A Poetry Researcher’s Field Day

One might assume that literature research would not necessitate fieldwork, but sometimes it is useful to those of us working with such esoteric topics as contemporary US poetry as well. In early May, I visited the State University of New York at Buffalo, and particularly their library’s Poetry Collection, in search of more materials for my research project, Difficult Relations: Reading for Emotion in Recent American Experimental Poetry.

SUNY-Buffalo, or UB as the locals like to call it, hosts the Poetry Collection, “the library of record for 20th- and 21st-century poetry in English”. The collection, started by Charles Abbott in 1937, is hidden away from the public in closed stacks, so visitors desiring to peruse books have to give a list to the staff, and they will pull it out for use in the library’s reading room. Like in many archives and special collections, use of the materials requires care, and only computers or pencils can be used for note-taking. Photographs are not allowed without special permission.

The reading room is a large hall, guarded over by a portrait of James Joyce. Incidentally, the UB Poetry Collection is also home to the world’s largest collection of Joyce-related materials, like first editions, correspondence, notebooks and photographs. Oscar Silverman, who worked at UB, had visited a Joyce exhibition in Paris in 1949 and got the idea to bring the collection to UB. Joyce is a pervasive presence in the Poetry Collection reading room, watching over it all like a grandfather of modern English literature that he is.

My 10 day visit to Buffalo was a handy one-stop method for browsing through many important works published in the last 15 years or so. Many of these were published in limited editions or are otherwise difficult to find from overseas. While I order what I can from online stores, it was very useful to have it all at my disposal at once. It also allowed me to observe the sheer materiality of recent poetry works, viewing as I did items ranging from large anthologies and collections to thin and plain chapbooks and even little cards on which poems had been printed. In a tangible way, it brought the liveliness of contemporary poetry culture into view.

UB is also home to a fairly substantial population of Canada geese, one of which is pictured here.

Text and photo by Elina Siltanen

Eating elephants

Nearly 1.5 years into my doctoral studies, I have already encountered some sort of block. Things are just not progressing the way I would like, something is not working. I feel like I have read every possible piece of available research about my topic but starting the first article seems like a horrendous endeavor. What am I doing? Where do I start? What perspective should I take? Am I prepared enough? Do I have the concepts right? Maybe I should just make another cup of tea…

A couple of days before the event that was to take place on March 21,2019, I received an e-mail stating that there were places still available in the Finding joy and productivity in academic writing lecture and workshop. Guest lecturer Carol Kiriakos, co-author of Tohtoritakuu, was to speak about practical approaches to academic writing. My first thought was, “This is scary!” Can you imagine? This was exactly what I needed, and here it was in my mailbox, and none too soon as the event was in just two days! I was not really sure what the ‘practical approaches’ might entail, but the words ‘joy’ and ‘productivity’ were what really caught my eye. Could I really find joy in my situation of ‘rookie’s block’, and could I ever become productive in my revelry of procrastination?

Carol Kiriakos provided answers to both questions, “Yes and yes.” First, you have to take an inventory of your beliefs; what beliefs do you have about yourself or your writing that keep you from writing? Participants took a few minutes to write down their beliefs, and to my astonishment, we were all struggling with the same issues: getting started, time management, insecurities pertaining to abilities, being prepared, procrastination, lack of inspiration, etc., etc. At this point, the group of participants became a united whole – we were all in the same boat struggling in the same weather to keep it afloat.

Once you are aware of what is keeping you from writing, you need to create a writing habit. At what time of day do you feel the most creative or productive? A rule of thumb is the further the day progresses, the less creative and productive we become because other things begin competing for our attention. How much should you write at one go? Kiriakos warned us not to set ourselves up for failure. If you plan to write 5 pages on a certain day and do not achieve that goal, most likely you are going to feel like you have failed and starting the writing process again may take an unnecessary number of days or weeks.

