All 3 entries tagged Ipad
December 16, 2011
Following on from my previous musings on Dickens 2012 and literary tourism, this new apptakes the literary tour to a new level: an interactive map of Dickens's "dark London" which promises to "take users on a journey through the darker side of Charles Dickens’ London". In light of my previous post, this suggested some similar questions about the literary tourism and the mapping of represented/historical spaces onto contemporary "real" spaces. By virtue of its nature, though, an ipad app removes what I previously perceived as a crucial component of the literary tour: its opportunity for a mobile experience of history and the author.
I was intrigued, then, as to what the app would deliver; and the answer is, not an awful lot. The basis of the app is an interactive map of London, in which an 1862 map is overlaid onto a contemporary satellite image; a sliding bar at the bottom of the page allows you to move gradually from one to the other, along with the usual touch-screen navigation and zoom tools around both of the maps. For someone who loves maps, it's nice to have an 1862 city map to hand (although the app as a whole is frustratingly ill-referenced so I'm not sre which map edition this is based on) and the sliding time-scale is neatly done, although of limited use after a few goes.
The map screen contains links to the "editions" that are being released every month - graphic novels that incorporate excerpts from Dickens's writing, primarily Sketches by Boz as well as some of the novels such as Bleak House in this first edition, illustrated and with an accompanying narration. There are also "hotspots" which offer more contextual information on some pages. The emphasis in the content, as I suspect will be the case in subsequent editions, is on excerpts detailing the streets of London, whilst accompanying images on each page attempt to "bring to life" the written descriptions:
"from the irregular square into which he has plunged, the streets and courts dart in all directions, until they are lost in the unwholesome vapour which hangs over the house-tops, and renders the dirty perspective uncertain and confined"
Except here the app not so much falls flat, as simply undoes itself; because Dickens's descriptions of the streets speak for themselves, or rather say more than any image, map, or accompanying historical fact can offer. It doesn't take anything else to breathe life into the written word, and placing the text in this context ultimately only serves to highlight that, really, the accompanying paraphenelia is redundant: ultimately, it's the written word that stands out most strongly here. Not only that, but this all detracts from the complexity and meaning that lies in Dickens's representations of the city, reducing the idea of "Dickens's London" to a single meaning and suggesting that these excerpts are little more than historical fact that we read for the truths they tell us about the Victorian streets.
As with the literary tour, this resides in a fundamental misreading of the relationship between real and literary spaces, but positions this within a wider framework of misreading the relationship between literature and history/ text and culture.
June 08, 2011
Following on from my previous musings on this subject, the first scholarly edition designed for the iPad was launched yesterday - an app of TS Eliot's The Waste Land. I haven't purchased it yet, and I won't be rushing to (it's £7.99 - pretty expensive as apps go, and it's not a text that I teach or research so my decent and well-annotated edition serves me well enough) but the Guardian videocast (linked above) and description on the Apple Apps store give a good idea of the features. My first impressions are that it looks like a well thought out and potentially very useful material: the surrounding material includes critical commentary and annotations, recordings of the text by Eliot, Ted Hughes, and a filmed performance of Fiona Shaw's reading, as well as facsimile manuscript pages. All of this is not only very helpful for student use, but especially so in the way that it's been designed for use on the iPad - the ease with which you can switch between recordings, watch video alongside text, and bring up different recordings all make use of the iPad's features and the simultaneity of different media the iPad allows for that you just can't get as easily on a Pc.
(Screenshot from the Apple website, where more info and screenshots are available)
It strikes me that this would be a very useful teaching tool - recordings and manuscript versions are resources that I use in teaching Ginsberg's Howl, and having such an app would handily cut out the sometimes tedious work of compiling resources before a class- no more trawling the internet to find the best recording, or trying to get a good photocopy of poor-quality manuscript pages, it's all just there and readily available on an easily portable object. But the size of the iPad and it's lack of connectivity to an external device means this isn't going to work for anything more than a seminar, and even then it's limited if you want the students to interact with their own copy of the material; and once the students leave the classroom it's useless unless they own iPads (and if they did, would I recommend they buy the iPad edition over the printed text? Unlikely).
I also wonder at how far the usefulness of these extra materials goes; visual and auditory media might stimulate some aspects of seminar discussion, and having annotations for a complex text like The Waste Land are undoubtely valuable in freeing-up discussion time that might otherwise be spent simply explaining the many references and intertextual points; so with a text like this, you can cut out some of that textual work and move more swiftly to the critical analysis. But at the end if all this, it's the text itself that really matters and the students' interpretations and responses to that which I'm really interested in getting to in the seminar - the extra media and material provides the stimulus for that, but I wonder if having all of this in such a format enables or inhibits the individual response? Is this all that different to the usual scholarly annotated edition? It feels to me as though having all of this material compiled together might somewhat inhibit the student response outside of those parameters- there seems to be something formalised and thus limiting about the material being set in screen, as though this is all the "right" material that one needs to understand the text, perhaps? There's also something about the barrier I feel this puts between the reader and text - from my brief experiences in reading on the iPad for my own research, I do feel at one remove from the text; without getting all nostalgic about the look and feel of a book, you can't scribble notes or underline the etext, it doesn't feel you can make it your own in the same way. And although there's an ease to reading and moving around material quickly on the iPad screen, the easy skimming through the text further encourages a move away from slow and detailed reading and the response that such a reading generates.
