries out classification according to the second option of my classification paper assignments in my first-year composition classes. In doing both, she provides an example of how the specific tasks to which I assign my students can and do show in in the "real world" as well as how the work called for in my classes need not be stilted and boring, but can be engaging and entertaining.
It is an important lesson, I think.
*I am aware that the author of the article references Wikipedia, which I advise against in my students' academic and professional work. The issue here is one of context. Cracked.com advertises itself as "America's Only Humor Site Since 1958," so that it immediately marks itself as something other than a major academic resource; the label as a "Humor Site" calls for regard as such, and the "Since 1958," a year that far predates the Internet, reinforces the idea by means of comic exaggeration. This is far different from the sober academic or technical prose that my classes call for my students to use; Cracked.com has the purpose of entertainment, and while that purpose necessarily requires that there be some informative work done, it lessens the obligation for scholarly rigor. That obligation is quite strong for my students, since I seek to train them with an eye towards scholarship; it is easier to pull back than to push forward.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Sample Definition Paper
Below appears an example of a definition paper as discussed here. It treats a type of hero that is forbidden from consideration in student papers, so that it can serve as a model while not actually doing the students' work for them. Please note both that it is an early draft, and so can stand to be improved, and that it is on the short end of acceptable length for student papers, when formatted according to stated submission guidelines here.
One of the primary narratives, if not the primary narrative, is that in which a person overcomes substantial opposition to emerge into some position of greatness; that person is typically referred to as a hero. Just as there are many stories, and many people to tell them, there are many types of hero; one that has become increasingly popular in the mainstream culture of the United States is the anti-hero. Such characters as Túrin Turambar and Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever do fulfill such traditionally heroic functions as being the focus of the texts in which they appear and triumphing over significant opposition to come to greatness. They do so, however, by way of carrying out actions that are in themselves evil; that accomplishment of fair ends by foul means typifies the anti-hero.
Túrin Turambar, for example, initially appears as a conventional hero. As J.R.R. Tolkien puts it in The Silmarillion, the young Túrin is a son of all three of the great houses of humankind in the earliest days (381-82), which marks him as a focal character in the dynastic conflicts that appear throughout the text. Specifically, Túrin is the son of Húrin, "the mightiest of the warriors of mortal Men" (286), so that he comes from the kind of ennobled pedigree often associated in stories with heroism. And he does rise up to that standard, vowing to fight solely against those bound in service to the evil powers of the world (245). He even slays a dragon, and indeed the first of dragons (273-75), a deed archetypally heroic.
As he acts the hero, though, he also does much that usually calls for a hero to kill the doer. For one, he commits an assault at the dinner table of his foster-father, later running the person he assailed to death (244); neither is particularly heroic, and they spur him to live as an outlaw (244), which is also not commonly associated with high heroism. Worse, he slays his long-time best friend (255). Worst of all, he ends up marrying and impregnating his own sister (271, 275). Neither killing one's own comrades nor committing incest is aligned with high ideals; rather, both are considered despicable acts worthy of execration. Túrin evidently feels this, turning his blade upon himself to end his own life (278)--and suicide is not seldom considered an evil action. Clearly, then, Túrin Turambar partakes of the evil, making him an anti-hero.
Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever is even clearer an example of an anti-hero than Túrin. Certainly, he does stand in the focal place of a hero; the series of books in which he appears is named after him, which hardly indicates that he is an ancillary character. And he does overcome significant opposition in the text. For one, he is a leper, subject to a disease that threatens to rob him of all sensation (2-8); it is a catastrophic, destructive illness, so that all of his actions are themselves triumphs over it. For another, he is presented with what he perceives as an impossible situation (38-44)--hence his title "the Unbeliever" (65); his perseverance in it is a surmounting of challenge. And he does come to hold a position of importance; he is accepted as a member of the ruling body of the milieu in which he finds himself, treated as a messianic figure (257-59). Clearly, then, Covenant is set up to take the part of a hero.
