Digital Humanities at Geneseo

Regan Russell, Nia Jones, Victoria Slade, Serena Drobnack, Wrileigh Bacon Finding a starting point for this project quickly became the first obstacle that our group encountered. Each chapter of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden has unique paragraphs and changes that would work for this project, so picking just one was a difficult task. Originally our group picked Chapter 16 paragraph 13 and began analyzing and transcribing lines.This paragraph interested us because of the lines “What I have observed of the pond is no less true in ethics. It is the law of average. Such a rule of the two diameters not only guides us toward the sun in the system and the heart in man, but draw lines through the length and breadth of the aggregate of a man’s particular daily behaviors and waves of life into his coves and inlets, and where they intersect will be the height or depth of his character. Perhaps we need only to know how his shores trend and his adjacent country or circumstances, to infer his depth and concealed bottom.” As we began to work on the project we searched for images to utilize for the slides, but quickly realized that the necessary pictures were not available. We had chosen a paragraph that did not have pictures of different versions, we only had one picture to use. This was a large setback for the group, as it meant that we had to restart our entire project and pick a new paragraph to analyze.

Since we had already spent time analyzing Chapter 16 we chose to select a new paragraph within the same chapter. Our newly chosen paragraph was paragraph 4. This paragraph read as “When I strolled around the pond in misty weather I was sometimes amused by the primitive mode which some ruder fisherman had adopted. He would perhaps have placed alder branches over the narrow holes in the ice, which were four or five rods apart and an equal distance from the shore, and having fastened the end of the line to a stick to prevent its being pulled through, have passed the slack line over a twig of the alder, a foot or more above the ice, and tied a dry oak leaf to it, which, being pulled down, would show when he had a bite. These alders loomed through the mist at regular intervals as you walked half way round the pond.” To avoid another roadblock, our first step with the new paragraph was to locate photographs of the paragraph and make sure there were multiple versions available. We were able to find manuscript images of both version F and version G. While these images may be hard to read, the visible changes are still present.

Changes between these two versions are quickly seen, as the very first word in the paragraph changes between versions. Version F begins the paragraph with “Frequently when” but then all following versions begin with “When I”. This change could have been made to remove a limitation that comes with the word “frequently”, with the inclusion of the word the reader interprets that there is a limit or set number of times that the following action has occurred. Thoreau does not want to limit the reader’s interpretation of his words, so he does not disclose to the reader how many times he has strolled around the pond.

Pond in Winter Paragraph 4 Version F

Another significant change between versions is seen in the second sentence of the paragraph between version G and the Princeton version. Version G begins as “He would perhaps have placed an alder branch Over the narrow holes in the ice, which are which were four or 5 rods apart, and an equal distance from the shore, he would perhaps have placed an alder branch” and the Princeton version begins with “ He would perhaps have placed alder branches over the narrow holes in the ice, which were four or five rods apart and an equal distance from the shore,” Even at a glance it is clear that many changes have been made to the beginning of this sentence, as the Princeton version is visually quite shorter than version G. Version G uses words that are associated with the present tense such as “which are” and “he would”, both of these phrases are not featured in the Princeton version. The entire sentence is altered to in the past tense in the Princeton version, now using phrases such as “which were” and eliminating the phrase “he would”. This change to the past tense is an intentional move by Thoreau, the changes portray the nostalgic and daydreaming nature of his thoughts. The sentence is a description of a fisherman ice fishing that he may have seen while strolling by the pond. He does not participate in the fishing of the pond, just watching from afar and taking note of his process. Making this description occur entirely in the past tense shows the reader the extent to which Thoreau appreciates nature and eliminates the idea that Thoreau wishes to participate in the act.

Pond in Winter Paragrah 4 Version G

The paragraph that we chose to analyze truly showed a personal side of Throreau and showcased a small part of his personality. This interested us because it allows for the text to become relatable. While we were searching for a paragraph we read aloud numerous paragraphs that were hard to decipher. Some paragraphs appeared so complex on the surface that time would have been devoted analyzing the content, leaving no time to analyze the changes and choices that Thoreau made. Our chosen paragraph contained a level of complexity that we were able to decipher quickly and analyze the meaning while still leaving ample time to discuss the changes and choices made by him.

