An Englishman in Detroit

My bus journey between the library and home is a pretty hefty hour each way, so I've taken to bringing a novel along with me to pass the time (plus it's nice to have a chance to read fiction, for a change!) My current reading matter is Tom Wolfe's The Bonfire of the Vanities. On the way back from work yesterday, I cam across an interesting passage, about an elderly English poet addressing a gathering of New York's high society:

"It is has always been wonderful to be an Englishman in the United States... When I first came to the United States, as a young man, before the Second Great War, and people heard my voice, they would say 'Oh, you're English!' and I always got my way, because they were so impressed. Nowadays, when I come to the United States and people hear my voice, they say, 'Oh, you're English - you poor thing!' - and I still get my way, because your country-men never fail to take pity on us."

This passage got me thinking about my own reception here, and whether it fell into either of these camps. Certainly, everyone I have met has been both extremely friendly and helpful to a fault. It would take a very long time to repay all the generosity I've received in my short time in the US. It's rarely been my impression, however, that my nationality is the reason for this - whether because people are impressed or pitying. Rather, my sense is that people here are friendly and helpful to everybody, regardless of origin.

When people have mentioned my accent it has been more of a throwaway comment - sometimes coupled with a bemusement that I would want to come to Detroit (let alone study it). That is, apart from one guard at the public library who started speaking to me in German, which was a little confusing to say the least!

The Highs and Lows of Research

When I started my PhD I expected that research would be mostly about finding a few key folders of documents in an archive collection, and then building up an argument around them. I guess you could call it a "smoking gun" view of history. My masters' dissertation worked in this way - tho I looked at quite a few different sources, by far the bulk of my argument came from two places.

Needless to say, the PhD hasn't worked out in quite the same way. Rather than finding a smoking gun, it feels more like I'm panning for gold. A couple of hours hunting through boxes of correspondence might turn up a handful of letters, none of which will become the centre-piece of an argument, but which rather will reinforce and nuance what I already have. It's frustrating, as it means that it feels like I'm not making real progress, even tho the pile of photocopying on my desk is increasing exponentially. Hopefully, tho, it'll all come together into something which makes sense.

On other news, I'm having serious computer problems as my laptop keeps crashing after being booted for 5-10 minutes. Fortunately one of my housemates is letting me use their computer for checking email etc, but it means that taking notes onto my laptop is going to be a no-no for a while. Looks like I'm going to be back to old-fashioned long-hand!

Coaches and Libraries

I came across a quote today, paraphasing Francois Truffaut, saying that making a movie is like getting on a stagecoach. At the beginning you're hoping for a good journey. Half-way in you just want to reach the end.

I doubt I'm the first person to suggest that a PhD is very similar. I'm not sure quite where I am on the progression yet - I still want to say something interesting and innovative, but the end is sounding increasingly appealing! One thing that is certain is that the loneliness of research (particularly in the Arts) can really get you down sometimes. When you don't have a conversation between waking up and getting back home in the evening even the most brilliant research seems unappealling.

That goes double when you're in a foreign country, and I'm far from immune. I am, however ,lucky in that I'm doing most of my work in a library (the Burton Collection of the Detroit Public Library) which not only has extremely friendly and helpful librarians, but also a number of visitors working on their own projects, about which they're filled with an infectious enthusiasm. Today is a case in point - I got chatting over the photocopier to the historian of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, who was conducting some research into one of its former conductors. It was a fascinating topic which I knew nothing about, and provided a much-needed break from the minutiae of the Mayor Lodge's correspondence from 1932!

"Welcome Back To The Motor City"

It's rare that Detroit makes the news over in the UK - and when it does it's usually for negative reasons - so I was delighted when Super Bowl XL came here this February, as it meant that the British media paid a little attention to the Motor City. Most of these stories (for example here) stressed how the city had been revitalised by the event, which was drawing much-needed investment into Downtown.

Reading all this I was very sceptical, as Detroit seems to be perpetually on the brink of a Renaissance, while sinking deeper and deeper into the mire. Even so, one of the reasons I was looking forward to this trip was to see what truth, if any, there was. And I must admit that I was surprised. There were new buildings in Downtown, which is remarkable considering that this time last year it just seemed to be a collection of crumbling ruins. Even more remarkable is that the construction work is carrying on, over two months after the Super Bowl. Buildings that I thought were on the brink of collapse twelve months ago are now surrounded by cranes and there seem to be signs advertising apartments everywhere.

I mustn't overstate this - Detroit's problems are still firmly written into its landscape (something I'll probably write about in more detail later in this trip), and I've only seen the changes to Downtown so far. But even if this is only a relatively small step forward from the last time I was here, it's still far more than I expected. And, perhaps more important, there is a sense of civic pride that was completely absent twelve months ago. As one Pontiac ad put it, Welcome Back To The Motor City.

Touchdown in Detroit

To save me spamming up all your inboxes with news, Kit's suggested that I run a blog for the couple of months I'm in Detroit. I'll be the first to admit that I've not a clue how to put a blog together, but at the least it'll be a learning experience!

I touched down in Detroit yesterday afternoon. This is my third visit to the city, and the first time that I've landed and it wasn't snowing. In fact it's remarkably warm and sunny weather at the moment - which I think has to be a good omen for the research ahead.

The flight itself was fine. I was sitting next to an elderly lady who hardly spoke any English. In some ways this was a bit of a relief, as I tend to be very anti-social while travelling, and it was nice to just switch off and read (I finished Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami). But it was also a shame, as she seemed a very interesting person and it would have been nice to have spoken with her, rather than trying to use a combination of hand gestures and the classic English method of speaking slowly and loudly just to ask her to move so that I could stretch my legs. It struck me how strange it is when you're not able to communicate with someone, and also how rarely I'm in that position. Considering I only speak one language with any fluency, this is a sad indictment of how little I've travelled. Fortunately I saw her again at the airport, with her daughter and son-in-law, and I was able to quickly tell them what a pleasant travelling companion she had been, however limited our conversation.

One quick request. I watched Syriana on the flight, but we landed about 10 minutes before the end. If anyone has seen it all the way through you can win my eternal gratitude by letting me know what happens.