Even so, he is marked as evil. Aside from his disease, which both traditionally and in the text is taken as a sign of abomination and reason to exclude him from the community (1-8), he is repeatedly described as closed to the forces of the milieu in which he finds himself (107, 257), and being closed-off is taken as a sign of malicious intent. It is not entirely unjust; he is brought to the milieu at the behest of its version of Satan (32-37). That evil power sends him with a message, so that Covenant functions as a servant of the devil, clearly an evil role. Also, early in the text, Covenant rapes a sixteen-year-old girl who had previously offered him hospitality and medical care (90-92); not only is the host-guest relationship violated in this, which has long been a sin, a young woman is violated, which is inexcusably reprehensible. It is manifest, then, that Covenant is far removed from the typically heroic, even though he comes to fill a number of its functions; he, too, is an anti-hero.
There are other examples that can be considered to aid in supporting a definition of an anti-hero as a character who accomplishes fair ends by foul means, not only within the literary genre in which Túrin and Covenant appear, but in other genres and other media. That there are so many anti-heroes calls for an accurate assessment of what makes them fit into that type of (nominally) heroic character; having a fitting definition of the type is the first step in doing so.
Works Cited
Donaldson, Stephen R. Lord Foul's Bane. New York: Del Rey, 2004. Print.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. New York: Ballantine Books, 1982. Print.
One of the primary narratives, if not the primary narrative, is that in which a person overcomes substantial opposition to emerge into some position of greatness; that person is typically referred to as a hero. Just as there are many stories, and many people to tell them, there are many types of hero; one that has become increasingly popular in the mainstream culture of the United States is the anti-hero. Such characters as Túrin Turambar and Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever do fulfill such traditionally heroic functions as being the focus of the texts in which they appear and triumphing over significant opposition to come to greatness. They do so, however, by way of carrying out actions that are in themselves evil; that accomplishment of fair ends by foul means typifies the anti-hero.
Túrin Turambar, for example, initially appears as a conventional hero. As J.R.R. Tolkien puts it in The Silmarillion, the young Túrin is a son of all three of the great houses of humankind in the earliest days (381-82), which marks him as a focal character in the dynastic conflicts that appear throughout the text. Specifically, Túrin is the son of Húrin, "the mightiest of the warriors of mortal Men" (286), so that he comes from the kind of ennobled pedigree often associated in stories with heroism. And he does rise up to that standard, vowing to fight solely against those bound in service to the evil powers of the world (245). He even slays a dragon, and indeed the first of dragons (273-75), a deed archetypally heroic.
As he acts the hero, though, he also does much that usually calls for a hero to kill the doer. For one, he commits an assault at the dinner table of his foster-father, later running the person he assailed to death (244); neither is particularly heroic, and they spur him to live as an outlaw (244), which is also not commonly associated with high heroism. Worse, he slays his long-time best friend (255). Worst of all, he ends up marrying and impregnating his own sister (271, 275). Neither killing one's own comrades nor committing incest is aligned with high ideals; rather, both are considered despicable acts worthy of execration. Túrin evidently feels this, turning his blade upon himself to end his own life (278)--and suicide is not seldom considered an evil action. Clearly, then, Túrin Turambar partakes of the evil, making him an anti-hero.
Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever is even clearer an example of an anti-hero than Túrin. Certainly, he does stand in the focal place of a hero; the series of books in which he appears is named after him, which hardly indicates that he is an ancillary character. And he does overcome significant opposition in the text. For one, he is a leper, subject to a disease that threatens to rob him of all sensation (2-8); it is a catastrophic, destructive illness, so that all of his actions are themselves triumphs over it. For another, he is presented with what he perceives as an impossible situation (38-44)--hence his title "the Unbeliever" (65); his perseverance in it is a surmounting of challenge. And he does come to hold a position of importance; he is accepted as a member of the ruling body of the milieu in which he finds himself, treated as a messianic figure (257-59). Clearly, then, Covenant is set up to take the part of a hero.
