Tudor MOOC

Course: The Tudors
Length: 6 weeks, 5 hrs/wk
School/platform: University of Roehampton, London/Futurelearn
Instructor: Suzannah Lipscomb, et al
Quote:

From magnificence and martyrs to weddings and war, the Tudor period was one of the most eventful in British history. The reigns of the five (or was it six?) monarchs during the late fifteenth to seventeenth century has enthralled historians, students and television and film producers alike.
On this course you will compare the rule of the Tudor monarchs and examine the significant political, religious and cultural changes of the period. You will be taught by renowned scholars on Tudor England from the University of Roehampton who will reveal how this era has shaped modern-day British politics.

I recently read the S. J. Parris novel Heresy, a work of historical fiction primarily featuring Giordano Bruno but firmly set in the reign of Elizabeth I in 1583. Unlike many fellow USAians who find the monarchy to be romantic and intriguing, I’ve always been bewildered by it, particularly by the roll call of monarchs. So many Henrys! Georges and Richards in triplets! And, in the period of the book, one too many Marys. Maybe two too many, or maybe just two too many names.

In any case, I thought, having discovered spymaster Walsingham and poet Philip Sydney via the Parris book, I might be ready for a more formal look at the period. I was delighted to find a mooc all about the Tudors on Futurelearn, the UK answer to Coursera.

The course starts with the turnover from Richard III to Henry VII and proceeds through the death of Elizabeth I and the ascension of the Stuarts via James I. Or IV, depending on what country you’re in. It’s complicated. That’s the problem, it’s all very complicated, with lots of fighting about who’s a legitimate heir and who’s a bastard child and who’s the right religion and who’s going to the Tower. We also meet a lot of side players, advisors, councilors, dukes and lords and all those things  that bewilder me.

In addition to the marriages, beheadings, religious conversions, and such that make up the actual historical accounts, the course looks at how this period has been recorded in the arts: portraiture, architecture, literature, plays, and, most recently, films. The possible skewing of these forms is discussed: some people get the hero treatment, others are played as the villain, and while sometimes those roles are deserved, sometimes they aren’t.

I took this recreationally, so perhaps I didn’t work hard enough, but I found a lot of the material might have been easier had I grown up in the culture that grew from this period. Some people – earls and such – are referred to by various names reflecting their titles or their given names.  Thanks to having been prepped by  Parris, I was better able to follow the sense of threat felt by the Elizabethan court over the persistence of Catholic orthodoxy  in the country.

One amusing aside: having watched the Netflix series The Crown, I was gratified to finally hear about the Cecils, only to find that the reference in the series – “History teaches: Never trust a Cecil” – was an anachronism. But the familiarity helped me recognize Elizabeth I’s two Cecils.

The course consists mostly of articles – short readings – with a few videos scattered throughout each of the six units. Discussion forums follow each step; most courses have a “live” period when a facilitator monitors the boards and answers questions, but this was an in-between period. An ungraded quiz of two to four questions appears once or twice in a unit. I took the audit version; it’s my understanding that those who pay $27.99/month for Unlimited access to much of the Futurelearn catalog, or who pay $64 for permanent access to this particular course, can receive grades, or at least certificates of achievement.

I found the course very helpful in getting a better handle on this period of English history, both in terms of the succession of monarch, and in understanding, at least in a general way, the most important issues of the day.


Renaissance Travel Manuscript MOOC: Geographic Discoveries and New Worlds through the Eyes of a Renaissance Jewish Scholar

Course: Changing Minds: Geographic Discoveries and New Worlds through the Eyes of a Renaissance Jewish Scholar
Length: 5 weeks, 1-2 hrs/wk (a 90 minute lecture divided into six modules)
School/platform: Penn/edX
Instructor: Fabrizio Lelli, Associate Professor of Hebrew Language and Literature. University of Salento (Lecce, Italy).
Quote:
This course will explore the world of the Jewish renaissance scholar Abraham ben Mordecai Fairissol and his manuscript A Letter on the Paths of the World ( Iggeret Orhot ‘Olam ). Farissol, a product of the northern Italian Renaissance, wrote this geographical treatise about a world seen anew through advances in science, exploration, and trade. The manuscript gives us insight into the place of Jews in the northern Italian Renaissance and demonstrates the ways they were at once deeply embedded in the changing intellectual landscape of the day, but also striving to assert distinctive Jewish belonging in this vibrant intellectual world. Among other things, this text is the first mention in Hebrew of the discovery of the Americas.

For the third time, Penn offers a wonderful mini-mooc on a particular Jewish manuscript from the Katz Center for Advanced Judaic Studies (my experience with the prior two can be found here).  I heard about it, as I’ve heard of so many courses, via Class Central’s Twitter feed: if you like moocs, they’re very worth following.

This manuscript, Iggeret Orhot ‘Olam (A Letter on the Paths of the World) is considered particularly significant in that it includes the first reference to the New World found in a Hebrew book:

“It is now an established fact that the Spanish Ships which were sent on an expedition by the King of Spain almost gave up hope of ever returning. But divine providence had decreed for them a kinder fate than death amid sea. Those at the topmost mast discerned a strip of land. When they had sailed along its shores, and saw its exceedingly large size, they called it because of its great length and breadth, ‘The New World’. The land is rich in natural resources. They have an abundance of fish, large forests teeming with large and small beasts of prey, and serpents as large as beams. The sand along the shores of the rivers contain pure gold, precious stones, and mother of pearl.”
Abraham Fairissol: Iggeret Orhot ‘Olam, Ch. 29 (translation)

The material covers a broad array of topics, showing how the manuscript fits into the time and culture in which it was written, as well as its content. First we find out some basic information about the author, Abraham ben Mordecai Farissol, and Northern Italy of the 16th century, particularly the role of Jews, who had arrived in large numbers following the Spanish expulsion: they were welcomed and could be found in many industries, professions, the arts, and scholarship. Lelli shows how Jewish life was represented positively in visual and written arts.

Lelli discusses the fascination with nature at the time, which was seen in religious terms, as evidence of God’s power. There’s a reference to cameleopards in Fairissol’s manuscript, and there’s evidence he had been to visit the Medici Giraffe, which I first learned about last year when I read the wonderful historico-theologico-fantasy, Lent by Jo Walton, one of those books I read in front of my computer so I could look up things like the Medici Giraffe. Travel and far-off lands were also viewed through a religious lens during this initial age of exploration and trade. One of the themes of Fairissol’s work was to indicate that these lands were mentioned in the Bible. Lelli tells us:

Farissol’s first aim was that of drawing inspiration from the Bible, as it appears from the choice of the title. Indeed, Orhot ‘Olam, “the paths of the world”, is a quotation from the Book of Job, where the Hebrew phrase is endowed with a profoundly different meaning than what we would expect from Farissol’s introductory words. In the standardized English version of the Bible, the verse reads “Will you keep to the old path that the wicked have trod?” Farissol changes this plain meaning of the biblical text, giving it a new interpretation. The orhot ‘olam of Job are certainly not the ways of the New World, the itineraries a modern traveler should follow, nor are they the paths of wickedness as in Job, but are rather those of the valued tradition that should not be abandoned even in new worlds. Farissol walks between the old paths of Jewish tradition and the new paths of the recently discovered lands and new knowledge.

The manuscript refers to a number of interesting individuals in connection with travel, from the legendary Prester John (another recent discovery of mine via Eco’s Serendipities), to “messianic activist” David ha-Reubeni. The last two segments include technical information about the sources of Fairissol’s manuscript, and the various copies that exist today and how they differ from the one in the Penn collection in content and script.

These aren’t moocs so much as they are individual lectures about specific manuscripts reformated into mooc form. In this case, the module review questions were paywalled ($29) but while it would have been nice to have seen what points were considered most important, the lecture stands on its own just fine. A list of interesting discussion questions in the wrap-up material serves the same purpose.

It’s listed as an Advanced course. While the lecture isn’t difficult to follow, it does assume some passing familiarity with the northern Italian renaissance and general European history of the time. But don’t be intimidated: A willingness to look up unfamiliar terms (or to tolerate some uncertainty) will do just fine. A generous glossary and list of additional sources found at the end of the lecture provides additional support.

