I rub my eyes and look around the room; it’s cramped and poorly lit. The only thing I can make out is a desk and chair slumped in the corner, illuminated by the glow of a small lamp. I think I can see a shadowy figure hunched over the desk, but to make sure I’m not hallucinating I rub my eyes again. Yes, someone is definitely sitting on the desk, but who could it be? With great caution I tip toe towards the silhouette and reach for the lamp, tilting it slightly so I can cast some light on the sleeping stranger. Wait a minute… it’s me! Another figure emerges out of the shadows, “I believe you are dreaming” the man says, he takes a puff from his pipe and continues, “you were reading some papers and then became distracted and had something to eat, you then came back to your desk and started typing on the computer, which is when you started to drift off into the land of dreams.”
Thick smoke slithers in the air towards me; I wave my hands to ward it off. “So you’ve been watching me this whole time!?” I cough.
The man pauses for a moment, looks at his watch and then back up at me and says “Well, in a way yes, but no, not really.”
I grit my teeth, “That doesn’t even make sense! Who are you?” I demand.
The man contemplates this question, and as he does he splits into two people and then back into one again. “You see, technically I am two people… you are in the process of reading a chapter of my, I mean our book, Passionate Sociology…” The strange man scans my blank face for a hint of excitement. “That’s right, we are Game and Metcalfe!” I return an even blanker stare. I think about how absurd this is all sounding, how I need to wake up from this stupid dream, and why I am even going to uni in the first place. I ready my fingers to pinch myself, but stop when, in the corner of my eye, I notice the figure sleeping over a large pile of papers on the desk. I remember that he, I mean I, was having a hard time making sense of the readings… maybe I should stick around and ask the writers a few questions before I wake myself up. As though the writers could read my thoughts they begin to explain their writings, “you see, ‘in a way this whole book is about the possibilities of alternatives to transparent social science writing. Writing is passionate… [but] most importantly, writing invites us to take pleasure in academic practices of reading and writing’ (Game & Metcalfe, 1996, p. 94-95) I feel laughter bubbling inside me but I supress it, “so you’re saying reading and writing should be pleasurable?”
“That’s right! However, I can see why you might be resistant to this idea. ‘Because of the demand for representation… students rarely associate writing with pleasure, but once the connection between thought and writing is recognised, pleasure is possible’” (Game & Metcalfe, 1996, p. 95)
I begin to ponder how I am ever going to find pleasure in writing academically, memories of writing school essays play in my head like a slideshow; staring at a blank word document for hours, unsure of what to write, was far from pleasurable.
“Ah yes” the man responds, “Your thoughts are valid; you see ‘Bachelard speaks of the blank page giving the right to dream, but I suspect this is not a common experience for students. The clean sheet is so often faced with anxiety invoked by a sense of the invisible authority of academic law.’ (Game & Metcalfe, 1996, p. 93) In your case it is apparent that the blank page literally gave you the right to dream, but not metaphorically as Bachelard was implying!”
A puzzled expression grows on my face, “I see… so I need to be looser with my writing and, as you say, ‘make the pen dance’ (Game & Metcalfe, 1996, p. 87), but how do I do that exactly?”
The man smiles, “Ahh, I am so glad you asked! You see, you have to develop a writing rhythm and movement. When we write ‘we move from word to word, sentence to sentence, setting forth without knowing where or how our writing-journey will end’ (Game & Metcalfe, 1996, p. 99). The writing-journey is one that occurs continuously throughout the day. Even when you are not writing, activities such as walking, swimming or riding build ‘up a rhythm for writing’, so in a sense ‘I am writing while I am moving…, the converse is true too: writing is a movement, and when writing, I am walking, swimming or riding’ (Game & Metcalfe, 1996, p. 97-98)” After hearing those words I am suddenly hit with the understanding I hadn’t discovered at first reading of the text, Game & Metcalfe (1996, p.88) are expressing that writing is ‘an imaginative, creative process’ which must be enjoyed. Writing shouldn’t be confused with writing, as one is transparent, literal and concerned only with facts and representation, while the other is metaphoric and imaginative and concerns itself with flow and feeling. After this moment of realisation the man’s smile turned into a grin and he slowly dissolved back into the shadows. I awoke suddenly on my desk.
REFERENCES:
PIMP FREUD 