Even so, he is marked as evil. Aside from his disease, which both traditionally and in the text is taken as a sign of abomination and reason to exclude him from the community (1-8), he is repeatedly described as closed to the forces of the milieu in which he finds himself (107, 257), and being closed-off is taken as a sign of malicious intent. It is not entirely unjust; he is brought to the milieu at the behest of its version of Satan (32-37). That evil power sends him with a message, so that Covenant functions as a servant of the devil, clearly an evil role. Also, early in the text, Covenant rapes a sixteen-year-old girl who had previously offered him hospitality and medical care (90-92); not only is the host-guest relationship violated in this, which has long been a sin, a young woman is violated, which is inexcusably reprehensible. It is manifest, then, that Covenant is far removed from the typically heroic, even though he comes to fill a number of its functions; he, too, is an anti-hero.
There are other examples that can be considered to aid in supporting a definition of an anti-hero as a character who accomplishes fair ends by foul means, not only within the literary genre in which Túrin and Covenant appear, but in other genres and other media. That there are so many anti-heroes calls for an accurate assessment of what makes them fit into that type of (nominally) heroic character; having a fitting definition of the type is the first step in doing so.
Works Cited
Donaldson, Stephen R. Lord Foul's Bane. New York: Del Rey, 2004. Print.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. New York: Ballantine Books, 1982. Print.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Sample Definition Paper
The essay which appears below is at the short end of what is an acceptable length for the definition paper I expect from my freshman English students. It attempts to refine the raw concept of antagonism for my students; students will need to follow the directions for their papers that are provided here in terms of topic; the formatting is adjusted for appearance on a blog. While it is a five-paragraph essay, each of the five paragraphs is well over one hundred words, and the number of sentences varies.
Many stories depend upon conflict, and a conflict can only be as intense as those involved in it are closely matched. As such, the opposition to the focal character or characters of a story is every bit as important to that story as those focal characters. That opposition is labeled as an antagonist, but it is not necessarily true that the opposition is evil or even targeted at the focal character or characters. Anything that impedes the ability of the focal character or characters to pursue the end goal of a story is an antagonist. Some examples of antagonists are rabid wolves, muggers on the streets, and overly rigid legal structures.
Many stories depend upon conflict, and a conflict can only be as intense as those involved in it are closely matched. As such, the opposition to the focal character or characters of a story is every bit as important to that story as those focal characters. That opposition is labeled as an antagonist, but it is not necessarily true that the opposition is evil or even targeted at the focal character or characters. Anything that impedes the ability of the focal character or characters to pursue the end goal of a story is an antagonist. Some examples of antagonists are rabid wolves, muggers on the streets, and overly rigid legal structures.
Wolves often figure as creatures associated with evil; werewolves are classic movie monsters and beasts of folklore, wolves themselves are one of the traditional forms assumed by vampires, and the animals themselves factor in as the villains of such traditional stories as “Little Red Riding Hood.” More concretely, they do present themselves as problems for those whose livelihoods depend upon livestock; wolves prey upon such creatures as sheep and goats, and those who herd them for their living tend to view their predators as enemies. When the already-oppositional lupine is infected with a disease that drives it to unusually aggressive behavior, the antagonistic tendencies of the beasts are only enhanced; rather than attacking sheep, they will attack people, and they are even more insidious in that they can prove fatal from even a minor bite, rather than the severe injuries normally required to kill. The reports of objectionable wolf behavior come from the people who are affected, and as it is a commonplace for the tellers of tales to present themselves as the focal characters or to speak on their behalf, the rabid wolves find themselves as the antagonists of the stories told of them. This occurs despite the fact that as animals—and as animals whose brains are affected by disease—they lack the capacity for moral judgment that can actually cause evil, so that while opposition is required for antagonism, direct malevolence is not.
Back-alley muggers, however, are directly and deliberately aligned against those whom they oppose. Attacking victims from ambush and using threats of force or actual force to extract from them what valuables they may have are certainly oppositional to those victims, and since the prevailing social mores maintain that persons have the right to be secure in their own persons, the victims, being wronged, are made the focal characters of the true stories of their being mugged. Also, attacking another person from ambush requires advanced thought and deliberation to establish a position from which to attack and a route from which to escape from the scene of the attack; intent is thus necessary, and is pursued at length by muggers. Opposition can therefore be deliberate, so that those who pursue it are made antagonists.
