Walking and Talking Feminist Rhetorics Part II

Most of the stories and topics presented in the methods and methodologies section of Walking and Talking Feminist Rhetorics were delightfully new. Based on the title (“Articulating and Enacting Feminist Methods and Methodologies”) I expected the section to read like a traditional methods handbook. I suppose that shows how new I am to feminist rhetoric. Instead of drudging through presentation of research ideas (which can be so surprisingly dry), I was enraptured by the stories and lives of figures I’ve never before encountered. I’m inspired to include as many of the research practices as I can into my own work. Bizzell’s discussion of the role of emotion about research topics—or subjects—will be particularly influential to my thesis (as will Mary Queen’s “Transnational Feminist Rhetorics in a Digital World”). While I’m not sure I fully understand the seemingly fundamental Gale-Glenn-Jarratt debate, I plan to investigate this further both for my independent research and for the presentation on Bizzell.

Hester Rogers was a character I’d not had the privilege of meeting before reading Vicki Tolar Collins (Burton)’s “The Speaker Respoken.” The excellent presentation made me want to know more. I’m (suddenly) particularly interested in the rhetoric of mystics. Comparing Hester Rogers to women like Catherine of Siena, Birgitta of Sweden, Angela of Foligno, Mechthild of Magdeburg, Margery Kempe, and Julian of Norwich could provide a fascinating analysis spanning multiple continents and nearly every century from 1208-1837.

I go through phases of fun facts where I’m completely obsessed with some new tidbit of information I discover. I tell everyone I meet about the bizarre information I’ve discovered. One such fun fact phase was about the fascinating building of the Brooklyn Bridge. The young chief engineer became paralyzed while working on the bridge and his wife took over for him while he watched from his room with a telescope. Emily Roebling earned the slightly recognized title of “first woman field engineer.” I wonder if Romano’s description of Catalina fits into the Brooklyn Bridge story (“The larger historical significance of Catalina’s rhetorical production, then, may be that it initiates—boldly and tragically—the diminishment of women’s civic presence in the American landscape” (139). This fun fact phase could easily develop into a feminist rhetoric seminar topic by telling (re-telling) Emily’s story.