Thoreau’s intense appreciation for nature is shown through the way he describes the fisherman’s actions and the absence of his desire to participate in that activity and similar activities. This is part of the reason that our group gravitated toward this paragraph after our initial paragraph fell through. The initial pull to this paragraph came from the number of visible changes and words crossed off in between versions. But as we read through and discussed the contents of the paragraph we realized that this paragraph was an excellent example of intentional changes made by Thoreau to portray his internal thoughts and the overall message that he intended to send to the reader. His changes in this paragraph also portray his desire for some interpretation to be up to the reader. Thoreau makes many intentional points, but at times it is up to the reader to decide what he meant and decipher meanings from stories that can correlate to their own lives. Though we are all college students who may not be surrounded by nature daily, we all could find some piece of Walden that resonates with us and could be seen in our lives. The analysis of Walden and spending much time with paragraph 4 in chapter 16 has increased our understanding of Thoreau and his narrative choices throughout the text.

I think that the biggest “concrete” skill that I’ve gained so far is a meager level of comfort in playing with code. Before this class, I only really messed with “code” in the sense of modding games and sometimes messing with “inspect element” in Chrome just for fun, but that was never really something that I did intentionally. There are a lot of rules and specific ways to write things that was really intimidating to me. I am much more comfortable with this now, especially from having to do the daily journals, even though I frequent the course page to circle back and double check myself.

One of the most important things to me that I’ve garnered from this course ties into what I said above: I feel like I’m much less “scared” of my computer now. I feel a little bit less like I’m blindly trudging through stuff when I try to move files around or download something. I also feel a little bit silly with how much is automated for me when I try to do something as easy as open a Google doc or something- it was so much more complicated and involved on older computers to do literally anything. It gives me some perspective and even makes me feel a little bit bad when I’m impatient with my parents for trying to figure out technology that is second nature to me.

Not that I didn’t really see it before, but I also have a newfound appreciation for people who transcribe and digitize archives. Those people do not get paid ANYWHERE near enough money for what they do. I rely heavily on Gutenberg and JSTOR for both research and fun reading, and without those transcriptions of text I wouldn’t be able to access so many things that I both need and enjoy. I’ve been using Gutenberg since I had a nook tablet back in 2013 and I have remained a loyal user now through my Kindle, and I recommend it to EVERYONE. This class has made me pay closer attention to translation/transcription differences (as well as how each re-reading feels to me) I’ve seen between different versions and modalities of texts I’ve read- for example, I read the Prime Digital Classics version of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “This Side of Paradise” in the airport over the holidays, and then read it on Gutenberg and in a pdf scan of the original book for a class. I honestly preferred the Kindle version, but for the sake of page numbers I used the scanned one and for the sake of copying and pasting for quotes I used the Gutenberg version. Each modality of the text has its strengths and weaknesses.

Sitting alongside nature isn’t a place that I find myself often. Nature is more of a backdrop. The background scene of an event I’ve been waiting for, or the pretty colors behind me in a photo. I can appreciate the beauty that surrounds me, but never take special care to spend intimate time within it.

I tried to think of a place where words would come freely to me in nature, and found myself stuck in the memories that existed within these locations, rather than the intricate beauties that exist among them. The trees in my backyard that remained the backdrop of each graduation photo. The gazebo on the south side of campus where I first met the strangers that would become my best friends. I wondered why the memories clouded the beauty of every scenery to me.

For this reason I took this trip alone. I thought about bringing my boyfriend, or one of my roomates and making a day out of it, but decided that I would instead spend the day with nature.

I searched for a spot that I’d never seen before. One that would be fresh and wiped clean of memory. A place I could truly take in and appreciate. This place ended up being Kenosia Park in Rochester. A massive stretch of grass, littered with picnic tables, and spotted with people on brightly colored blankets staring into the sky.

I found my own spot among the people. A small park bench secluded by two massive trees that faced straight towards the water. The sound of others was low here, and I found myself listening for the hustle and bustle I’m so accustomed to. Instead of the typical babies crying, and people laughing I was greeted by a low humming sound. This humming came from the very top of one of my neighboring trees, the subtle movements of tiny insects blitzing their way around the very top of the trunks.

These insects were grouped together, forming a small circle at the top of the tree, looking down upon me as I gazed up towards them. I couldn’t remember the last time I truly noticed these tiny creatures, small pieces of a massive world in which they can simply shoot from place to place, barely being noticed. Quiet observers of a world occupied by bigger and more extravagent creatures. I wondered how it would feel to be an unnoticed visitor amongst an everchanging scenery.