While the description lists it as a five week course of one hour per week, it’s probably best enjoyed in a more condensed format. Each module’s lecture is about 15 minutes, and while they are information-dense (particularly for those of us who need to do a little extra work to understand the references), I found that viewing several in one longer session provided better momentum.

It isn’t likely to become a super-popular course – it’s not one of the “fun” moocs like the Science of Beer, or something that’s likely to boost your resume like business or computer courses –  but courses like this offer a unique perspective on history, and a chance to see ways in which manuscripts can be valuable outside of their artistic beauty. I’m a big fan of the “oooh, pretty” class of manuscripts, but it’s nice to have a chance to see how scholars view specific content as well. Niche courses are wonderful for those who appreciate the niche, and they cover topics not likely to be found elsewhere.   

A Lot More Than Windmills: Three Months with Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (with bonus MOOC and OCW) [IBR2020]

In short, our hidalgo was soon so absorbed in these books that his nights were spent reading from dusk till dawn, and his days from dawn till dusk, until the lack of sleep and the excess of reading withered his brain, and he went mad. Everything he read in his books took possession of his imagination: enchantments, fights, battles, challenges, wounds, sweet nothings, love affairs, storms and impossible absurdities. The idea that this whole fabric of famous fabrications was real so established itself in his mind that no history in the world was truer for him….
And so, by quite insane, he conceived the strangest notion that ever took shape in a madman’s head, considering it desirable and necessary, both for the increase of his honor and for the common good, to become a knight errant, and to travel the world with his armor and his arms and his horse in search of adventures, and to practice all those activities that he knew from his books were practiced by knights errant, redressing all kinds of grievances, and exposing himself to perils and dangers that he would overcome and thus gain eternal fame and renown.

Don QuixoteI.1, Rutherford

Three months, one thousand pages of source text, two additional critical/historical texts, one mooc and one OCW later – I have some idea of how that madness feels.

It’s all Salman Rushdie’s fault.

I saw some comments about his newest novel, Quichotte, and thought, yeah, it’s time I read him, and that sounds kind of interesting. But I’d never read Don Quixote, and knew nothing about it beyond windmills, Sancho Panza, and To Dream the Impossible Dream. I remember observing a high school English class, a multi-level experiment that had the “smart” kids reading the original work (in English translation) and the “regular” kids reading/watching Man of La Mancha, which struck me as a really good way to grind teenage egos into dust. One of my favorite movies of all time, They Might Be Giants (the band took their name from the film) was a big reference to Cervantes, turning a crazy judge into Sherlock Holmes instead of an hidalgo into a knight errant.

Dr. Mildred Watson: You’re just like Don Quixote. You think that everything is always something else.
Justin Playfair: Well, he had a point. ‘Course he carried it a bit too far. He thought that every windmill was a giant. That’s insane. But, thinking that they might be, well… All the best minds used to think the world was flat. But what if it isn’t? It might be round. And bread mold might be medicine. If we never looked at things and thought of what might be, why we’d all still be out there in the tall grass with the apes.

They Might Be Giants, James Goldman, screenwriter

It’s such an intimidating work: a thousand pages, written four hundred years ago in a language not mine (two years of college Spanish and 121  843 days of Duolingo don’t really count). Fortunately, there’s a mooc for that – or rather, a series of twenty-four one-hour lectures from Yale’s Open Courses (not quite a mooc, but close enough) by Prof. Roberto González Echevarría. This course not only cover the entire text but throw in a few other of Cervantes’ works, and uses a casebook of academic essays on various literary aspects of the novel (which was great), plus a history of Renaissance and early modern Spain (which was a little too detailed for my purposes). The Rutherford translation of Quixote – or, more accurately, “The Ingenious Hidalgo Don Quixote of La Mancha” but I’m going to abbreviate where I can – was recommended as Prof. González wrote the Introduction, but the lectures often quoted the Jarvis translation, which is available online.

And then there’s Overly Sarcastic Production’s humorous version (part 1 only, unfortunately) which was useful for solidifying plot points in a book that has so much plot, so many characters, it’s easy to forget them when they come back around 400 pages after they first blew through. And I just love Red’s style.

And oh by the way… since I was watching both OSP and the Yale lectures on Youtube, other Don Quixote videos cropped up, and I discovered a mooc offered by Universidad Francisco Marroquín in Guatemala, featuring Prof. Eric Clifford Graf. This course focused more on scene-by-scene events and characters with brief mentions of literary and historical elements; it also included numerous original illustrations of various scenes (I’m including several in this post), which was helpful in visualizing exactly what was meant by certain descriptions. It was a very nice complement to the Yale OCW, which took a much broader view and discussed selected literary and historical features more deeply, rather than plot.

I was surprised that the book, while huge, was so readable. Some of that might be the translation, though Prof. González mentioned that the original Spanish, while quaint to contemporary readers, is less arcane than Shakespeare seems to today’s American readers. It’s also divided into fairly short chapters, which made it easier to read in short sessions. I also found the chapter headings useful, as they set up what would follow (usually; once in a while, there would be a goofy “Which relates what will be in it” kind of thing). But mostly, the characters and their activities just carried it right along.

Contemporary editions of DQ almost always include both Parts I and II, but Prof. González points out that Cervantes did not originally intend to write a second book. Given how well Part II recapitulates, and un-enchants (I’ll get to this), part I, it’s hard to believe this was not in the works, but he finished Part I and did some other things before realizing he’d written a best-seller, and a sequel might be a good idea. They were published ten years apart, but another writer, using the pseudonym Alonzo Fernandez de Avellaneda, wrote a “False Quixote” in between. Cervantes became aware of this as he was writing Part II, and – this is where I get goosebumps – references it several times. It’s part of the self-reflexivity of the novel, a feature I particularly enjoyed.

And about that reflexivity: the first printing of Part I contained errors, most notably, the disappearance and reappearance of Sancho’s donkey, and the misalignment of several chapter headings. Apparently it’s great sport to assign blame to the printer or to Cervantes. Part II mentions these errors. And in the most amusing example, combining reflexivity with metafiction and just plain weirdness, DQ happens across someone mentioned in the False Quixote and demands that he sign a statement that, having now met the real DQ, the history in which he appeared featured someone else.

“In short, Don Alvaro Tarfe sir, I am the Don Quixote de la Mancha of whom fame speaks – not that wretch who sought to usurp my name and exalt himself with my thoughts. I entreat you Sir, as you are a gentleman, to be so kind as to make a formal declaration before the mayor of his village to the effect that you have never in all the days of your life seen me until now, and that I am not the Don Quixote who appears in the second part, nor is this squire of mine Sancho Panza the man whom you knew.”
“I shall be delighted to do so,” Don Alvaro replied, “Even though it amazes me to see two Don Quixotes and two Sancho Panzas at the same time, as identical in name as they are antithetical in action; and I repeat and confirm that I have not seen what I have seen and that what has happened to me has not happened.”
….And the mayor took all the appropriate steps; the deposition was drawn up with all the legal requisites, as is proper in such cases, which delighted Don Quixote and Sancho, as if such a deposition were vital to their welfare, and as if their deeds and their words didn’t clearly show the difference between the two Don Quixotes and between the two Sanchos.

Don Quixote II.71, Rutherford

That’s the thing that most intrigues me about this book. It’s often considered the first Western novel, building on a foundation of piquaresques, romances, and chivalric novels. It incorporates those genres in tales related by characters in Part I (Cervantes avoided this technique in Part II, as it apparently drew complaints). It’s full of self-referential material. There’s a lot of metafiction going on. The narration is triple-layered. In short, it’s a mid-20th century novel that somehow kicked off 17th century fiction, which then took took 400 years to find its way back to the fun stuff.

I love the layered narration. The text has a narrator, of course. But this narrator, at the end of Part I, Chapter 8 (remember, Part I has 52 chapters) announces that “at this very point the author of this history leaves the battle unfinished, excusing himself on the ground that he hasn’t found anything more written about these exploits of Don Quixote than what he has narrated.” In Chapter 9, this narrator tells us he came across a street vendor selling notebooks written in Arabic. A Moorish passerby translated the title: History of Don Quixote de la Mancha, written by Cide Hamete Benengeli, an Arab historian – a relative of whom, by the way, may be one of the minor characters in one chapter. Our in-story narrator hired the anonymous Moor to translate the whole thing, which the narrator has set down. And of course all of this is written by Cervantes. It raises the question of the God-like status of writers creating worlds, and also leads to the question, so who, or Who, wrote Cervantes? From the little I’ve read about it, this technique features prominently in the Rushdie work as well.

