Thursday, 11 December 2008

Essays, Essays, Essays


Apologies for the lack of posts in recent weeks. It's all been a tad hectic with essay after essay after essay and whilst I have been spending an awful lot of time at my laptop I've been looking a bit like this. But, I've just finished (about 30 mins ago) and have one day of fun in London before coming home for the holidays. Tonight, though, celebration: 'Ben & Jerry's' and a DVD. 

Four weeks, four essays: 

  1. 'What Is War'? (Not crime)
  2. 'Was Ideology a Motivating Factor for Civil War Soldiers Both North and South?' (Yes)
  3. 'In Nationalism Still a Cause for War?' (Yep)
  4. 'What Limited "Limited" Wars in the 18th Century?' (To the extent that they were limited at all: the aims of the monarchs)
Four weeks, four essays, four very different topics! 

Happy holidays!

Tuesday, 4 November 2008

A Plea to Philosophers

  • Please, please stop writing pages and pages at the beginning of articles comprising solely of unanswered questions. We're all trying to answer these questions too, that is why we're reading your article so, if you could just stop with the unnecessarily confusing rhetoric and ANSWER THE QUESTIONS it really would make everyone's life a great deal easier.
  • Stop asking us to 'suppose'. In the last ten pages I've been a conventional soldier, a terrorist, an unsuspecting passer-by in the way of a rampaging trolley and an innocent picnicker about to be squashed by an exceedingly fat man- if this goes on much longer I'm going to develop a multiple personality disorder and, frankly I don't have nearly enough time to waste playing make-believe. You should feel free to go off and do all the supposing you like (in all likelihood you already have at least one psychological disorder and surely plenty of free time... you are, after all, a philosopher!) get back to me when you've come up with a conclusion. 
  • Please refrain from using three pages where one sentence would suffice. 
  • Stop inventing new words: just because they are unpronounceable, have more than ten syllables and are pretending to be derived from several Greek words does not add legitimacy to your claim. They don't exist, they're a figment of your stratospherically aloof imagination, just because you think you know what you mean does not mean that everyone/anyone else does.
And finally, 

  • Do try very hard (I know it's difficult) to link your ideas together in some way, however tenuous. 

Saturday, 25 October 2008

Becoming a Londoner....




Giles told me that I couldn't consider myself to be a Londoner until I could use the London bus system. 
I still don't think I can call myself a Londoner for any number of reasons but it's good to know that I am at least starting to come to terms with this first requirement. 
The little bus in the picture above picks me up from right outside my campus every ten minutes and, with a swipe of an oyster card, takes me almost all the way home. 


Wednesday, 22 October 2008


I may be wrong but I'm fairly certain that this was the bridge that had to be closed shortly after its official opening because it was wobbling too much....

Sunday, 19 October 2008

A Humane and Mature Study of War




When you tell someone that you are reading for a degree in War Studies you get, more or less, one of two reactions: the assumption that it is a 'doss' degree, higher education's answer to the Sociology A Level, or the assumption that you must somehow be an inherently violent type to actively wish to study such a horrific occurrence. Sometimes you get both reactions. Very, very occasionally you'll come across someone who actually knows what they are talking about and you'll get an enthusiastic and positive response. 
It seems to be something you have to get used to, certainly, it is not just the little BA students who fall prey to these attitudes. Ask any member of the department- right up to the lofty professorial levels- and they will immediately empathize with you. 
The latter reaction is more obviously and immediately illogical and close-minded. War is a continuing and extraordinarily influential social phenomenon, an interest in it surely betrays not a hidden violent streak but an acknowledgement and awareness of its importance in shaping society and a recognition of the role it has played and continued to play in the workings of the world. 
There are historians who specialise in studying the Holocaust and doctors who dedicate their lives to the study of all sorts of maladies and yet their academic interests, awful, violent, cruel and horrifying though they may be, are deemed not only acceptable but laudable. 'Don't mention the war' seems to have turned into: 'Don't mention any war, ever!' It may not be a particularly cheerful topic but adopting the ostrich technique isn't beneficial, war plays far too significant a role for us to hope that it will go away by itself if we ignore it for long enough. 
In his closing remarks after Howard's lecture, Professor Sir Lawrence Freedman thanked him for showing that: 'a humane study of war is possible.' War may be appalling, but that doesn't mean that the act of studying it is!