The insects zipped down towards the water, the sun gleaming into the wide expanse of blue that laid in front of me. I looked past the lake, noticing the houses that were speckled across the land across from me. Houses that grew up long after the lake did. Families that came and went. Kids that learned to swim. The lake was a piece of these people. A constant in a world of chaos.

I realized in this moment the rarity that exists within every piece of nature. The backdrop that we constantly surround ourselves in, but never take the time to fully immerse ourselves in.

Just as the trees in my backyard signify each of my graduating years, they signify someone elses broken arm, or the spot where they had their first kiss. Memory is intrisincally connected to nature for humans. The everchanging scenery of the next event or milestone, but also a whole unspoken world left to be painted as the backdrop.

I will start this blog post off by saying that I sort of did this assignment twice. I did go to the arboretum with my fellow gramaicsy members on great day, but I also was lucky enough to go down to Florida a few weeks ago with my girlfriend, so I will talk a bit about both of those experiences. Also, here’s an image, maybe. It looks like an image in my preview, but not when I publish. I dunno man, I’ll figure it out later.

The Arboretum

As a commuter I spend a lot less time on campus than most students. The Arboretum took me a bit to find, and by the time I got there I was already 30 minutes later than when my group had planned to meet initially. Thankfully, I was still the first one there. Waiting in the gazebo was the perfect oppurtunity for me to stew in the thick fog of that day. Most folks probably wouldn’t have liked the weather, it was cold, gray, the kind where it’s hard to tell if you’re feeling the beginnings of rain or just the crisp air, but those are the days I feel most welcomed by nature. As much as I appreciate the sun and all the life it brings, the light and heat bring a lot of discomfort for me. But the gray days, where the sky is like a pillow and I can bundle up exactly to my liking, those are the days I treasure.

What I heard most of all as I sat in the Gazebo was the rustling of the barren trees in the wind, dead leaves skating across eachother, with the odd low creak, probably coming from the Gazebo itself. It may just be because I rewatched them recently, but it reminded me of the Entmoot from The Two Towers. I was eavesdropping on a conversation between the Gazebo and the woods surrounding it. It reminded me of what I’d imagine it must sound like to be in a large ship, where your seemingly static surroundings are constantly shifting ever so slightly around you.

After maybe 10 minutes of waiting, everybody else showed up. The others were understandably cold and uncomfortable, my dreary days aren’t for everyone. We exchanged some anecdotes, poked around the garden, showed eachother pictures of our families. It was nice to engage in some small way with the campus life I am otherwise quite removed from. I don’t often feel the sense of community I hear folks talk about, but that day I felt like I was part of one, maybe even two of them, just for a moment.

Orlando

My days were quite busy in Orlando, I didn’t get much time to sit in nature and relax. That being said, I still saw plenty. Lizards running around everywhere took some getting used to. The heat was brutal, even on the cooler days. What really got me though, was the birds. I know, it’s such a small thing, and I doubt I’ll be able to really express why they stood out to me the way they did, but I’ll try.

The uncanny valley is a term that I’m most familier with being used in the world of visual effects. If you don’t know, the uncanny valley is a figurative place where things that seem almost normal, but not quite. You may not be able to put your finger on exactly what is different, but you know there is something. For example, think about those weird AI feuled robots with silicon faces, or that makeup trend on tiktok (I don’t use tiktok, please don’t shame me if this trend is no longer a thing).

For my first few days in Florida, the birds all gave me this feeling. Honestly, I thought at first I might’ve been getting the dose wrong on my medication. Whenever I caught them flying, something seemed off. When I could hear them in the parks, they sounded almost like recordings, not quite real.

By the last full day of my trip, I realized what had changed. I was walking through a park with my girlfriend, one she’d walked with her mom as a kid. There we caught a glimpse of a bird, one I hadn’t seen before. It was the most red bird I’d ever seen in my life, I didn’t know birds could get that red. Then it hit me, something that was quite obvious but I just hadn’t considered; Florida has different birds than New York. They’re still birds, they do bird things, they’re not completely alien or anything, but they were just different enough for me, who’s left New York for a total of maybe just over a week since I was 3, to notice.

I’m not sure I can say for certain what all of these differences were, especially since I only registered how these birds were different the afternoon before we left, but it was, sort of embarassingly, one of the coolest parts of the whole trip for me.