This narrative technique, linked to the Master Pedro puppet show (II.25-26) is featured in the George Haley essay in the Casebook, appropriately titled “The Narrator in Don Quixote: Maesa Pedro’s Puppet Show.” Prof. González also put a little sketch on the board in his Lecture 17; it’s one of my favorite elements in the lectures.

This is one aspect of the composition en abîme, the hall-of-mirrors effect, which, coincidentally, Jake Weber had just mentioned in a BASS 2019 post. Prof. González further used the story-within-a-story structure of some parts of the novel – in one case, a character tells a story that includes a character telling a story – as another example of this composition en abîme, using Spanish painter Velázquez’ Las Meninas as an extended metaphor.

Another of my favorite elements was that of the journey from enchantment, or illusion, or engaño, to disenchantment, disillusionment, desengaño. This is not disillusionment in the negative sense; this is more of an awakening to truth. Don Quixote starts out in a state of illusion, enchantment: he’s a knight errant, out to right the wrongs of the world. This is Part I, and corresponds to the Renaissance humanist vision that the world can be fixed by people acting morally. Part II moves to the Spanish Baroque, which is characterized by the loss of that illusion, the realization that the world is grotesque and we are only ornamenting our sarcophagus. Or, in Christian Neoplatonic terms, we leave the cave through the grave and enter the really-real of God. From the Yale lectures:

So desengaño is perhaps the most important concept of the Spanish Baroque; it means undeceiving, opening ones eyes to reality, awakening to the truth; these are all valid translations of the term. Engaño, in Spanish, means ‘deceit,’ to be fooled; ‘te engaño’ means ‘I fool you’; ‘engañarse’ is ‘to fool one self.’
This concept is fundamental to Part II because the whole plot of the novel seems to be moving towards disillusionment.
….Deceits are all of Don Quixote’s illusions, and those of the other characters in the novel. While desengaño is what they wind up or what they reach, disillusionment, realizing that it is all vanity of vanities. This is the reason why so much of what happens in Part II is staged. Deceit is the theatricality of so many events which are made up, constructed; deceit is the dream of books that Don Quixote dreams, it is the unbroken chain of texts masked in reality, and even of language also masking reality.

Prof. Roberto González Echevarría, Yale OCW, Lecture 14 10:13

I got so carried away with this idea I saw it in my other reading, particularly the BASS 2019 story “Natural Disasters” which I read just after I encountered this section.

The feminism of some of the female characters also makes the novel seem more modern than it is. Throughout the book, women come up with clever solutions to problems, design intricate plots, and decide what they want and then go after it. But one of the most contemporary instances occurs early, in Part I, chapters 12 through 14. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza come across a group of shepherds holding a funeral for their fallen comrade Grisóstomo who died of a broken heart (there are hints it might have been suicide) after the beautiful Marcela rejected his love. The bros are all hanging around complaining about Marcela, calling her a basilisk and blaming her for all the woes of mankind, when she shows up and gives them a piece of her mind:

You all say that heaven made me beautiful, so much so that this beauty of mine, with a force you can’t resist, makes you love me; and you say and even demand that, in return for the love you show me, I must love you. By the natural understanding which God has granted me I know that whatever is beautiful is lovable; but I can’t conceive why, for this reason alone, a woman who’s loved for her beauty should be obliged to love whoever loves her.
….Well then, if chastity is one of the virtues that most embellish the soul and the body, why should the woman who’s loved for her beauty lose her chastity by responding to the advances of the man who, merely for his own pleasure, employs all his strength and cunning to make her lose it?
I was born free, and to live free I chose the solitude of the countryside…. He who calls me fierce and a basilisk can leave me alone, as something evil and dangerous; he who calls me an ingrate can stop courting me; he who calls me distant can keep his distance; he who calls me cruel can stop following me: because this fierce basilisk, this ingrate, this cruel and distant woman is most certainly not going to seek, court, approach or follow any of them.

DQ I.14

Marcela, 1; incels, 0.

While he creates a new form, Cervantes drew upon a wide variety of literature in his plots, particularly the Iliad, the Aeneid, and Dante’s Divine Comedy. In the penultimate chapter, in fact, DQ and Sancho stay in a room decorated with sub-par paintings of Helen and Dido, and Sancho predicts: “I bet that before long there won’t be a single eating-house or roadside inn or hostelry or barber’s shop where there isn’t a painting of the story of our deeds. But I’d like it to be done by a better artist than the one who painted these.” And of course, he’s right; not only visual artists, but writers (such as Borges) and thinkers (Freud was obsessed with DQ) have used this work as a springboard.

There’s so much more. Every aspect of Spanish political, religious, social, and economic culture is brought into the tale, either symbolically or literally. Sancho turns out to be a natural logician, as he solves a problem closely resembling the Liar’s Paradox. Don Quixote offers a good deal of advice to writers in various places, mostly following Aristotle, which is particularly ironic since Cervantes left Aristotle in the dust. The Cave of Montesinos as an analog of Dante’s Inferno; Sancho’s ceremony at Altisadora’s catafalque as an analog of the Inquisition. George Mason Professor of Spanish Literature Antonio Carreño-Rodríguez’ paper (“Costello + Panza = Costanza: Paradigmatic Pairs in Don Quixote and American Popular Culture”) citing DQ and Sancho as the original comedy team, leading to Abbott & Costello, and later, Jerry Seinfeld and George Costanza. The death of Don Quixote, which Borges considers the reason for the entire book. And the opening question: can books drive one insane?

And here I thought it was just about windmills.

About those windmills: Just as I was finishing up the last chapters, a Presidential rant about the evils of windmills made the rounds, and every pundit who wasn’t on Christmas vacation dragged Don Quixote into it. I got a bit upset. Ok, the windmill connection is funny, but when you spend three months with people who make you laugh, who have a core of kindness and decency even though they’re sometimes selfish or greedy or make things worse, you find yourself caring about them, even if they exist only in the pages of a book. And you don’t want them compared with someone whose only yardstick is personal gain and grandiosity. So I got a bit snippy with a good friend, and I apologize for that. But maybe now he can see why I’m a bit protective of these characters, and don’t want them seen in shady light.

And I wonder if I’ve gone a little crazy, too. Books can do that to you, I hear.

Bible Old and New – Yale OCW

Course: Introduction to the Old Testament (Hebrew Bible)
and
Introduction to the New Testament History and Literature
Length: ~25 50-minute lectures each
School/platform: Yale OCW
Instructor: Christine Hayes, Dale Martin
Quote:
This course examines the Old Testament (Hebrew Bible) as an expression of the religious life and thought of ancient Israel, and a foundational document of Western civilization. A wide range of methodologies, including source criticism and the historical-critical school, tradition criticism, redaction criticism, and literary and canonical approaches are applied to the study and interpretation of the Bible. Special emphasis is placed on the Bible against the backdrop of its historical and cultural setting in the Ancient Near East.

This course provides a historical study of the origins of Christianity by analyzing the literature of the earliest Christian movements in historical context, concentrating on the New Testament…. the importance of the New Testament and other early Christian documents as ancient literature and as sources for historical study will be emphasized. A central organizing theme of the course will focus on the differences within early Christianity (-ies).

Since several of the books I’m reading this summer concern Biblical materials or religious history, I decided it might be a good idea to run through these online lectures. I’ve done several versions of “Bible history” over the decades, some through religious sources, some academic. When I was organizing my books after my recent move, I noticed the “religion/philosophy” shelf was almost equal to the mass of the “medical” shelf. But I keep forgetting.