Both rabid wolves and muggers are discrete, identifiable beings. They can be seen and, potentially, avoided. It is not necessarily true, however, that opposition comes from a directly identifiable being. An inflexible legal system can prove oppositional, even to those who intend no wrong and simply try to live their lives well, and there is no specific person or tangible object that presents that opposition. While it is true that laws are put into place, enforced, and interpreted by individuals, working singly or in concert, the laws themselves are not tangible. There is no single object that is, in fact, the law; destroying no single document or group of documents will actually unmake the law. Even so, it can prove oppositional. Legislation restricting access to certain chemicals—whether used to harm others or by consenting adults in the privacy of their own homes—proves a hindrance to those who would employ them for whatever reason. Legal decisions restricting what can and cannot, and what must and must not, be taught in classrooms inhibits academic freedom and restricts the ability of pupils to learn freely, both of which are oppositional to the free inquiry upon which an open society theoretically depends; it can hardly be argued that those who are trying to learn are acting ill, and those who are attempting to learn are those from whose perspectives narratives are typically presented, so that those things which oppose them must be called antagonistic. Again, though, the raw definition of antagonism only provides for that opposition; it does not even necessitate a distinct thing to present that opposition.
Whatever form it takes, however concrete or abstract, that which opposes the focal character or characters is the antagonist. There are many varieties of antagonist, just as there are many different stories, and it is in the distinctions among them that they become truly interesting.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sample Definition Paper
Students, please find below a sample draft of a definition paper. Do note that the topic of the paper is not one that is admissible for your own work; as I explained during class time, I retain some genres for just such uses as this, that I can provide examples for you without writing your papers for you.
Keep in mind that this is a draft. The prewriting I have done has been largely in terms of thinking about the subject, though I have sketched a few ideas out in classroom examples and in my own response to the diagnostic prompt I had you address.
Progressive rock is a genre of music that enjoyed the height of its popularity in the mid to late 1970s. It is typified by songs longer than is typical of rock music, intellectualized lyrics, use of usually-orchestral instruments, and unusual-for-rock rhythmic constructions. Songs which typify the genre include Muse's "Knights of Cydonia," Jethro Tull's "Thick as a Brick," and Kansas' "Miracles out of Nowhere."
Muse's music post-dates the prominence of progressive rock by several decades, though the band's "Knights of Cydonia" still represents the features of progressive rock. Unlike most rock songs of its own time, which play for three to four minutes, "Knights of Cydonia" is approximately six minutes in length, nearly double most of its contemporaries. Its lyrics call into question the competence of deity and the validity of authority, noting that "God / Falls asleep on the job. / ... / When fools can be kings." They address a counter-cultural idea that appears in much academic writing, which seeks to undermine traditional notions of rightness-because-someone-said-so and expose them to examination. Since they mimic "higher" intellectual activities, the lyrics become more intellectual than is otherwise common.
In addition, the song's instrumentation relies heavily on synthesizers, which are admittedly not among the most Classical of instruments, but the synthesizers are tuned throughout the song to mimic the brassy fanfares of trumpets. Such fanfares pervade Classical music (the "William Tell Overture" comes to mind), as do the arpeggiated triplets that accompany the main melodic lines of the song throughout. While arpeggiation is not uncommon in rock (Van Halen offers many examples, for instance), most rock operates in twos and fours rather than in the threes of Muse's underlying accompaniment. The appearance in "Knights of Cydonia" of a triplet-driven accompaniment line marks the song's unusual rhythmic content and contributes to its representation of the progressive rock genre.
The much earlier "Thick as a Brick" is a more prominent representative of the genre. The band which performs it, Jethro Tull, formed in the late 1960s and has continued to play since; the song itself appeared in the mid 1970s, at the height of progressive rock's popularity. And the song is long, playing for more than forty minutes in total, some ten times the common four-minute length of popular songs at the time.
The lyrics are also unusual. While poetry appears in song lyrics for as long as either art form can be said to have existed, the lyrics of "Thick as a Brick" partake of some of the less-structured poetic forms, relying on slant rhyme and irregular line-length. Such forms are often perceived as being more difficult to employ effectively, making the composition of the song's lyrics more intellectual an exercise than is often the case for songwriters. Also, the simple length of the song demands more material to fill it, provision of which necessarily requires more mental effort to perform.