Today wasn’t what I initially expected. I impulsively went to the airplane museum and to lay in the fields. I drove down the rocky dirt road that stretched out to the ongoing horizon. The trees, finally now in bloom, curled overtop, encomasping my car in a natural tunnel. I parked by the war planes from prior generations and set up camp underneath the biggest wing. I first laid on my blanket and ate Taco bell, (which is not the most natural of meals) but I digress. If I had to guess, the field stretches just shy of a mile long, which is pretty far when its a flat, unobstructed view. The sun was just about to set in the west, resting above the treetops. Its finally spring, and I can feel the world coming to life again. After a ‘nourishing’ meal I knew I was ready to tap into my inner Thoreau. I walked out a few yards, far enough to feel surrounded by open space. I laid on my back, and hushed the voice in my head freaking out about the grass in my hair and ants crawling up my ankle. I closed my eyes and clenched tufts of grass in my calloused hands. I took deep, intentional, breaths, until they slowed down just enough to be in sync with the rythym of the deafaning cicadas. It was in this very moment, when I let my mind, my skepticism and fear, quiet just enough to hear the beauty of the world around me, that sent icy shivers rushed down my spine- this is when I truly felt alive. I stayed in the moment for as long as I could, until the incessantly impatient tap of the ‘real world’ pulled me out of this nirvana state of mind. I am very thankful to have done this assignment, not only because it was fun, but because it made me engage with the world around me. At the end of the day, college should be about preparing us for the ‘real world’, and it doesn’t get more real than this!

Hello!

First of all, I cannot seem to figure out how to get my image in here, as it says it is too big – I have tried reducing the size of it (similar to how we did so in class) and cannot seem to figure it out! That’s why I have a link attached to this post – let me know if it takes you to the image as it is supposed to!

Anyway, something which I have been talking about with my friends a lot is the way in which we all feel so much better at this time of year (particularly Daylight Saving Time, which was March 10 this year. Of course, there have been several studies on seasonal depression and other related mental illness which can be triggered and attributed to short and cold days. However, it always seems like such a surprise when the time of year rolls around and we all start to feel so much better, even if we don’t feel as though we were in a necessarily bad place in the winter time.

I think a lot of the reasoning behind this is that the sad, slow, cold, dark, monotonous winter (can you guess my least favorite season of the year?) slowly gets people to settle into a different lifestyle: one which exists mostly indoors, with nighttime routines taking place much sooner, and much less time spent with nature in general. I think this all happens so routinely and gradually that a lot of the time, we don’t even notice that it’s happening. I believe that this is telling not only of seasonal shifts in mood but with a lot of mental health ebbs and flows. It is hard to notice the sort of place I am in until I realize how much better I feel once I begin spending some more time outdoors and enjoying longer days.

Another thing which I have always associated with happier times and good weather is the migration of birds back into our area. Going outside and hearing birds chirping and feeling the sun on our faces is such a wonderful feeling every year, and usually leads me to realizing that my baseline mood for the winter is not the same as it is in the summer.

On popular social media apps such as TikTok and Instagram, there are trending “sounds,” or audios which people use on their videos of birds chirping. The videos under these sounds typically deal with nostalgic aspects of childhood, getting the viewer to reminisce about playing outdoors as a child. There seems to be a general link between birds and happiness, often accompanied with nostalgic undertones.

I find this very interesting, as I find myself reminiscing each year as the days get longer. In fact, one of the most surefire ways I know that summer is approaching is when I go outside for the first time, breathe in a breath of fresh air, and think to myself that I feel eight years old again.

Overall, I feel as though a lot of people can probably relate to this, though we don’t usually talk about it as much (potentially because we don’t realize how much these things affect us). The picture I have attached below is of three birds which I saw perched in a tree when I was on a walk the other day. They reminded me of the summers of my youth and how good it feels to be outside.

Thanks for reading and let me know if you can see my picture with the link!

https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=394174af4b&attid=0.1&permmsgid=msg-a:r4984978039260014532&th=18f1d19167485519&view=fimg&fur=ip&sz=s0-l75-ft&attbid=ANGjdJ-Y6GCd-GBJh0oCGLgwzPeP8SfHRxH2CDRkjgQhPs7F210wm_C69_OYfpX8kyQz6s4MX0K84HjPWctZOmVbHhJMhS-BkOGlMQTe5Rfj0SDMG0bmObeeDeFMEhs&disp=emb&realattid=18f1d19033456301e8a1