The first course on the Hebrew Bible was more or less formal lecture and covered the expected material: the J, P, D, and E sources, which prophets were Northern Kingdom and which were Southern, who was pre-exile, post-exile, and trans-exile, etc. The instructor demonstrated great fondness for the texts, and made convincing arguments that, contrary to later opinion in Christian culture, Judaism was not all about law and rules. The origin of some of the most familiar Biblical stories in ancient mythologies from around the middle East, the changing covenant with God from suzerainty to a more Zionist approach to the less concrete displayed in Job are outlined, along with the history that provoked these changes. I always thought the book of Job was one of the earliest in the Bible; turns out, the basic story is very old, but the philosophical construction reflects a much later period in ancient Israel’s history.

The New Testament instructor took a more casual, interactive approach, injecting frequent humor and asking for input from the in-person class. The formation of the Canon was a running theme, as was the wide variety of Christianities that existed in the first two centuries and the texts that were winnowed from what has now become the standard Bible. Viewing the Bible as a library, rather than as a single book, was a helpful way of dealing with some of the contradictions found between different books. Different views of Jesus as seen through different Gospels – including a few that aren’t in most contemporary Christian canons – were lined up with possible authorships. Paul’s letters were thoroughly covered, as well as the pretend-Paul letters and other letters that show various types of Christianity in the first couple of centuries after Christ.

Both courses generally focused on textual and historical methodologies, but offered several alternatives for reading the texts, and acknowledged the validity of theses approaches for various purposes. Transcripts of each lecture are available; in some cases, handouts are provided, particularly in the NT course. Videos of the lectures can be watched on the Yale Open Courseware site or on Youtube: Hebrew Bible lectures, New Testament lectures.

Many years ago, when I was still paddling around organized religion trying to find something that made sense, I heard a sermon that advised something like: “If you study the Bible a little, you might decide it’s all nonsense, but if you study it a lot, you start to understand its Truth.” Maybe I just haven’t hit the turnaround point yet. Particularly in this age when the Abrahamic religions are often not showing themselves as particularly inspired by a God of Love, I feel like it’s all a giant Rorschach test and what we see in the Bible is more a reflection of what we want to see than of any actual Truth. Man creating God, circa 2019 instead of 500 BCE. But it’s an interesting way into ancient history.

Both courses make it clear early on that the purpose is not spiritual guidance or any kind of theological exploration, but an examination of the Bible as a text. It’s a useful course for anyone interested in an originalist view of scripture, and understanding how history and circumstances at the time of writing shaped the texts. Because it’s an introductory course, there are lots of open questions left and other avenues to explore, but it’s a good way to define those questions and directions for further work.

Constitutional Interpretation (back when some things still mattered): Princeton MOOC

Course: Constitutional Interpretation
Length: 7 weeks, 2-5 hrs/wk
School/platform: Princeton/edX
Instructor: Robert P. George
Quote:

Though the Constitution is widely credited for the success of the United States’ republican democracy, people often disagree about how it should be interpreted. What does the Constitution mean? What does it require, and what does it forbid? In this course, we will examine competing theories of, and approaches to, constitutional interpretation.
More specifically, we ask:
• Should the provisions of the U.S. Constitution be read to give effect to the intent of their framers and ratifiers? If so, what counts as their “intent,” and how is it to be discerned?
• If “original intent” is not the touchstone of interpretation, how is the constitutional interpreter to avoid simply reading his or her own moral beliefs or political ideology into the Constitution?
• Who, by the Constitution’s own terms, has the power of judicial review, that is, to authoritatively interpret the Constitution and give effect to its principles and norms?
• If we accept the principle of judicial review, does that mean that judges always have the final say in disputed questions of what the Constitution means and requires?

One of the main points of this course was that some what we would consider fundamentals of the American constitution aren’t in the Constitution at all, but were established by court rulings. Like the idea of judicial supremacy, for instance: nine judges (at the current time), none of whom were elected, get to decide if laws passed by elected officials are legal or not. How’d that happen? It was hotly contested back in the earliest days of the 19th century, in fact, but somehow it’s managed to survive, even though Lincoln himself took a few whacks at it.

Interesting course, huh. And, in the present moment, kind of depressing, scary. So much rides on these decisions, and everything depends on the red wheelbarrow of precedent and the power of law which doesn’t feel very secure right now. In fact this course finished a couple of months ago, but I didn’t write it up because it felt so frustrating. Time to get up off the mat.

Each week looks at a different aspect, and shows what cases and decisions were crucial in forming what we more or less take for granted now. It’s all very accessible; even the cases are available in full legalistic glory, or in for-the-rest-of-us form. Though it’s large-class lecture, there’s some interaction, which always makes a course more interesting.

After six weeks of general material, five special-topic sessions are offered, of which two are required. It’s hard to pick since they’re all interesting: religious freedom, political speech, equal protection, property/contract (which is a lot more interesting than it sounds), and bodily integrity/family/reproductive law.

Each lecture started with a welcome that included online students and “community auditors”. I was curious about that, so I went looking: it seems that, for $200, pretty much anyone can sit in on most Princeton lectures in person, as long as they sit in the back and don’t say anything unless expressly invited (keep out of the way of the “real” students, so to speak). And then there are moocers, who get much the same deal for free. While edX has upped the pressure to pay – audit courses are no longer available indefinitely, and graded materials aren’t available – Princeton says, screw that, and somehow carved out its own deal. Grades were calculated, the course is available in archive, and they even email a Certificate to everyone who passes. Now that’s open.

Invasions and heresies: the Early Middle Ages (Yale OCW)

Course: The Early Middle Ages, 284–1000
Length: 22 lectures, ~50 minutes each
School/platform: Yale OCW (lectures/transcripts, no exams)
Instructor: Professor Paul Freedman
Quote:

Major developments in the political, social, and religious history of Western Europe from the accession of Diocletian to the feudal transformation. Topics include the conversion of Europe to Christianity, the fall of the Roman Empire, the rise of Islam and the Arabs, the “Dark Ages,” Charlemagne and the Carolingian renaissance, and the Viking and Hungarian invasions.

I’m beginning to get the hang of it: the Fall of the Roman Empire was more of a slide, the Holy Roman Empire was neither holy nor Roman nor an Empire, and the early leaders of the Franks had great cat names. Ok, that last one is a particular sentiment of this professor, but he isn’t wrong.

The lecture videos are all on the Yale Open Course site and on Youtube, and apparently on iTunes in some form; transcripts are available on the Yale site. This isn’t a mooc, so there aren’t any questions or assignments or discussion forums. Theoretically, there are midterms and finals in the materials somewhere, but I’ve never been able to navigate OCWs, so I never find them. Think of it as a lecture series rather than a mooc. It’s worthwhile for those who find listening to lectures easier, and more retainable, than reading a history text. I was quite happy with it, and found it filled in a lot of little gaps.

The biggest disadvantage is that maps and handouts are occasional mentioned, and while they may be somewhere in the “download course materials” folder, I wasn’t able to find them. It can be harder than you might expect to find a map showing exactly the time and events being discussed, though I think I pretty much managed to come up with relevant images from determined googling.

The opening introduction to the course featured the “invasions and heresies” line as the features that most characterize the beginning of this middle period (don’t ever call it the “dark ages” to a medievalist). There were other features – entirely new religions, cross-pollination of trade and mingling cultures, decreasing population, emergence of dynasties – and there are so many interrelated pieces, it’s hard to get it to fit together.

These aren’t the most exciting lectures, but they’re clear, there’s enough repetition and cross-referencing to help with retention, and towards the end of the series, some humor comes into play (hence the cat names). I got quite a bit out of it; I have a much better grasp of where France and England came from, though I confess, I still don’t understand the whole “fall” of Rome; I think I’m taking the word too seriously, maybe I should go with “decline”. In any case, Gibbon’s six-volume history seems to have lost its lustre; I’m glad I never got around to reading it.

A second course on the second half of the middle ages was referenced several times, but doesn’t seem to exist in the Yale Open Coursework catalog. Too bad, I would have loved to have taken it.

