{"title":"思考的好方法","authors":"Marjorie B. Garber","doi":"10.1632/PROF.2008.2008.1.11","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"The topic of the Presidential Forum for 2007, \"The Humanities at Work in the World,\" led me to reflect on a number of moments in my own career, as well as on a set of literary texts that engage?and provoke?thought on this question. Before I turn directly to the implications of my title, \"Good to Think With,\" I will frame my argument with a personal anecdote and then with a fairy tale. It will be clear, I believe, that these two narratives are versions of the same story. When I was in college, I was seized with the idea that I needed to be doing something more important and meaningful than studying English literature. It was the sixties, after all. So I looked up the address of an agency in New York City that arranged for American students to emigrate and do work in another country. I was full of idealism, optimism, energy. I arrived for my appointment and sat across the desk from a woman who was organizing such arrangements. My idea was to get closer to the soil, perhaps, and to the people. So I burst out with my ideas about farming, building, and clearing the land. \"Do you have any experience with these things?\" she asked. (At this distance I can't recall whether she asked gently or pointedly?but in any case I began, dimly, to get the point.) \"Have you ever worked on a farm or built a house?\" No, I confessed. Not yet. But I could learn. \"What do you know how to do?\" she asked. \"I study English literature,\" I said, rather haltingly. Poetry and novels and plays. But I could","PeriodicalId":86631,"journal":{"name":"The Osteopathic profession","volume":"21 1","pages":"11-20"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2008-12-16","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"22","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Good to Think With\",\"authors\":\"Marjorie B. Garber\",\"doi\":\"10.1632/PROF.2008.2008.1.11\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"The topic of the Presidential Forum for 2007, \\\"The Humanities at Work in the World,\\\" led me to reflect on a number of moments in my own career, as well as on a set of literary texts that engage?and provoke?thought on this question. Before I turn directly to the implications of my title, \\\"Good to Think With,\\\" I will frame my argument with a personal anecdote and then with a fairy tale. It will be clear, I believe, that these two narratives are versions of the same story. When I was in college, I was seized with the idea that I needed to be doing something more important and meaningful than studying English literature. It was the sixties, after all. So I looked up the address of an agency in New York City that arranged for American students to emigrate and do work in another country. I was full of idealism, optimism, energy. I arrived for my appointment and sat across the desk from a woman who was organizing such arrangements. My idea was to get closer to the soil, perhaps, and to the people. So I burst out with my ideas about farming, building, and clearing the land. \\\"Do you have any experience with these things?\\\" she asked. (At this distance I can't recall whether she asked gently or pointedly?but in any case I began, dimly, to get the point.) \\\"Have you ever worked on a farm or built a house?\\\" No, I confessed. Not yet. But I could learn. \\\"What do you know how to do?\\\" she asked. \\\"I study English literature,\\\" I said, rather haltingly. Poetry and novels and plays. But I could\",\"PeriodicalId\":86631,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"The Osteopathic profession\",\"volume\":\"21 1\",\"pages\":\"11-20\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.0000,\"publicationDate\":\"2008-12-16\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"22\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"The Osteopathic profession\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.1632/PROF.2008.2008.1.11\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"\",\"JCRName\":\"\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"The Osteopathic profession","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1632/PROF.2008.2008.1.11","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
The topic of the Presidential Forum for 2007, "The Humanities at Work in the World," led me to reflect on a number of moments in my own career, as well as on a set of literary texts that engage?and provoke?thought on this question. Before I turn directly to the implications of my title, "Good to Think With," I will frame my argument with a personal anecdote and then with a fairy tale. It will be clear, I believe, that these two narratives are versions of the same story. When I was in college, I was seized with the idea that I needed to be doing something more important and meaningful than studying English literature. It was the sixties, after all. So I looked up the address of an agency in New York City that arranged for American students to emigrate and do work in another country. I was full of idealism, optimism, energy. I arrived for my appointment and sat across the desk from a woman who was organizing such arrangements. My idea was to get closer to the soil, perhaps, and to the people. So I burst out with my ideas about farming, building, and clearing the land. "Do you have any experience with these things?" she asked. (At this distance I can't recall whether she asked gently or pointedly?but in any case I began, dimly, to get the point.) "Have you ever worked on a farm or built a house?" No, I confessed. Not yet. But I could learn. "What do you know how to do?" she asked. "I study English literature," I said, rather haltingly. Poetry and novels and plays. But I could