Category: Weekly Writings

Map: City of Lancaster / Lancaster Co. by Walling, Henry Francis, 1825-1888

Ten Concrete Features / Details

1. The streets are organized in a very geometric fashion; they’re mostly rectangular in the center, then become diagonally oriented moving outwards.
2. The squares and rectangles that the streets form are not equally sized.
3. There are sections labelled 1 through 8.
4. Certain landmarks are labelled with their name, but there aren’t many.
5. Different sections are colored green, pink, and yellow.
6. Limited to no topographical details are present.
7. North on the arrowed “compass” does not point directly vertically.
8. Pennsylvania Central R. R. is emphasized, its path traced by the map.
9. Only the larger roads are named.
10. Many different churches/places of worship, public schools, and cemeteries.

Chosen Feature: Many different churches, public schools, and cemeteries.

1. Roman Catholic, Catholic, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Episcopal, German Reform, African, synagogue
2. Cluster of different churches found within one block of one another
3. Public schools found in clusters, never a singular school
4. Cemeteries drawn in more detail than other landmarks
5. Lancaster Cemetery is drawn with elaborate detail, with geometric spiral patterns
6. Public schools are neighbored by cemeteries
7. Churches are indicated with symbols that have a cross on them
8. Simple chapels exist as well

Does the presence of so many different churches, all worshipping different branches of Catholicism and Christianity, and even Judaism, suggest religious freedom and respect in late nineteenth century Lancaster? Especially since the different churches are clustered very close together in some places, this suggests that people of different faiths did in fact coexist peacefully. Pennsylvania — or at least the Lancaster Country region of Pennsylvania — most likely practiced tolerance. How did people of so many faiths arrive in one region though? Did immigrants of all different backgrounds settle there, or did the settlers find different religions in the New World and pass on the practice? I suppose the answers to these questions could be explored through researching history and religion in the area.

In addition, why are there so many cemeteries? The map seems to ascribe a certain level of importance to them by representing them in more detail. Does this have anything to do with respect for the dead? Finally, why are all public schools found in clusters? Were they different grade levels, did they teach different things, were they segregated, etc? Was each cluster its own “system”? These questions prompt research of education in the 1800s.

I used to think that journeys

Went from point A to point B,

Start location, destination,

‘least that’s what MapQuest told me.

Then I really began living

Highs and lows, to’s and fro’s,

And I started to discover

Not every road could be what I chose.

For the unexpected would knock me

In a ditch, off the trail,

 But I had to stand up, keep on marching

Be it sunshine, snow, or hail.

Life is not a map

With every stop up in the stars;

It’s a roller coaster — twists & turns —

That don’t show off the scars.

When we think of maps, our minds leap to Google Maps, MapQuest, travel brochures, and atlases: images we unquestioningly trust to display a view of the world. In fact, maps are all around us: in our heads, the books we read, the essays we write, the roads we travel. But how can maps possibly be entirely objective in all these different aspects? As John Brian Harley states in chapter 2, “Maps, Knowledge, and Power”, of his essay compilation The New Nature of Maps, “in any iconological study it is only through context that meaning and influence can properly be unraveled. Such contexts may be defined as the circumstances in which maps were made and used. They are analogous to the speech situation in linguistic study and involve reconstructions of the physical and social settings for the production and consumption of maps, the events leading up to these actions, the identity of map makers and map users, and their perceptions of the act of taking and using maps in a socially constructed world. Such details can tell us not only about the motives behind cartographic events but also what effect naps may have had and the significance of the information they communicate in human terms” (Harley 56). The context of a map matters more than we ever realize, from its intentions to historical background. We not only need to consider where a map can take us, but where it came from. Considering their significant influence on the physical and abstract, Harley argues that maps are not scientific communications that can be taken at face value, but representations of the mapmaker’s perspective and intended message. 

Beyond their common practicality, maps become weapons when the government seeks to argue their case through them. As Harley notes on page 56, “even a cursory inspection of the history of mapping will reveal the extent to which political, religious, or social power produce the context of cartography.” He goes on to present evidence from throughout history: “This has become clear, for example, from a detailed study of cartography and prehistoric, ancient and medieval Europe, and the Mediterranean. Throughout the period, “mapmaking was one of the specialized intellectual weapons by which power could be gained, administered, given legitimacy, and codified. Moreover, this knowledge was concentrated in relatively few hands and Maps were associated with the religious elite of dynastic Egypt and of Christian medieval Europe; with the intellectual elite of Greece and Rome; and with the mercantile elite of the city-states of the Mediterranean World during the late middle ages’” (Harley 56). From the earliest civilizations, no matter the time or space, the ruling class has discovered and applied the power of maps. In other words, maps have been weaponized by man for their ability to manipulate power, to tangibly facilitate man’s deepest desires to conquer and claim. 