As for the first reaction, well, that is equally close-minded but reflects a commonly held view in certain circles. One of our lecturers told us in our very first lecture of the degree that at a conference he had been at not long ago an eminent historian said: 'Finally, finally it's starting to be accepted that one can be a mature, well adjusted, adult human being being with an interest in war.' What he meant, translated the lecturer, was that: 'Military history is no longer seen solely as the preserve of teenagers talking about tanks and guns whilst rolling dice in an effort to take over the world.' I think it quite unlikely that I was the only one in the room smirking  slightly at the memory of only a few nights before when a dozen or so of us ate dinner together before breaking out the Risk board. However, given that, as far as I can see, never in the history of academia have students been seen as mature or well adjusted or adults or, indeed, humans I don't think we serve to negate the historian's point. 
What he was getting at was that military history is finally starting to be seen as a real discipline. It has long been, and in many of the stuffier academic circles still is, greatly looked down upon by the historians proper and the lecturer assured us that were you to go into a history department and introduce yourself as a military historian the reaction would not necessarily be a positive one. 
There are several reasons behind this, most of them unconvincing, and there are numerous rebuttals, most of them convincing, which I am not particularly inclined to go into now but one thing does strike me about this attitude: its startling detachment from the real world. Go into the history section of any good bookstore and you cannot help but notice the popularity of military history amongst the general public. Most stores even have a separate military history section. This is the history the average layman finds interesting. This is what they want to read for fun. 
Does this mean that every interested individual, regardless of their education, is necessarily immature? Or might it possibly show an awareness of the influence of war over the ages and a subsequent desire to know more? 
I'm leaning towards the latter option and perhaps if those historians proper would clamber down from their ivory towers they might too. 
 

Thursday, 2 October 2008

For Want Of A Rolling Pin!




On Tuesday afternoon I was sent off on a quest to find, and purchase, a rolling pin so that my friend in the flat below, a rather wonderful chef, could make an apple and plum pie which I would then help her devour. 
A seemingly perfectly easy task. 

You cannot walk more than about 50 metres in the city, where no one actually lives, without coming across a Robert Dyas. Now, I find this somewhat bizarre because what investment banker sits in his office, generally despairing of the world and feeling a tad blue as he watches the stock market dart around all over the place (though mainly, it has to be said, downwards) and thinks: 'You know what would really make me feel better? A brand new spatula' ??? 
However, get down to the parts of London where people actually live such as, say, Southwark and there is no such shop in sight. 
I walked for ages and ages and ages in the pouring rain to find a rolling pin and eventually came home sopping wet, ever so slightly irate but, ultimately, successful. 

And, it was really good pie.... 

Monday, 29 September 2008

Captain Professor Comes to Visit






This evening Professor Sir Michael Howard, the man responsible for establishing the department of war studies at King's College London, returned to give a lecture to his creation for the first time since leaving it to go to Oxford all those many years ago. The main reason for his lecture is that one of his books (described as a 'seminal piece of work' by the head of department at our induction) 'War and the Liberal Conscience' has just been republished but one of my lecturers (Prof. James Gow) admitted that as soon as he realised that Sir Michael had never been back to lecture at the department since his departure he was determined to have him here and the new edition of this book was merely a timely excuse. 
Sir Michael admitted, and it was quite clearly genuine, that he was amazed and deeply humbled by how the department had grown and developed since his time at King's. 

The entire department was out in force for the event- quite possibly the first and last time we will ever see them wearing suits- and I felt like a little girl at Disneyland running after all her favourite characters as I saw these people I knew of only from their work, all chatting away. Of course I knew they worked in the department and I suppose it was only a matter of time before I bumped into one of them: walking along the sixth floor you see their names written on their office doors, their names are in the prospectus and the student handbook, I will even be taught by one of them this year but how exciting to see them all together, subtly pointing and giggling (I think approvingly) at the row of first year BA students who had run to the front of the hall as soon as the door opened so they could get seats right in the first row, up close to the legend whose work we've all read and whose merits are frequently extolled to us, whose legacy, in a strange way, I suppose we are! The eminent, distinguished experts across from the new, green beginners. The decorated brass across from the brand new recruits. 

And the little man, well into his 80s (somebody told us somewhat morbidly to make the most of this experience since we may well never hear him speak again), walking with the help of  a walking stick but not without some difficulty to the podium spoke for an enthralling half an hour before taking questions in a large, powerful voice, his razor sharp mind still clearly very much intact. The room was completely silent as the many, many people (extra chairs had to be set up at the back and a few young students told to go sit on the floor at the side) soaked up every piercing, insightful work the old professor had to offer. 

A really wonderful evening. 
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to Amazon.co.uk to find a book entitled 'Captain Professor' and rather suggest that you do the same....



Notes From A Big City


So, I thought I'd give this blogging thing a go and supplement my various epistles by letting you know some (!) of what I'm getting up to in London.