Temple, Tabernacle and Medicine: a pair of medieval Jewish manuscript mini-moocs

Courses:
1) The Tabernacle in Word & Image: An Italian Jewish Manuscript Revealed
and
2) The History of Medieval Medicine through Jewish Manuscripts
Length: self-paced, each takes about 2 hours total
School/platform: Penn/edX
Instructors: Alessandro Guetta, Y. Tzvi Langermann
Quote:

1) This mini-course introduces the use of early modern manuscripts for intellectual history—that is, the history of how ideas and the communication of those ideas changes over time…. explore this manuscript, its editions, and how it opens a window into Italian Jewish intellectual life only possible by attention to the physical manuscript
2) This mini-course is a general introduction to both to medieval medicine and to the value of using manuscripts…. [Professor Y. Tzvi Langermann] will not only walk the student through the basics of medical knowledge training and practice in the Jewish Middle Ages and beyond, but he will also show how clues gleaned from the particular elements of a manuscript (such as marginal notes, mistakes, and handwriting) allow us to learn a great deal that we could not have gleaned from a pristine printed version.
(both) No previous knowledge of Jewish history, intellectual history, or manuscript studies is required.

Short version: a terrific pair of lectures for anyone interested in what historians can learn from manuscripts, or medieval Jewish history, science, and culture.

These two mini-moocs aren’t so much courses as they are highly focused single lectures, a little over an hour each, on specific documents and how they reveal not just the content of the documents, but the history and norms of the time. That may sound a bit abstract, but the details explored are fascinating: everything from the interrelations of various cultures in the late medieval period, to linguistic differences, to attitudes towards religious practice.

The first mooc examines a pair of manuscripts describing the Second Temple in Jerusalem, and the Tabernacle (a temporary and portable version used before the Temple was built, particularly during the forty years the Hebrews wandered around the Sinai). The second mooc looks at a codex with three different manuscripts on medieval medical practices, and uses these as a way to trace the flow of ideas from Galen to the Islamicate to Europe.

Now, granted, these aren’t “oooh, pretty” manuscripts, the illuminated gospels and breviaries lettered in precise calligraphy. These manuscripts are far more about content than style. But, when examined and described by those who know what to look for, they turn out to be just as interesting as those with artistic flourishes.

Both professors are historians – one of intellectual history, one of medicine – so the focus was on what the manuscripts can tell us about those areas. It isn’t a matter of “in this year so-and-so did this” but a more general history, both in terms of time and scope. For example, as the Talmud had been banned in Italy and bootleg fragments were only intermittently available, different excerpts were added to various versions of the Temple manuscript. While the medical texts list drugs, they do so in Arabic and Hebrew, so marginal notes and end-page glossaries include local dialect vocabularies for practitioners who need to buy these substances from Italian vendors.

One of my favorite segments explored the purpose of documenting the physical appearance of the Temple. The work was an attempt to synthesize a variety of sources into a single description. But why? Prof. Guetta offers three possible factors: the development of “a historical mentality”; a growing awareness of dimensional perspective due to the constant exposure to flourishing Italian architecture of the period, and a reevaluation of the textual description of the Temple in light of that development; or a religious motivation, coming primarily from a specific Protestant group that was more interested in the accurate reconstruction of the Temple as a way to bring about the Second Coming.

I also have to give al-Majusi, a Persian physician, the Bad Timing Award: his comprehensive and beautifully organized medical text, part of the Codex, was considered the ultimate authority, until the renowned physician/philosopher Avicenna came along and wrote an even better text, overshadowing Majusi’s work and pushing him into relative historic obscurity.

These mini-moocs are listed as an advanced course based on predicted audience, but that shouldn’t intimidate anyone who’s interested; the material is very accessible, and all technical and cultural concepts are explained. The medical course is archived at the moment, so the forums are inactive, but all the other material is available. Both lectures are great; the Tabernacle course is slightly more polished, with an artistic lead-in to the videos and varying camera angles, but that’s pretty minor. The lectures are well-organized into specific topics, and images of pertinent sections of the manuscript are embedded in the videos. Links to the complete digitized manuscripts from the Penn collection are hard to find, but they’re there (check the Syllabus).

Grading is based on a few multiple choice questions following each part of the lecture, plus a final covering the basics. Although the forums are inactive for the medical course, the Tabernacle course TA is very helpful and promptly replied to questions and comments. The forums are not terribly active; I’m guessing enrollment is sparse, partly because it’s a niche humanities course in a world obsessed with vocational training, and partly because it wasn’t well-publicized. I stumbled across it by happy accident, in fact.

I almost missed these offerings entirely. edX hasn’t publicized the current Tabernacle course at all (I saw it on a tweet by Class Central), and it was only through the Syllabus that I learned about the Jewish Medicine course. That’s a shame, since they’re terrific. I’ve been a bit of a snob about mini-moocs (I’ve called them “Youtube plus a quiz”) but I have to re-think that. For anyone interested in Jewish cultural history, medieval medicine, or manuscript studies, these are tiny little gems.

Demons and angels and gods, oh my! mooc

Course: Oriental Beliefs: Between Reason and Traditions
Length: self-paced; 8 weeks, 2-3 hrs/wk
School/platform: Université catholique de Louvain (Belgium)/edX
Instructor: ~24 instructors
Quote:

This course takes a journey through the world of beliefs as they have developed in a great variety of cultures, ranging from Ancient Egypt, the Near East to Central Asia, India, China, and the Far East. We will discuss where these beliefs, theories and practices originated from, how they were passed on over the ages and why some are still so central to large communities of believers across the world today, whether it be amongst Jews, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists or Shintoists.
We’ll be dealing with everything from gods and spirits, to angels and demons, to afterlife and the netherworld, as well as the great cycles of the universe and the tremendous power of lunar and solar eclipses. The interpretation of dreams and all sorts of magic and miraculous deeds will also be covered during this course.

Short version: Enjoyable survey course, covering a broad range of interesting topics with a couple of deeper dives towards the end.

I’ve said several times in the past that I tend to have trouble with survey courses, that I prefer depth to breadth. Still, while there were a few “catalog lectures” early on (this god does that, this demon does the other thing), I found many of the units quite interesting – and last three weeks were great.

It’s self-paced, with all material available at the outset. I completed it in about four weeks. The course twitter account sent messages once a week about the course and some of the material covered.

The first week opened with the usual introduction, including geographic and thematic scope and a word about interdisciplinary methods used. I was relieved to find the elephant in the room – the word “Oriental” in the title, which to me felt like fingernails scratching on a blackboard – was addressed in these introductory lessons, with an acknowledgement of the critique leveled in the Edward Said book which tarnished that word for some of us.

However it should be clear that where universities still have “Oriental Studies” as an administrative department of teaching and/or research, such as the Université catholique de Louvain, it has absolutely nothing to do with a lack of sensitivity with regard to the problem just alluded to, and even less to do with a neo-colonial attitude towards the languages and cultures under scrutiny. Instead, the survival of such departments should be understood almost entirely in terms of institutional politics, numbers of students, and budgetary considerations.
While acknowledging the historical fact that Oriental Studies as a discipline originated in these universities in times when an ethnocentric approach was a norm unchallenged by anyone, the “Oriental Beliefs” team is fully aware of the global nature of its audience and we have done our utmost to avoid any kind of “Eurocentrism”, bias or prejudice.

The material was arranged, not by culture or region as might be expected, but by topic: a week on gods, another on angels and demons, then the afterlife, astrology, and magic. I would guess the idea is to get a cross-cultural perspective on these themes. Astrology and alchemy, where so much material was passed via translations and adaptations, was particularly rich in this. I was a bit surprised gods, angels, and demons weren’t explicitly connected across cultures (the nature theme, for example), since it seemed to me there were obvious similarities and differences. I probably should have been more active on the forums to discuss these.

The roster of 24 different lecturers allowed for a great deal of diversity in what was covered and how it was presented. This approach comes with advantages and disadvantages: there’s a loss of connection, since there’s no one instructor (some of us have attachment issues, y’know?), but it also allows different approaches. I had several favorites; whether it was the material, or the presentation, I can’t be sure (that would be a cool research project for mooc learning, by the way). I found the lectures on Buddhism to be nearly incomprehensible (I stuck with my interpretation – Buddha was an agnostic who incorporated Hindu gods as a marketing tool – and moved on), but 23 out of 24 is still excellent any way you cut it.