The wars won by maps can be traced throughout history as they aid imperialism, as in not only expansion of rule, but of ideologies. Maps have political, religious, and propaganda uses. They establish and validate land and political boundaries, carry out religious intentions by erasing some and elevating others, and spread specific ideas. There is something about seeing a display on paper that legitimizes, in a way that abstract ideas cannot. 

In their basest essence, maps are knowledge. This perspective is a lot more meaningful when we acknowledge that mapmaking has historically been a privilege, benefitter, and representation of the elite or the powers in control. As such, it makes sense that “storage of authoritative resources involves above all the retention and control of information or knowledge“. The making and spreading — or withholding — of maps is essentially the control of knowledge. This gives the mapmaker considerable power over the views of the map reader, especially if they are ignorant or impressionable. Frequently, it is not only the mapmaker, but “set of power relations [behind them], creating his own specification”. Harley’s argument makes it undeniable that maps are inherently biased, often intentionally.

Overall, Harley argues that maps are not objective sources when considering the context — political, social, economic, and historial — behind them. After all, maps are graphical depictions, representations, images — works that all have artists. In this case, the mapmaker as artist is biased, just like any other human being. This property of maps has been exploited for propaganda and imperialism throughout history. In modern times, this can be seen in huge conflicts such as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, where no clear land boundaries can be defined by maps. Maps are so much more than we give them credit for, or realize — for they are potent weapons in the advancement of society.

Beyond their common practicality, maps become weapons when the government seeks to assert their political agenda through them. As Harley notes on page 56, “even a cursory inspection of the history of mapping will reveal the extent to which political, religious, or social power produce the context of cartography.” He goes on to present evidence from throughout history: “Throughout the period, ‘mapmaking was one of the specialized intellectual weapons by which power could be gained, administered, given legitimacy, and codified’. Moreover, this knowledge was concentrated in relatively few hands and maps were associated with the religious elite of dynastic Egypt and of Christian medieval Europe; with the intellectual elite of Greece and Rome; and with the mercantile elite of the city-states of the Mediterranean World during the late middle ages’” (Harley 56). From the earliest civilizations, no matter the time or space, the ruling class has discovered and applied the power of maps. In other words, maps have been weaponized by man for their ability to manipulate power, to tangibly facilitate man’s deepest desires to conquer and claim. 

The wars won by maps can be traced throughout history as they aid imperialism, as in not only expansion of rule, but of ideologies. Maps have political, religious, and propaganda uses. They establish and validate land and political boundaries, carry out religious intentions by erasing some and elevating others, and spread specific ideas. There is something about seeing a display on paper that legitimizes, in a way that abstract ideas cannot. In their basest essence, maps are knowledge. This perspective is a lot more meaningful when we acknowledge that mapmaking has historically been a privilege, benefit, and representation of the elite or the powers in control. As such, it makes sense that “storage of authoritative resources involves above all the retention and control of information or knowledge” (). The making and spreading — or withholding — of maps is essentially the control of knowledge. This gives the mapmaker considerable power over the views of the map reader, especially if they are ignorant or impressionable. Frequently, it is not only the mapmaker, but “set of power relations [behind them], creating his own specification”. Harley’s argument makes it undeniable that maps are inherently biased, often intentionally.

Overall, Harley argues that maps are not objective sources when considering the context — political, social, economic, and historical — behind them. After all, maps are graphical depictions, representations, images — works that all have artists. The mapmaker as artist is biased, just like any other human being. This property of maps has been exploited for propaganda and imperialism throughout history. In modern times, this can be seen in huge conflicts such as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, where no clear land boundaries can be defined by maps. Maps are so much more than we give them credit for, or realize — for they are potent weapons in the advancement of society.

