The purpose of my journaling has changed considerably over time. This marks a new beginning – into professional studenthood.
I’m now a master’s student at the University of Edinburgh, under the tutelage of James Loxley.
The discussion that prompted my application was very welcoming, and I find myself in the privileged position of working with a scholar whose work and demeanour I had come to appreciate.
Dr Loxley’s reputation for geniality precedes him. He attracted quite a crowd at the initiation. Amusingly, one of his previous students shared an anecdote about him dressing up in period costume at a museum. Brilliant!
There arose the chance to spill my interest in Knightmare. Another tutee alongside me was familiar with ‘the greater game’, and was glad to be reminded of it.
With no taught requirements, this is a distance arrangement. But it’s intense at times. Four consecutive 270-mile round trips during the initiation week of Research Methods familiarised me with the wonderful Northumbrian coastline.
My first supervision and first assessment, an annotated bibliography to be completed in 24 hours, coincided on a very long Thursday, when I swiftly grew to understand how little I know. Where do I begin to form the basis for a 30,000 word dissertation?
Talking through my undergraduate dissertation upon which ideas were based, a candidate soon emerged: the Royalist poet Thomas Jordan.
This soon started to become an attractive idea. Jordan is deeply embedded in Royalist writing culture, a field that Loxley knows as well as anyone.
He’s a playful, engaged, and highly capable – if inconsistent – poet, with possible links to Shakespeare and Jonson. He was also involved in the first official appearance of an actress on stage in 1660.
It’s daunting that only one study on Thomas Jordan exists, and that from over 50 years ago. It’s far from the relative comfort zone of Andrew Marvell.
So, this space – whatever it is, wherever it is – may end up as an academic diary, encouraging me to explore ideas in the environment where they will best uncover themselves. It may end up as something else entirely.
The interest in my favoured period often overlaps with contemporary issues. How does one decide between circulating thoughts privately and publicly? Which occasions prompt a particular emphasis to write, not to write, or to write and then conceal?
Writing one long dissertation over twelve months requires steady progress, and I’m hopeful that white space will draw it from within.