The graded material consisted of brief quizzes (“training exercises”) at the end of some units, about five per week. Most of the questions were multiple choice; a few were matching or short-answer, one was a self-graded short-answer essay. The final exam counted for 60% of the grade; it covered all seven weeks of material, so I was very glad I used Cerego as a study aid for this course, as I was refreshing my memory on earlier material all along. The material isn’t hard, it’s just that there are a lot of different parts that interrelate, and it’s easy to get them confused.

I greatly enjoyed, somewhat to my surprise, the material on astrology and astronomy, magic, and alchemy, and, even more surprisingly, sorting out the Egyptian gods and theogony (I’ve always been distinctly uninterested in ancient Egypt, but it seems there was a way to intrigue even me). I also found the centuries-long ever-evolving story of the acheiropoieton, the miraculous portrait of Jesus “not painted by human hands”, to be of great interest. I also loved the last week, a more in-depth case study of another continuing saga of a miracle, this one from Coptic Egypt involving the moving of a mountain. Manuscripts got into the act, and, well, manuscripts, what else can I say. I feel like I finally have some understanding of Copts beyond “Egyptian Christians.” That, to me, is the real value of these types of courses: we feel more connected to places we’ll probably never go, places like the Muqattam area of Cairo, Ise in Japan, Armenia, and Georgia. These days, we need all the connection we can get.

It’s a class well worth taking for a broad overview, and a brief glimpse into what more in-depth work might involve, hinted at in the introductory remarks: “Most of the time, in fact, you will be implicitly exposed to methodologies deriving from a variety of fields, including archaeology, history in general, the history of ideas, the history of religions, the history of literature, and the branch of philology called textual criticism or (in a larger sense), textual scholarship.” Oooh, now there’s a mooc I want to take! We got a glimpse of this during the last two weeks, in the tracing of the miraculous portrait and the moving of the mountain. I hope to discover more along those lines in future moocs.

Human Rights Philosophy and Theory mooc

Course: Human Rights Theory and Philosophy
Length: 12 weeks, 8-10 hrs/wk
School/platform: Curtin University (Australia)/edX
Instructor: Dr. Caroline Fleay et al
Quote:

The course commences through exploring the development of the conventional understanding of universal human rights and then moves to critiquing this concept from cultural relativist, postmodern, postcolonial and feminist perspectives. It also examines understandings of human rights from a range of cultural and religious perspectives as well as other contemporary rights issues.

Note: it seems this course is no longer available through edX.

Last year, after completing two of the Louvain international law courses, I started their Human Rights mooc; I dropped it quickly because I was exhausted from all the legal reading I’d been doing. So I was very glad this course came along, a more philosophy-based approach to human rights. While the legalese was greatly reduced, it was a course that took itself seriously, possibly because it’s part of a MicroMasters program Curtin offers in Human Rights. When taken as a Verified (i.e., paying) student, can be used to apply for admission to the degree program (as well as, I believe, earning credit in that Masters program, but check the details for yourself).

Each of the 13 weekly lessons consisted of two or three academic papers, and about 45 minutes of lecture divided into two videos. The videos were mostly voice-overs covering prepared slides (available as a separate download). You could read the transcripts, download the slides, and read the articles without watching the videos at all. The lectures were well-organized and followed the slides very closely.

Grading material took two forms: discussion board posts, which counted for 20%, and two peer assessed essays, which were 30% and 50% each. Verified students had their essays graded by the ad hoc mooc professor who also covered the discussion board. The assignments were very general – basically, sum up some part of the lectures for the period covered – yet the criteria were very specific. Sample essays were provided.

As I said, this course takes itself seriously, and the assignments reflected that: I flunked both essays. That’s not a complaint; because I was taking the course for my own purposes, I wrote about what interested me rather than worrying about criteria. In a less serious course, that sometimes works, but here, not a chance. Be forewarned if you want to take it for credit or as a path to admission: take the sample essays seriously. By the way, though I fell below the 70% pass mark on both essays, the discussion points brought me just barely up to snuff in the end. Be mindful, though, that to use the course as admissions criteria, a higher score is required (80%, I believe).

Week 1 started with a general look at human rights. Week 2 got into Locke, Hobbes, Marx, and all of the usual suspects (I’ve taken several political philosophy OCWs and the same crew always shows up), negative and positive rights. Mary Wollstonecraft was included, which was nice, since all lectures included the caveat that rights, as declared by the “classic liberals”, were for white property-owning men only (Jeet Heer would approve). In Week 3 the process of drafting and approving the UN Declaration on Human Rights was covered, along with its major provisions.

Then we moved into some critiques of the UDHR: particularly from the postmodern, postcolonial, and non-Western views. This was an eye-opening part of the course for me, and while I loved the review of early philosophy, I found weeks 4, 5, and 6 most valuable in terms of ideas new to me. Weeks 7 plus looked at critiques of the Western HR narrative from various points of view: indigenous populations, feminists, LGBTQ activists, the disabled, asylum seekers, and environmental activists.

All of these held interesting material. For example, the indigenous section was taught by Carol Dowling, a professor of aboriginal descent whose twin sister Julie is an artist painting pieces that the experience of the Australian aboriginal peoples and their family specifically. The section on rights for the Disabled included a TED talk by journalist/teacher/comedian Stella Young, who I’ve seen before in several venues; she passed away in 2014. The week on asylum seekers and refugees was heart-wrenching, given the frustration level I and so many Americans feel about our current administration’s refusal to provide more assistance.

I found it a valuable course; the ideas are very much worth understanding. It was, however, a lot more academic and less companionable than some moocs, and may not be the best starting point for some. I’ve often mentioned moocs that boiled down to “Youtube and a quiz”; this was more like “a podcast and two hours of reading you sum up for academic credit.” I wonder if that’s because it has to take itself seriously, in order to be taken seriously by academia; and I wonder if that’s a paradigm that can be changed to broaden the field.

Medieval Icelandic Sagamooc

Course: The Medieval Icelandic Sagas
Length: 6 weeks, 2-3 hrs/wk
School/platform: University of Iceland/edX
Instructor: Hjalti Snær Ægisson, Beth Rogers
Quote:

The Medieval Icelandic Sagas is an introductory course on the single most characteristic literary genre of Medieval Iceland. Mainly written in the 13th century, the Icelandic Sagas are comprised of roughly 40 texts of varying length.
In this course, you will learn about three Sagas, written at different times, with the aim of giving an overview of the writing period and the genre as a whole. These are Eyrbyggja Saga, Njáls Saga and Grettis Saga. We will explore the landscape and archaeology of Iceland to see how they can add to our understanding of the Sagas as well as take an in-depth look at the most memorable characters from the Sagas.

Short version: Terrific course for anyone interested in story structure, medieval history, contemporary research of medieval sources, or manuscripts. Presentation is sometimes a bit awkward, but the content – and the podcasts – more than make up for it.

I seem to be the only person on earth who’s never read anything based on Norse mythology: No, I haven’t read Neil Gaiman, or even LoTR (so sue me; I’ve always been anti-cool). Shame on me, considering my father’s Scandinavian background (my aunts taught me a couple of words of Swedish and a few recipes: Vetebröd, which I made every Christmas until a few years ago, mandel kakor, and kroppkakor, a potato-meat dumpling I never could get myself to even taste, it looked so gross). But beyond “Babette’s Feast” and “Sophie’s World” I’ve never been particularly interested in the details of Scandinavian culture. So this was all new to me. Well, ok, I knew about Thor and a little about Vikings, but that’s about it.

What really worked for me in this course was the multi-dimensional approach: the sagas as literature, as metaphors for Icelandic events, as sociocultural apologias, and as physical manuscripts. The purposes of the stories, the themes in various times, and the social forces affecting their popularity and remembrance all came into play. For a six-week course, they packed in a great deal, yet the reading was surprisingly limited. While we were, of course, free to read the sagas discussed in their entirety, the course focused on specific sections as exemplars of various points; individual chapters or short groups of chapters were the only assigned reading.

Each week included brief video lectures, written material (often in graphic layout), one or two interviews with an academic with particular expertise in the issues being examined, and a few ungraded “knowledge checks”. Graded material included and a weekly quiz for weeks 1-5 (totaling 40% of the final grade), the final exam (30% of the final), and three Peer Assessments, one every other week (30% of the final grade). I’m always a little anxious about peer assessments, but these were relatively simple and the grading criteria were open-ended and thus forgiving. I found the first one particularly helpful in getting the material organized in my head for better retention; the third one was basically a fun exercise.