The band, Jethro Tull, is noted especially for the flute-playing of band leader Ian Anderson. His work on the woodwind instrument is featured prominently in the song, imparting an almost-gentle overlay to the melodic lines. Flutes do not often appear in rock music--though it is notable that some of the most famous rock songs use such instrumentation--but are prevalent in even the darkest and heaviest Classical music. That "Thick as a Brick" employs one is one of the more obvious of the ways in which it represents the progressive rock genre.
Rhythmically, the song also represents the genre. Throughout, stoppages in play occur, which are devices more commonly used in the grand conclusions of major orchestral works than in rock music. Too, the song employs not only triplets such as are seen in "Knights of Cydonia," but invokes quintuplet passages, imparting yet more rhythmic complexity to its melodic and accompanying lines. Also, the song makes free use of syncopation, a construction more commonly seen in jazz than rock. "Thick as a Brick" thus clearly represents progressive rock.
Perhaps the purest example of progressive rock is Kansas' "Miracles out of Nowhere," which was released in the mid-1970s. At nearly six and a half minutes, the song is markedly longer than its more mainstream contemporaries. Its lyrics are more regular in form than those of Jethro Tull's "Thick as a Brick"; the rhymes are more exact and the chorus is in pentameter couplets, mimicking the dominant poetic line of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. In that mimicry, though, the lyrics do partake of the dominant literary tradition in English, reflecting older intellectual movements. Also, the song's main verses are irregular in line-length, which has the same function for "Miracles out of Nowhere" as line-length irregularity does for "Thick as a Brick."
Kansas features as one of its major attractants a rich violin line. Violin pervades "Miracles out of Nowhere," as is atypical of rock but obligatory in Classical music; most of the orchestra, as usually arranged, consists of violinists. And the rhythmic constructions in the song are equally unusual. In extended instrumental passages, the song changes time signature every measure. Not only does it change meters, it does so among uncommon meters, playing in seven, nine, and eleven, rather than the more common two, three, and four. Within the oscillating meters, the song extensively employs triplet rhythmic patterns, often overlaying multiple instruments offering them in overlap with one another. The immense complexity thereby created challenges listening, making the song one of the shining examples of progressive rock.
That progressive rock, with its complex rhythms, borrowings from other major musical movements, rich lyrical content, and extended-length songs, appears infrequently is lamentable. It offers a unique opportunity for engagement, and engaging with music is something many people enjoy.
Works Cited
Jethro Tull. "Thick as a Brick." Thick as a Brick. AMG, 1998. CD.
Kansas. "Miracles out of Nowhere." Leftoverture. Kirshner, 2001. CD.
Muse. "Knights of Cydonia." Haarp. Helium 3, 2008. CD.
Keep in mind that this is a draft. The prewriting I have done has been largely in terms of thinking about the subject, though I have sketched a few ideas out in classroom examples and in my own response to the diagnostic prompt I had you address.
Progressive rock is a genre of music that enjoyed the height of its popularity in the mid to late 1970s. It is typified by songs longer than is typical of rock music, intellectualized lyrics, use of usually-orchestral instruments, and unusual-for-rock rhythmic constructions. Songs which typify the genre include Muse's "Knights of Cydonia," Jethro Tull's "Thick as a Brick," and Kansas' "Miracles out of Nowhere."
Muse's music post-dates the prominence of progressive rock by several decades, though the band's "Knights of Cydonia" still represents the features of progressive rock. Unlike most rock songs of its own time, which play for three to four minutes, "Knights of Cydonia" is approximately six minutes in length, nearly double most of its contemporaries. Its lyrics call into question the competence of deity and the validity of authority, noting that "God / Falls asleep on the job. / ... / When fools can be kings." They address a counter-cultural idea that appears in much academic writing, which seeks to undermine traditional notions of rightness-because-someone-said-so and expose them to examination. Since they mimic "higher" intellectual activities, the lyrics become more intellectual than is otherwise common.