The third thing, and perhaps the most important, you should do is learn how to eat an elephant. Well? How DO you eat an elephant? According to Kiriakos, the answer is: One bite at a time. For example, if you write in your calendar “PhD thesis” for every day you would have time to work on it (as I have done and now have a lot of erasing to do), you are setting yourself up for failure. Not only is it impossible to write a PhD thesis in a day, but you are also creating the feeling that you never get anything done. A more sensible approach would be to write, “1 page for Section 2.2.”, for example, or simply “one paragraph”. The same idea can be used for setting goals, i.e. break them down into smaller bites. For example: long-term goal (months to years) -> short-term goal (weeks to months) -> daily goal (hours to days).

To combat procrastination, i.e. always waiting for inspiration or the ‘right moment’ to write, Kiriakos suggested free-writing. During the lecture and workshop, we participants engaged in two free-writing sessions, both lasting about ten minutes. Free-writing was a surprisingly good way to get into the ‘habit’ of writing. We were given a topic each time: The Ideal Academic Writer and The Most Important Thing to Me. Both topics also gave us a bone to chew, which helped us to process the beliefs we have of ourselves. When doing free-writing on your own, you do not necessarily need a topic; on the other hand, having a topic may get you put your thoughts in order. You need to set a timer, so you do not have to look at the clock, and then just write about the ideas or topics you have for writing your thesis on that particular day. With free-writing, you can find that inspiration, and the moment you sit down to free-write is exactly the ‘right moment’ you keep waiting for.
I left the workshop feeling I had eaten my elephant, or at least cut it down into smaller, more manageable pieces. Feeling inspired by Kiriakos and getting the push I needed to start writing, I decided to share my experience here. I recommend reading Tohtoritakuu to BA students , MA students, even to the experts whose doctoral hat is worn around the edges and whose sword has defended truth and knowledge many times over. It contains useful strategies for anyone contending with an elephant…. One bite at a time.

Text by Judi Rose

Hamlet in Turku

The Department paid a visit to see Hamlet in the Turku City Theatre in March 2019. The production has garnered good reviews both by critics and audiences, and it was great to have an opportunity to see it, especially as the season is, alas, short.

SPOILER ALERT – what happens in Hamlet

If you like to keep up suspense, do not read further as I am about to give some spoilers. First of all, Hamlet’s father’s death turns out to have been murder by poison rather than an accidental snakebite. There are also other deaths: Ophelia, Polonius, and – in the end – practically everybody dies. (Not Horatio, though.)

This is good for the undertaker’s business – in the show presented in a very provoking, even thought-provoking way.

One of the most striking elements in the Turku Hamlet is the set. It combines traditional and contemporary elements in a very inventive way. In the programme booklet, the scenographer Markus Tsokkinen comments on the Finnish terms for building the set – ‘lavastaa’ and ‘kulissit’ – as derogatory terms for deception whereas he considers the set a way to enhance the truth elements of a play. Considering this, the amalgamation of old and new functions very well in bringing Shakespeare’s vision to us today.

Hamlet is one of the Bard’s big tragedies. In Finland it has been produced almost once in a decade after the first production in 1906, and it has been translated several times: by Paavo Cajander (1879), Yrjö Jylhä (1955), Lauri Sipari (1975), Eeva-Liisa Manner (1981), Veijo Meri (1982) and Matti Rossi (2013). The Turku Hamlet is based on Manner’s translation but with noticeable changes in the dialogue.

For a tragedy, Paavo Westerberg has direected a highly humorous – but in no way banal – version of Hamlet’s story. (Although Yorick might disagree.) It is multimedial, multilingual, intertextual, intermedial, intercultural – in short, multi-inter!

One of the most surprising things, personally, was Claudius. Eero Aho’s acting here was excellent, but Carl-Kristian Rundman as Polonius (very much like Gollum), Pia Andersson as Ophelia (rebel girl) and, especially, Jussi Nikkilä as Hamlet were even better. (Esko Salminen’s ghostly presence as Hamlet’s father’s ghost is also brilliant.)

