Amid the great thrill of "abroad" - the culture class, the (mis)adventures, the revelations and self-discovery - one often forgets the other part of the phrase: "study."
It is an afterthought, a whisper, a necessary price tag that hangs upon your time out of the United States. But it is there. And as I've gone a whole semester brushing it aside, I feel that it deserves at least one column.
As I began to consider this piece, I realized that in my case (fully integrating into UCL instead of doing a satellite program), the "study" couldn't exist without bringing in the "abroad." My true education is traveling. Good thing I have that mindset because I would probably have bashed my brains in early on if I were here solely for the British "education."
At first, I thought I would simply have to adjust. I admit, having lectures instead of class discussions seemed odd for English and was an unwelcome change for me (I'm that guy whose hand is fixed in the air). But the British do like their order. Year-long courses reminded me too much of high school and I was hesitant about being married to a subject for so long. But, considering that the British have broad courses ("Literature, 1945 to Present") instead of Tufts' amazingly specific ones ("Jewish Representations in Hollywood"), I understand why a year is needed.
But nothing could have prepared me for what lay in store.
I'm convinced that there is a running bet in the UCL English Department over who can give the most pointless, irrelevant lecture. Now, before you say, "You're an English major. Is there such thing as a purposeful lecture?" please hear this example:
Reading week had just ended and, amidst my trips to Marrakech and Bath, I had forced myself to read Chaucer's excruciatingly dull masterpiece "Troilus and Criseyde." As I entered the lecture hall, I was naturally expecting some reward for finishing that work - like a lecture that would enlighten me further on the topic and make me feel like I made the right decision by forsaking sleep.
The lecturer began his talk, immediately fixing it upon astrology and astronomy. For the next hour, I was subjected to a ramble that touched upon everything from Venus' chronological alignment with Mars to instruments used in medieval England to chart the stars that eventually led to the wristwatch.
Well, everything except "Troilus and Criseyde." I think he might have mentioned it twice in the whole lecture. Of course, I'm not entirely sure. Twenty minutes in, I began paying less attention and instead started writing my grocery list. Then what countries I wanted to visit next term. Then I tried to see if I could remember the names of all the photo albums I have up on Facebook.
This is sadly not an extraordinary case. Chaucer lectures have also centered around topics like the Eiffel Tower, eels reproducing, and a ninth-century poet waking up in his own vomit. My "Moderns" class tends to focus on the author's biography, what other people thought of him and the lecturer's own personal opinion of him. One lecturer said everything about the history of "Waiting for Godot" but nothing about the play itself.
My seminars are far more engrossing and relevant - but sadly, they're only half the battle. I wonder if the British will ever catch on, drop the lecture format, and shift completely to seminars like American literature classes.
I have to remember that when I'm here, everything I need to learn is learned outside of the classroom.
Devin Toohey is a junior majoring in classics who is currently studying abroad in London. He can be reached at Devin.Toohey@tufts.edu