Links to Final Draft:

WordPress – http://emilyluo.bergbuilds.domains/formalessays/formal-essay-1-final/

For my weekly discussion, my group discussed Chapter 1 of Martin Brückner’s book The Social Life of Maps in America, 1750-1860, “The Artisanal Map, 1750-1815: Workshops and Shopkeepers from Lewis Evans to Samuel Lewis”. 

Our discussion focused on the success of Evans’s map on many levels. Firstly, it was able to depart from the British mapmaking standards that dominated the market and establish its own design and production. As maps represented knowledge and power, and the scientific communication of them, Evans’s step out of the imperial shadows had significant implications for the fledgling America’s position in the world. In addition, we discussed how the chapter gave us a deeper look into the biases behind mapmaking in action. From governors to councils in the colonies, everyone wanted their own representation of their land before it was officially on paper. Evans had to resist considerable pressures, yet he managed to do so with grace and humility, producing what may perhaps have been the most objective map possible at the time.

Argument: In this chapter, Bruckner’s overarching argument is that in the eighteenth to nineteenth century, American mapmaking departed from the standard imperial model and began creating its own place in the world. Paralleled with this rise in mapmaking was a rise in colonial ambitions that set the stage for competition between Philadelphia and London. 

Assertions/Claims:

1. “At the same time, the map’s signs and symbols re-flected the ideological expectations of imperial politics and colonial practice … Furthermore, these markings sug-gested expansionary land schemes debated by colonial pro-prietors and governments, in particular by members of the Pennsylvania Assembly. Indeed, by dedicating the map to Thomas Pownall, who, as a recent observer of the Albany Congress, had expressed support for an intercolonial alli-ance against the French, the map implicitly aligned itself with parties interested in ideas and concepts advocating colonial political autonomy” (Bruckner 36). 
2. “Second, and less obvious but perhaps more significant, Evans unknowingly announced a major reversal of the eighteenth-century system of knowl-edge production. By selling out his American-made map within the colonies before shipping it to the metropolis—indeed, by generating demand for a colonial-made map in the imperial metropolis—Evans not only pitted Philadel-phia against London as a center of calculation but inadver-tently decentered the imperial model of mapmaking and scientific communication” (Bruckner 40).
3. “The material biography of the Evans map outlines the dual rise of the artisanal map as a popular commodity and commercial cartography as a profitable enterprise” (Bruckner 41).

Assertion #2:

An unintentional long-term effect of Evans’s map was a shift in worldwide knowledge production. As a map sold in the colonies, before being sold in Britain by popular demand, A General Map of the Middle British Colonies put Philadelphia (the colonies) on par — and in competition — with London (Britain) as a center in calculation and communication. For evidence, Bruckner describes the production process of the map, including its struggles and subsequent deviations from the imperial model, thus introducing innovative new colonial methods and establishing the map as American-made. In addition, Bruckner details the commercial success in the colonies, then back in England in order to demonstrate the shift in demand and source of knowledge/information. These uses of evidence heavily support the claim, which in turn supports the overarching argument by showing the map-relevant ways in which the colonies’ position began aligning with Britain’s. 

“Lolita depicts the way our interactions with the world are often based on illusion, and on both our willful and unintentional reliance on hazy perceptions … And so every story is an iceberg. Or an ice sculpture. Sculpture, after all, is the art of cutting away, of finding David in a block of marble, or one of all the possible davids. Even a child eyeing a pumpkin in October knows that most of the work ahead will be deciding what to remove” (Turchi 66-69).

1. 250 Word Summary

The book Lolita portrays the illusion-based foundation of our interactions with the world. It also reveals our preference, whether intentional or not, for blurred realities. This is perfectly exemplified in Humbert’s obsession with Lolita, aka Delores Haze. The object of his twisted desires is not the innocent twelve year old girl Delores, but the nymphet Lolita that Humbert has crafted in the attempt to satisfy them. As a result, the thoughts and feelings of Delores are silenced, suppressed, warped through the lens of Humbert’s obsessive eyes. When Delores becomes married and pregnant, however, the illusion Humbert has created begins to fracture as peeks of unpleasant reality filter in. Humbert is forced to contend with the Delores version of Lolita, the real person behind the nymphet. 

Because at the end of the day, Lolita is but a creature in a fantasy world, a figment of Humbert’s imagination. Imagination is fleeting — it cannot sustain itself in the face of reality. But that is the intention of art: to bring readers into the world created, to help people escape reality.