To conclude, you would love to see the way they have done “To be or not to be” …

Text by Joel Kuortti
Photo by Otto-Ville Väätäinen/Turku City Theatre

Philologists in Edinburgh

The International Conference on English Historical Linguistics (ICEHL) was organised for the 20th time in Edinburgh on 27–30 August. The conference gathers together English scholars from around the world, studying English from Old to Late Modern.

Almost all of our researchers from the Philological Track made it to ICEHL. Matti Peikola, Mari-Liisa Varila, Hanna Salmi (currently at the University of Stockholm), Aino Liira, and Sirkku Ruokkeinen gave papers in the workshop “Paratextual Communication in a Historical Linguistic Perspective”, organised by Matti Peikola and Birte Bös (University of Duisburg-Essen). Matti Peikola and Peter Grund (University of Kansas) presented a paper on orthographical variation together with Johanna Rastas. Aleksi Mäkilähde gave a paper on the metatheory of pragmaphilology. Susanna Mäkinen gave a paper on references to fugitives in runaway slave notices. I gave a paper on the different translations of The Mirror of Alchemy. We were a busy lot!

This was my first ICEHL, but I hope it won’t be the last. The conference was packed astonishingly full of great papers and interesting discussions; the programme can be found here. I have never been to a conference with so many excellent papers on fascinating topics that were relevant for my own research. I was especially excited by papers on topics such as medieval Latin-English code-switching, spelling variation and standardisation in the early modern period, and multilingualism in late modern medical discourse.

Despite the busy academic programme, there was also time for social events. The conference ceilidh on Tuesday 28 August was especially memorable: it was wonderful to dance and to watch a crowd of other scholars skipping merrily along to the live traditional music. Lots of us also found time to climb up to Arthur’s Seat, the majestic hill right next to the conference location.

ICEHL also involved a final day of activities on Friday 31st August. Most of us Turku philologists – unsurprisingly – chose to go to Lindisfarne, the monastic Holy Island where the Anglo-Saxon Lindisfarne Gospels were produced. The weather was astoundingly warm and sunny; we had a glorious day trip filled with island beauty, the island’s old history, and clean sea wind. It was a fitting and excellent ending to a week’s worth of English historical linguistics.

Text by Sara Norja
Photo by Minna Nevala

Introducing our latest permanent staff member: Q&A with Maarit Koponen


Maarit Koponen visiting the Kennedy Space Center.

1. Tell us a little bit of who you are.
I am a university lecturer of English, researcher of translation technology, a former professional translator, and a fan of both historical dramas and science fiction. I have an MA in English Philology and a PhD in Language Technology, both from the University of Helsinki. I live in Helsinki, and commute to Turku, for which reason I feel both profound appreciation and frequent annoyance toward the Finnish railway system.

2. What kinds of courses do you teach? How and when can our students meet you?
I teach English BA-level courses, such as Academic Writing & Speaking and Grammar 2, and various translation and technology courses on the Multilingual Translation Studies MA track. Currently my office hours are on Thursdays, 11-12, but that tends to change in different semesters. Making an appointment by email is a good option.

3. What do you do research on? What would you like to study in future?
My research focuses on translation technology, particularly machine translation, and the effect of technology on translation processes – how they produce translations. Questions of cognitive processing fascinate me, and in future research I hope to be able to dig deeper into the effect of (machine) translated text quality and errors on cognitive load both for translators and for readers of those texts. How do translators process errors and correct them? How do errors affect the reader response, and how are readers able to recover information even from an imperfect text?

4. Can you describe what a typical working day is like for a lecturer?
Different working days vary a lot, so it is difficult to define a “typical” one. There are days where I am teaching several lectures, or taking part in various meetings, or both, with lots of running in between. There are days preparing lectures and marking student papers. And then there are research days, which may mean staring at an xml file trying to figure out what on Earth is going on with my data, or writing, which may mean either furious typing or staring at a blank page.