And yes, since there were a lot of unfamiliar names, and since this was material I want to retain long-term, I used Cerego, so I’ll be getting questions about “Handing Grettir Around” periodically over the next year (you’ll have to take the course to see why that’s such a delightfully amusing prospect). This was particularly helpful when the final exam rolled around, since I’d been seeing the material at various intervals all along.

A special treat that I almost missed entirely: As a supplement to the course material, the two instructors recorded a podcast at the end of each week. I wish one of these had been available at the beginning; where in the lectures and interview, Hjalti seemed well-meaning but stern and a bit stiff (partly due to “I must appear academic” syndrome, I’d guess, and partly due to the read-lecture-to-camera that so few profs can pull off), in the podcasts he and Beth came across as real people, and delightful, fun people at that. Because manuscripts are of particular interest to me, I found the W2 episode most helpful with course material, but later episodes were great fun, featured saga/Viking re-enactors, musicians, craftspeople, and a host of off-the-cuff topics (such as reactions when people hear Beth’s dissertation is on dairy products in Scandinavian literature. Turns out, skyr is pretty interesting, and I wish Iceland luck in promoting it as a substitute for Greek yogurt (if they can produce a fat-free, sugar-free, 80-calorie, 12-grams-of-protein, fruity version for under $1 a serving, I’m in). I discovered the podcasts a bit late, only after Week 2, and they made a huge difference in my perception of the course as a whole.

I wish there had been a “preview podcast” available from the start in the course material; I think I would have had an easier time with Week 1, a general introduction to Icelandic sagas. I found this week to be the most difficult, probably because I had no background to rely on. I briefly considered giving up at some point, but I really wanted to get to W2, which focused on manuscripts. I had more background here and was able to get a better footing. From there I was hooked, through weeks on the role of landscape in the sagas, how women were portrayed, the depictions of paganism and the Church and the importance of the conflict during conversion, and the supernatural in the sagas.

The forums were active and well-supported, with questions suggested for each week. I asked a few outside questions (some of them clearly outside the course material). When it worked, it was great: I asked about the “missing rubric” mentioned in a lecture, and Beth went out of her way to bring Robert, the resident manuscript expert, to the boards; I ended up with a lovely example. The course also had a Facebook page, but since I gave up on Facebook way way back when they decided they could manage my feed better than I could (and have no desire to start again, given the disclosures of recent weeks), I missed out on that.

I greatly enjoyed all of it. I feel like I’ve made new friends with poor, misunderstood Grettir, with the merciful Þorbjörg, the chieftain’s wife who saved him from hanging; with Flosi, who avenged the death of Hildigunnur’s husband when she whetted him with the bloody and then suffered from enormous guilt and pain; with Thorgeir, the pagan chieftain who lay under a skin blanket at Alþingi for a day and a half before agreeing to the Christianization of Iceland, then threw his pagan statues into Goðafoss, the waterfall of the gods. I loved learning about things like the Gráskinna, the “ gray skin” manuscript with the sealskin cover that, through subtle changes, makes Hallgerður more sympathetic to the reader; about the contemporary researchers like Jesse Byock, who excavated Mosfell in search of clues about Egils saga, and Emily Lethbridge whose SagaMap plots locations from the different sagas.

I’ll miss them all, and I’m glad I got to know just a little bit about Old Norse, Iceland, and their sagas. And, of course, I can revisit them any time, just by opening a window.

Arab-Islamic History mooc

Course: Arab-Islamic History: From Tribes to Empires
Length: 9 weeks, 3-4 hrs/wk
School/platform: IsraelX/edX
Instructor: Miri Shefer-Mossensohn
Quote:
You and I are about to embark on a journey through 1,000 years of history. This is a pre-modern case of global history, spanning three continents and the lives of millions. We’ll visit some of the sites where historical events occurred. We’ll learn about regimes; we’ll learn about people– men, women, children, who walked the streets of the Middle East. We’ll be accompanied by some of the best scholars of the pre-modern Middle East– colleagues from Tel Aviv University and from other institutions here in Israel, the US, and the UK. You’ll have ample opportunities to enter the historian’s lab and have hands-on experience in playing the historical detective yourself by reading excerpts from historical works and looking at paintings, artifacts, and buildings. These will allow us to piece together a picture of the past– the stories of individuals, their lifestyles, their common perceptions, their customs, and allow us, eventually, to explain the profound changes in political organization, in social interaction, and in religious affiliation.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve taken several courses touching briefly on the history of various pieces of the medieval Muslim empire. This one was a lot more focused and a bit more extensive, and I finally feel like I’m beginning to get it. I still have trouble keeping all the threads straight, since a lot was going on in a lot of places – the Arabian peninsula, the Levant, Iran, central Asia, north Africa, Iberia – among a lot of people – Arabs, Samanids, Buyhids, Fatimids, Andalusians, Seljuks, Berbers, Mamluks, Sassanids, Persians, Mongols – and much of it overlaps as groups assimilate, migrate, conquer, or get conquered. But I feel like I’ve made a solid start, and since I created a Cerego set for the course, I’ll be reminded of all of it from time to time and will retain at least the basics of who, what, when, where, why.

The course begins with five weeks of history, starting from Mohammed and moving to the entry of the Ottomans. Yes, there were leaders and battles and invasions, but there were also little family dramas that played out in political reality, along with dramas of how that political power was legitimized and exercised across an empire consisting of many different groups, and the ways in which the empire maintained unity. Then we looked at cultural aspects: how people lived, religious details, the Translation Project, and the flourishing of arts and sciences in the Middle East, while keeping in mind the interplay between history and culture.

Each week featured a variety of learning media: Video lectures, of course, but also written documents, punctuated by beautiful manuscript illustrations (and available as PDFs for those, like me, who want to copy everything so we can refer to it forever), and interviews with a variety of academic specialists. All of these were followed by brief, ungraded knowledge checks which are useful for highlighting central points. A graded quiz finished off each week.

I was impressed by the final exam, which was weighted at 60% of the final grade. Most of it was information retrieval, but the context of the questions made it a bit more of a challenge than just a rephrase of the material, and several questions required combining individual facts. I even discovered two errors in my Cerego cards thanks to the final – which makes me worry: how many more errors lurk unfound?

A unique feature of the course was the ungraded Historian’s Lab. Each week, a source document (in translation) or artifact was provided, along with some questions relating to the week’s topic for forum discussion. I was a bit lost here, and very intimidated by the evident expertise, so I didn’t add anything but gained some insight from comments of other students, sometimes confirming and often expanding my initial impressions. It’s a handy way to provide an extra challenge in the course, since most moocs have students at every level from absolute novices to accomplished scholars.

I of course was drawn to the manuscripts and descriptions of the different scripts used over the centuries, though this was a very small part of the course. I smiled throughout at the pseudo-animation of various manuscript illustrations, sometimes a collage of separate images, with slight movements and sound effects running over the lecture. Because I follow several medievalists on Twitter, I sometimes see images from Arabic, Persian, or Turkish manuscripts; a week ago Emily Steiner (@PiersAtPenn) tweeted images from the Book of Kings, which we just covered this week. Combine that with Peter Adamson (@HistPhilosophy, of HoPWaG fame) being in a non-Western philosophy phase at the moment and retweeting a photo of a contemporary statue of Avicenna from Dushanbe, Tajikistan, just yesterday, and I’m really glad I took this course. In fact, I’m ready for more!

Global History of Architecture mooc

Course: A Global History of Architecture
Length: 12 weeks, 8 hrs/wk
School/platform: MIT/edX
Instructor: Mark Jarzombek
Quote:

How do we understand architecture? One way of answering this question is by looking through the lens of history, beginning with First Societies and extending to the 16th century. This course in architectural history is not intended as a linear narrative, but rather aims to provide a more global view, by focusing on different architectural “moments”….
…Why study the history of architecture? Architecture stages cultural dramas. Buildings, in that sense, are active, designed to do something. Different buildings activate their surroundings in different ways. We go to history to see how these experiments were done.