In addition, the song's instrumentation relies heavily on synthesizers, which are admittedly not among the most Classical of instruments, but the synthesizers are tuned throughout the song to mimic the brassy fanfares of trumpets. Such fanfares pervade Classical music (the "William Tell Overture" comes to mind), as do the arpeggiated triplets that accompany the main melodic lines of the song throughout. While arpeggiation is not uncommon in rock (Van Halen offers many examples, for instance), most rock operates in twos and fours rather than in the threes of Muse's underlying accompaniment. The appearance in "Knights of Cydonia" of a triplet-driven accompaniment line marks the song's unusual rhythmic content and contributes to its representation of the progressive rock genre.
The much earlier "Thick as a Brick" is a more prominent representative of the genre. The band which performs it, Jethro Tull, formed in the late 1960s and has continued to play since; the song itself appeared in the mid 1970s, at the height of progressive rock's popularity. And the song is long, playing for more than forty minutes in total, some ten times the common four-minute length of popular songs at the time.
The lyrics are also unusual. While poetry appears in song lyrics for as long as either art form can be said to have existed, the lyrics of "Thick as a Brick" partake of some of the less-structured poetic forms, relying on slant rhyme and irregular line-length. Such forms are often perceived as being more difficult to employ effectively, making the composition of the song's lyrics more intellectual an exercise than is often the case for songwriters. Also, the simple length of the song demands more material to fill it, provision of which necessarily requires more mental effort to perform.
The band, Jethro Tull, is noted especially for the flute-playing of band leader Ian Anderson. His work on the woodwind instrument is featured prominently in the song, imparting an almost-gentle overlay to the melodic lines. Flutes do not often appear in rock music--though it is notable that some of the most famous rock songs use such instrumentation--but are prevalent in even the darkest and heaviest Classical music. That "Thick as a Brick" employs one is one of the more obvious of the ways in which it represents the progressive rock genre.
Rhythmically, the song also represents the genre. Throughout, stoppages in play occur, which are devices more commonly used in the grand conclusions of major orchestral works than in rock music. Too, the song employs not only triplets such as are seen in "Knights of Cydonia," but invokes quintuplet passages, imparting yet more rhythmic complexity to its melodic and accompanying lines. Also, the song makes free use of syncopation, a construction more commonly seen in jazz than rock. "Thick as a Brick" thus clearly represents progressive rock.
Perhaps the purest example of progressive rock is Kansas' "Miracles out of Nowhere," which was released in the mid-1970s. At nearly six and a half minutes, the song is markedly longer than its more mainstream contemporaries. Its lyrics are more regular in form than those of Jethro Tull's "Thick as a Brick"; the rhymes are more exact and the chorus is in pentameter couplets, mimicking the dominant poetic line of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. In that mimicry, though, the lyrics do partake of the dominant literary tradition in English, reflecting older intellectual movements. Also, the song's main verses are irregular in line-length, which has the same function for "Miracles out of Nowhere" as line-length irregularity does for "Thick as a Brick."
Kansas features as one of its major attractants a rich violin line. Violin pervades "Miracles out of Nowhere," as is atypical of rock but obligatory in Classical music; most of the orchestra, as usually arranged, consists of violinists. And the rhythmic constructions in the song are equally unusual. In extended instrumental passages, the song changes time signature every measure. Not only does it change meters, it does so among uncommon meters, playing in seven, nine, and eleven, rather than the more common two, three, and four. Within the oscillating meters, the song extensively employs triplet rhythmic patterns, often overlaying multiple instruments offering them in overlap with one another. The immense complexity thereby created challenges listening, making the song one of the shining examples of progressive rock.
That progressive rock, with its complex rhythms, borrowings from other major musical movements, rich lyrical content, and extended-length songs, appears infrequently is lamentable. It offers a unique opportunity for engagement, and engaging with music is something many people enjoy.
Works Cited
Jethro Tull. "Thick as a Brick." Thick as a Brick. AMG, 1998. CD.
Kansas. "Miracles out of Nowhere." Leftoverture. Kirshner, 2001. CD.
Muse. "Knights of Cydonia." Haarp. Helium 3, 2008. CD.
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