5. What do you do when you are not a lecturer? Any time for other things in life?
I enjoy music and dance – I play percussion instruments and go to dance classes to get exercise beyond running between lectures and meetings. For a relaxing evening, I enjoy watching documentaries. My interests range from the history of the English monarchy to dinosaurs to all things space, aliens, conspiracy theories, and true crime, which is occasionally characterized as “baffling and slightly worrisome” by my nearest and dearest.

Philological fieldwork in London and Turku

If you trust Wikipedia, fieldwork refers to “the collection of information outside a laboratory, library or workplace setting”. However, philological ‘fieldwork’ often takes place within a library – but instead of reading secondary literature, we examine primary materials. I’m currently a visiting scholar at Queen Mary University of London. During my stay here, I work on 16th-century manuscripts and printed books in the British Library.

Although early materials are increasingly accessible in digital form, and many early texts are made available in editions, not all research questions can be asked of these substitutes. Codicological, palaeographical, and bibliographical research methods entail close examination of books and texts as material objects. Analysing the physical construction of a book or the scribal hands present in a manuscript, for example, may also provide crucial evidence for studying the contents of a book.

To access special collections, one usually needs to register as a reader (instructions can be found on library websites). After registering, you can then order items to study them in reading rooms. You can bring your laptop, notes, and pencils, but nothing that might damage the books such as pens or sharp implements. White gloves, although sometimes seen on TV, may also cause damage to the books. They are thus generally not used in professional libraries. Clean, dry, and careful hands are the better option!

The University of Turku library also holds early materials. Last spring, students taking the Book History course organised by the Departments of English and European and World History had the chance to try their hand at being book detectives. My small group studied a selection of incunabula (books printed before 1501), practising the specialised skill of writing bibliographical descriptions of early books. Here they are at work!

Text and photo by Mari-Liisa Varila

Soup with Paul Auster


There is something surreal about eating the same soup as Paul Auster. All of a sudden, the intangible, enigmatic, almost disembodied author, whose books I read, whose films I watch and whose activities I follow in the media, is scooping mashed potatoes (and soup) on his plate (not the one that had the soup) at the “grubby little place” (his words, not mine) next to the House of the Estates in Helsinki and ranting enthusiastically about Beckett. Such encounters are, of course, one of the somewhat nerve-racking benefits of studying a living author.

At the turn of August and September 2017, the Finnish Society of Sciences and Letters organized a two-day seminar in honour of Finland’s centenary, titled Open Windows: Democracy, Censorship, Literature. As an avid defender of freedom of expression, a former Vice President of PEN America (2005-2007) and a member of its Board of Trustees (2004-2009), Paul Auster was a most suitable guest of honour.

The seminar begun with Professor Bo Pettersson interviewing Auster on, among other things, his latest novel 4 3 2 1. What struck me the most was the calm yet enthusiastic way Auster approached every question, the passion with which he engaged his work and life in general, the way his speech flowed as eloquently as his writing. I hadn’t really thought what he would be like, but in hindsight, he could not have been more Paul Auster.

The seminar continued with Auster reading passages from 4 3 2 1, but unfortunately he could not stay for the rest of the first day’s presentations. The five or so days he spent in Finland were packed with interviews and other engagements, and he further claimed that the one-month-nine-countries tour would be his last of the kind.


Auster did, however, return on the second day for a panel with the Finnish author Sirpa Kähkönen, pictured above with Auster. Towards the end of the discussion, Auster remarked along these lines:

      Writing a novel is a political act, even if the writer is not conscious of it. Novels are about ordinary lives; authors get to enter the lives of the most ordinary people in the most intimate ways. Literature and writing are, therefore, democratic acts, because even the smallest of lives matter. Literature is a defence against tyranny; in connecting the reader with those who are not yourself, literature creates and teaches empathy. Novels are democracy in action.

This manifesto was accompanied by applause, and I’m sure I witnessed a few in the audience discreetly dab tears from the corners of their eyes.