Knowing what we do about blanks, silences, and omissions, now we must ask the key questions. Namely, how much is too much? Too little? And how do we know? Both putting in and keeping out too much can have negative effects, so neither is strictly superior to the other.

The answer to all these questions is purpose. The amount of detail to be included is specific to what an artist means to create. 

In this way, stories can be aptly compared to icebergs, or ice sculptures. Stories are about cutting away the excess to get to David, the masterpiece.

2. 150 Character Summary

Fiction reveals our preference for escaping reality and using our imagination. The question of what to put in or omit is answered by creator’s purpose.

Maps, Knowledge, and Power, J. Brian Harley:

“As much as guns and warships, maps have been the weapons of imperialism. Insofar as maps were used in colonial promotion, and lands claimed on paper before they were effectively occupied, maps anticipated empire” (Harley 57).

1. Similar to guns and ships, maps carry out the warfare of imperialism. To the extent that maps were used in the marketing of colonialism, and the claiming of lands in theory before practice, maps set the precedent for expansionism.
2. Like artillery and battleships, maps have been the tools used by imperialism. Maps predicted new lands, in the way that they were exploited for colonial propaganda and laying claim to as yet unoccupied lands.
3. Maps have served as the ammunition for imperialism just as guns and warships do. Maps paved the way for colonization by supporting colonies and depicting unclaimed land as claimed.

Maps of the Imagination: The Writer as Cartographer, Peter Turchi:

“No matter how hard we work to be objective or faithful, we create. That isn’t to say we get things wrong, but that, from the first word we write – even by choosing the language in which we will write, and by choosing to write rather than to paint or sing – we are defining, delineating, the world that is coming into being” (Turchi 14).

1. It is impossible to be unbiased, as we create. That doesn’t mean we’re wrong, but we conceive and construct our world by simple choices like the method and language of communication.
2. We imagine, regardless of how much we try to be unprejudiced. That just means we portray and make into reality our world by deciding on methods of expression, not that we are wrong.
3. It doesn’t matter how much we attempt to be impersonal, since we design. It doesn’t mean we interpret things incorrectly, but that from the very beginning — from deciding on a language to write in to deciding on another art form — we characterize the world we create.

I chose these passages to paraphrase because they encapsulate key ideas in the respective texts, and they contained well-written language that could be broken down and evaluated. Paraphrasing the passage from Harley helped me truly understand the metaphor of how maps are weapons of imperialism, and in a broader sense, instruments of political power and man’s will. Turchi’s passage became more direct and clearer — especially the idea of maps being subjective representations of the maker’s intentions, biases, and experiences — after paraphrasing. I found Turchi a bit harder to paraphrase because it was more difficult to think of synonyms for all the words that he used. However, the process of paraphrasing overall brought to light my strength in describing but weakness in being concise. I’ve found that searching for a way to present my own understanding of the author’s words is a difficult task, because comprehension isn’t enough — paraphrasing is also about being able to reproduce complex ideas using your own language. 

Before the flowers even come into view, the atmosphere of the Rose Garden washes over my skin and soul. A light breeze gives my exposed arms and legs a gentle caress, and I am struck by the welcome coolness after a period of stifling humidity. As the breeze departs with a flourish to my dress, it hits me that the curtains are closing on summer, and it is almost time for the next act. But then the vibrant dots of color in the distance catch my eye: how could I forget summer’s grand finale?

The path I am traversing opens up to an expanse of flower beds, statues, pagodas, and wooden arches. Eden? Not so much. As I draw closer, I find clarity in the details: the faded plants and rusted, naked figures. I wander past the central garden and find myself nearing a small bridge with willows weeping in the background. At the top of the arch, I still, close my eyes, and inhale deeply. Captivated. No other word could be more apt to capture the rush of euphoria that floods my veins, the peace that only nature can provide. Behind me the willows whisper, not plotting deception, but spreading wisdom of the earth accumulated from a lifetime of sheltering youngsters and inspiring creatives. The perpetual breeze carries in its breath the crispness of after-rain air. Blinking my eyes open again, my vision is filled with a soft glow. A faded pastel sunset gilds the edges of trees in the distance, framing Mother Nature’s work of art. Everything is soft yet angular, gentle yet cool, a host of opposites that form the perfect harmony.

For that is what evening at the Rose Garden is: harmony.