Despite these reservations I'd certainly be willing to give this a go if there was a similar app for a text I teach, and it'd be interesting to see if this could enhance teaching and learning, and how students and tutors might use this as a starting-point for more interactive work.
May 12, 2011
This picture shows the presents that I (rather unexpectedly!) received from my (wonderful, generous) parents for completing my PhD. In the top right is, quite recognisably, an iPad: the future - or is it present? - of publishing. And the aged book and blue pamphlet next to it? That's a first edition of Charles Dickens's Little Dorrit (1857) and one of the original serialised parts (No. XI, October 1856).
The contrast between these gifts couldn't be more apparent, the past and future of the history of the book; and questions around the history and development of the book have been very much on my mind this week following the "What is Academic Writing" session run by IATL on Monday. In a day of interesting talks, it was Richard Miller's discussion of writing instruction in the US which stuck with me, focusing as it did on the shift to new media and what this means for writing. Using images from Al Gore's Our Choice recently published as an eBook app, which makes thoroughly innovative use of interactive features - Miller argued that this is what we are now - or will be, or need to be - writing for; the text is no longer just text, but increasingly embracing not just visual/auditory media, but this entirely responsive interactive style. And this, he stated, was what we now need to be teaching students to write for and with. With the example of his text2cloud blog he showed how he is changing the future of writing instruction by teaching students to work with new media so that their academic essays are written through and for digital technologies. Video, sound, and other audio-visual features were integrated into the text such that these became not just texts for critical reflection but part of the process of analysis themselves.
This raised a lot of interesting ideas about teaching and learning academic writing (and critical thinking more generally), and whilst I'm not convinced that the days of the academic essay are over, there were many discernable advantages that I could see in this, not least getting students really engaged in the writing process - not just focusing on the end product for the final mark, but really getting involved in critical analysis in a much more involved and responsive way. The open-endedness of the project seemed particularly valuable - that students continued to work on pieces past submission deadline because, as Miller pointed out, thinking doesn't stop the moment the piece is turned in (or at least, we'd hope it doesn't! hence the value of actively enabling that on-going process). The lingering question for me was whether the advent of new media needs to signal the end of the academic essay in the way Miller suggests; why does new media need to be positioned as diametrically opposed to the traditional academic essay? Can't all of this fantastic work also develop into a reinvigorated approach to "traditional" academic writing? There's a lot of value in the crafting of argument and reflective processes that enable that, which the immediacy of new media doesn't seem to allow for.
All of which I'm still mulling over as this academic year ends and fresh opportunities for teaching hopefully await at the end of the summer. But in the meantime there were some more immediately resonant questions about the history of the book and where we're at with the move into the digital age, especially as I sit here with Dickens and the iPad side by side. The literary student in me wants to resist the move to the digital age, no more so than when handling a 160-year old copy of my favourite novel, in all its sturdy weightiness. I can't help but feel guilty at downloading a book or two onto the iPad, which feels like another nail in the coffin for the physical book, even though it's justifiably so much easier when your research largely focuses on 800-page novels. And what about this idea of writing for this new form of reading, crafting academic work into a form that not only embraces but is specifically designed for new technologies, which really seems like the final nail in the coffin for print publication, as though we're thoroughly capitulating to digital media and decrying the end of the book as we know it.
But then the periodical pamphlet is a stark reminder that perhaps all of this is just sentimentalising the book, because the core concept here is nothing new: as the periodical reminds us, writing has always adapted to and embraced new forms. With the advent of serial publication, Dickens and others experimented with writing that was specifically crafted to the new possibilities this raised, utilising the formal qualities that the material format both enabled and delimited. (And if we bemoan the presence of targeted adverts on every webpage, the 27 (!) pages of advertising that precede and commence the pamphlet again stand as testament that this is nothing new!) Going further back, too, the development of writing has always been dependent on the material conditions of the book, evolving and adapting to new forms of print publication. The written text itself isn't a "natural" product, it's a cultural artifact, and writing is always a historically and materially conditioned process. So whilst it's easy to despair as paper gives way to screen, perhaps it's not so much the end of the book but just another stage in the evolution of what a book is, what it can do, and the possibilities it offers us as writers.