Text and photos by Ira Hansen

My Days as a Conference Assistant

The Finnish Society for the Study of English (FINSSE) held its eighth biannual conference here in Turku this summer. Having never attended a conference before, I leapt at the opportunity to work as an assistant at the event and get credits for my Master’s internship. I’m glad I did, for The FINSSE-8 conference, “What’s in a Century?”, turned out to be the highlight of my academic year.

The whole experience was very positive. The organising committee welcomed me with open arms; I was given clear instructions as to what was expected of me and in moments of doubt I could simply ask for help. It soon became clear that organising a conference takes hours and hours of planning and preparation. Even I, a mere assistant, sat through several meetings and wrote countless emails. Those in charge certainly had a lot of work on their hands! Funding, venues, catering, timetables, name tags – all the meticulous work done in advance resulted in a successful conference.

During the event I took care of odd jobs here and there: I put up info signs, greeted people at the registration, carried water bottles and whatnot. I dabbled with things that may seem small, but, in the end, helped create a smooth conference experience. I was being useful and I liked it!

Amidst the work and responsibilities there were fun surprises and major perks. For example, during the first conference day we were treated to a small music number. The memory of conference participants, postgrads and professors alike, swirling around and dancing to the tunes of a violin will probably stay with me forever. Most importantly, though, I got a glimpse into the inner circle of English research in Finland: I felt like a little sponge soaking up knowledge and ideas. I had the opportunity to attend some interesting paper sessions and meet people working in fascinating fields of research – the conference even provided me with help for my upcoming MA thesis. The research community felt warm and supportive and people seemed to enjoy the conference. I’m lucky I got to be a part of it.

Text by Lilli Laine

Ceremonial Conferment of Doctoral Degrees, 25-26 May 2017

Academic festivities are there for a reason: they help us remember that we are part of a long scholarly tradition which is our cultural and intellectual heritage. That is where we belong. Not to mention the fact that they are extremely fun and enjoyable! 136 young doctors and 12 honorary doctors participated in a two-day conferment ceremony at the University of Turku towards the end of May. Our department was involved in two important ways: Professor Kenneth Hyltenstam from the University of Stockholm, a prominent scholar who has published widely on bilingualism and SLA and who has had a strong impact on research conducted in our department, had been invited to receive the title of honorary doctor on our initiative, and our very own Mari-Liisa Varila was among the young doctors on whom the doctoral degree was conferred in the ceremony (see Mari-Liisa’s own words below).


Mari-Liisa Varila, Päivi Pietilä and Kenneth Hyltenstam celebrating at Turku Castle.

It must have felt like two rather hectic days for our esteemed honorary doctors. All practical arrangements had been planned carefully beforehand by the organizing committee, including a fitting session on the morning of the first day, to make sure the white tie was the right size (the dress code is notably very strict on these occasions!), and transportation from the hotel to the various events and back again. The events consisted of a rehearsal at the Concert Hall, a sword-sharpening ceremony on the eve of the big day, the conferment ceremony itself, an academic procession from the Concert Hall to the Cathedral, a service at the Cathedral, a banquet at Turku Castle in the evening, and finally a ball at the Turku VPK House. In earlier years, the festivities went on even longer, as there was a boat trip to Naantali and lunch at Kaivohuone. Maybe it is not such a bad thing that the programme has been cut slightly; it is rather exhausting to be festive for two entire days, let alone three! But on the other hand, the two days were thoroughly enjoyable, and even the weather was better than anyone could have wished for: sunshine and a bright blue sky.

Text by Päivi Pietilä

The doctor in the hat

My doctoral degree was awarded already in June 2016, but the ceremonial conferment of doctoral degrees is only organised once every two or three years. To officially receive my hat, sword, and doctoral diploma, I participated in the festivities this year. It is not obligatory to take part in the ceremonial conferment, but I felt that it was a good way to stop for a moment and celebrate my achievement together with the other young doctors, the honorary doctors, and our academic community.


In the rehearsal on Thursday afternoon, we practised solemnly walking in pairs, receiving the sword, and bowing to the conferrer without dropping our hats. Excitement filled the air. In the sword-sharpening ceremony on Thursday evening, we symbolically honed our blades for the big day. Our avecs turned the grindstones while the heralds poured some bubbly on the swords.


Mari-Liisa Varila receiving her sword.

On Friday noon we gathered to the Concert Hall, all in tailcoats or long black dresses. At quarter past twelve, the procession entered the hall. We sat down in the front of the room, waiting for our turn to receive the hat and sword. Each conferrer stepped up to the podium in their turn, delivering their trilingual speech – Finnish, English, and Latin. They pressed the hats on our heads and presented us with our swords and (Latin) diplomas. After the ceremony, our procession moved from the Concert Hall to the Cathedral where a bilingual service was held. Our day was made even more special by the beautiful singing of the Turku University Choir.

In the evening, we gathered to the Turku Castle. We were served a three-course dinner, interspersed with speeches and some more singing. I was honoured to have been asked to deliver the speech to the honorary doctors. We then moved to the VPK house for a polonaise and a waltz, with music provided by Sohon Torwet. Our evening ended, very appropriately, in a speech to the sun.

Text by Mari-Liisa Varila
Photos by Miikka Varila and Markku Hakala

Revisiting Galway: Translation Meets Book History

The English Department seems to be building up a special affinity with Galway. The ESSE conference last August was attended by quite a crowd (see blog post here); earlier last year I had the chance to visit the National University of Ireland in Galway as Moore Institute Research Fellow. And now I am back at the Institute for more research and networking in connection with a seminar on book history and translation studies.

There are a thousand excellent reasons to come back to Galway: the Irish are an extremely friendly people (and seem to share a number of things with Finns – maybe living at opposite ends of Europe makes for some sort of a bond?), Galway is an attractive and cosy town with an interesting history, and the University offers a vibrant intellectual atmosphere and a very warm welcome to visiting scholars.

The conference “Book History Meets Translation Studies” was organised by Dr. Alice Colombo, a Marie Curie scholar in Galway, together with Dr. Anne O’Connor, who has just come out with a fantastic book on Irish translation history in the 19th century (see here) and Dr. Niall Ó Ciosáin, a renowned scholar of the Irish print culture (see here). The conference brought together researchers from different parts of the world and with widely varying topics, ranging from multilingual texts in 19th century North Africa to book illustrations, from Urdu scribes’ manuals to publishers’ archives. Katja Vuokko from our department gave a paper on Finnish translators’ footnotes; I talked about the Tauchnitz series “Collection of British Authors” and the introduction of British literature in Finland. The keynote speaker was Prof. Norbert Bachleitner from the University of Vienna with a highly interesting paper on 18th century women translators.

Apart from academic interests, Galway boasts a wealth of historical sites and places to see (and a very large number of pubs). In a street corner there is a statue of Oscar Wilde and the Estonian author Eduard Vilde, “a humorous quip on literary history”. The original statue of the W/Vildes is in Tartu (sculptor Tiiu Kirsipuu); the copy was presented to the city of Galway to celebrate Estonia’s membership in the EU. In real life, the two authors never met.

For me the most memorable place in Galway is Nora Barnacle’s house in Bowling Green, where I was taken by my wonderful landlady Sheila (the museum is presently not open for public). This was the home of Nora, James Joyce’s wife, and it is the smallest museum in Ireland with just two rooms and a backyard. Mary and Sheila Gallagher bought the house in 1987 and it is thanks to them that the house has been preserved and restored. The teatowel in the picture below celebrated the 1991 Bloomsday; one in the series of events organised by Mary and Sheila.

No research visit is complete without cafés and tea houses. There is plenty to choose from in Galway: Ard Bia at Spanish Arch and The Kitchen at the Galway museum are my favourites. A perfect way of combining work and leisure on a rainy day!

Text and photos by Outi Paloposki