To call this course “The History of Architecture” does it a disservice, since it’s a history of so much more – of cultures, religions, trade and commerce, and, as we go from the first indications of human modifications of the environment, from the 70,000-year-old ochre and beads of Blombos Cave in South Africa, to the pre-Holocene peoples of Europe, Asia, and the Pacific Rim, through the Bronze and Iron ages to Classical civilizations, across the innovations of Chinese, Indian, and Middle Eastern peoples reaching the European Gothic and Renaissance periods via trade, to the exploitation of New World peoples by Old World commerce, the history of our brilliance, our goodness, our stupidity and cruelty, our human-ness. It’s really quite amazing, how much is packed into these twelve weeks.

I’ll admit, I was a bit confused at first – I never expected lemurs to lead off an architecture course – and I wondered if it had simply been mistitled, and should be Archeology or Anthropology. But that was ok, too, it was interesting whatever it was, and eventually I caught on to the point: our skyscrapers, our political systems, our religious belief and the way we furnish our houses, all that proceeded from that paleolithic cave. Somewhere in the last four weeks, the quote above about cultural dramas and activating surroundings appeared, and I fully realized the value of this approach. I do think an introductory video would be a big help, however.

I’m beginning to understand that the term “architecture” encompasses more than buildings. The arrangement of places for various activities – sleeping, eating, burials, ceremonies – was prevalent in some of the early discussions of First Societies, the earliest examples of people living in groups, today exemplified by the !Kung (or San: yes, like the guy from The Gods Must Be Crazy). Yet many of their customs are still with us: eating together, forming circles, rituals for coming of age and hunting (or, as we’d put it, going to work). Prof. Jarzombek is a specialist in First Societies, so we spent a fair amount of time with the Gravettians and the Magdalenians, noting the differences between the two.

I’ve taken world history courses that didn’t cover history as well as this course, in terms of the big picture. Where were the most active population centers, and why? What beliefs, available materials, and situational needs motivated the culture and thus the architectures? Climate changes and environmental upheaval such as earthquakes changed trade routes, motivated invasions and migrations, and offered or shut down trade. It was all fascinating, one long story of people moving around, adapting to new conditions. Yet some major world history events were ignored: The Crusades, for example, are not mentioned. Sometimes the timeline got a little blurred, since there was necessarily some back-and-forth as the focus switched geographical areas (and I assume there’s a “Part 2” course that picks up where we left off, but that hasn’t made it to moocland yet). I felt like I understood the general flow of human history much better by the end of this course, and once I got used to the presentation style (it took a couple of weeks), I had a great time.

And then of course there were buildings, plenty of buildings. Stonehenge, pyramids, Angkor Wat, the basilica of St. Peter, the Hagia Sofia and Dome of the Rock were all featured, but there was a great deal besides: the coastal villages of the Haida, the Maasai in Kenya and the Hammer in Ethiopia, Maltese cave temples, the roof-accessible houses of the early city at Çatal Hüyük (now Turkey), the city of Cahokia – the Native American metropolis that was larger than the London of its time, and remained the largest city in what is now the US until Philadelphia of the early 19th century – steppes, caves, shores, mountains, forests… well,I could go on, but you get the idea. From the adjoining square houses of Turkey, accessible only from the roof, to the amazing rock-cut temples in India, the beautiful mosques with fantastic arches and domes to Hindu and Buddhist shrines and Greek temples and Christian basilicas and Gothic cathedrals to Versailles, it was just amazing to see what people come up with no matter what their level of technology.

The final lecture was a fascinating look at buildings over time, a subject mentioned several times during the course but really brought to fruition at the end. Some buildings, like Greek and Roman temples, weren’t meant to be expanded; new buildings were added later on. The Egyptians, on the other hand, were happy to expand the temple at Karnak over the years, and the same happened with Christian churches and Muslim mosques. Buildings that were originally pagan temples became churches, mosques, synagogues as populations changed. Then we looked at issues of restoration and preservation. Interesting questions about authenticity came up. And then there’s the amazing approach of Jorge Otero-Pailos, who, among other things, removes layers of dirt from buildings using a special rubber compound, then displays those layers in sequence, in a kind of archaeology of soot. Without the course preceding this lecture, would it have affected me so deeply? I suspect not.

I’m pretty sure this was a pre-existing OCW recycled as a mooc. Sometimes this repackaging works, sometimes it doesn’t; here, I think it did, although I have to admit the content had far more to do with my enthusiasm than the presentation. The ‘live” in-class lecture approach is a bit less polished than a multiple-take video, but I still prefer it, as read-to-camera so often comes off as stilted and nervous. The professor’s enthusiasm and off-the-cuff commentary more than made up for image quality and occasionally confusing syntax.

I did have a hard time finding a good image of the professor for this post. I always try to find a snip that is representative of the course, visually interesting on its own, and reasonably flattering. In this case, where most of the videos were shot in the dark with the prof wandering in and out of projector light, I had to make some compromises, but I don’t think that sort of thing weighs heavily on anyone’s decision to take the course or not.

The lectures were basically slide shows accompanied by narratives about a period, or descriptions of the architecture under consideration.The visuals were sometimes hard to see, but most of them are available online elsewhere, with the exception of maps drawn on Google Earth scenes, which were… pretty messy, to be honest, and not intuitive. But I understand his point about maps showing current nation boundaries being useless in this context; his maps did contain useful information about migration patterns and available resources. They’re worth getting used to.

Each week includes two lectures, both about 90 minutes. They estimate 8 hours a week is required for the course; that sounds reasonable to me, though it took me longer because of the way I do things (and I’m slow). A free online textbook was provided; it’s huge, and I found it difficult to use, but I’m not that comfy with online books; someone more used to Kindles and such might find it much easier. A print version is available; it’s pricey, but if I were a freshman humanities student, I’d invest in it. For that matter, if I could find a used copy for $15, I’d buy it.

Grading was based on “homework” – a few multiple-choice questions following most of the lectures – and on four exams given at regular intervals. The homework doesn’t count for much; the exams are weighted far more heavily; view the homework as practice for the exams, and as extra credit. The exam questions are half multiple choice, half labeling or identifying; no surprises, all information retrieval, though once in a while a topic not explicitly covered in the lectures (but presumably in the text) will show up.

I found Cerego invaluable here; there was just too much stuff to remember it all without constant reinforcement. While it’s time-consuming to enter important points from each lecture into a quiz set, it serves as studying, and it was very much worth it when the exams rolled around. And it’s still nice to see the early material cropping up, reminding me of the rest of the lecture around key points. Makes me smile.

The discussion boards were very active with “official” threads for topics Staff set up; I didn’t participate so I can’t speak to the quality of discussions or staff presence. I personally dislike overdirected commentary, but it does provide structure, so it’s really a matter of preference.

I’d highly recommend the course for its broad approach and fascinating content, with the caveat that the presentation isn’t as “slick” as some courses made for moocs. I’m more than willing to make that tradeoff. I feel like I know the world better as a result of this course, and that’s as good as education gets.

How Oxford MOOCs (charmingly, I must say) – From Poverty to Prosperity: Understanding Economic Development

Course: From Poverty to Prosperity: Understanding Economic Development
Length: 6 weeks, 2-3 hrs/wk
School/platform: Oxford/edX
Instructor: Sir Paul Collier
Quote:

How can poor societies become prosperous and overcome obstacles to do so?… By enrolling you will have the opportunity not only to interact with the course materials but also to participate in a live Q&A session with Professor Collier.
This course will discuss and examine the following topics:

• The role of government and the key political, social and economic processes that affect development;
• Why societies need polities that are both centralised and inclusive, and the process by which these polities develop;
• The social factors that are necessary for development, including the importance of identities, norms, and narratives;
• The impact of economic processes on development, including discussion about how government policies can either promote or inhibit the exploitation of scale and specialisation;
• The external conditions for development, including trade flows, capital flows, labour flows and international rules for governance.

Short version: A completely charming, highly informative course for those not terribly familiar with global economics. And, trust me, “charming” is the last word I’d ever expect to use about economics.

When I saw Oxford was now on edX, I was seriously psyched. I’ve become rather used to taking courses from Harvard and MIT at this point (and Stanford and Duke and Penn and…) but wow, Oxford? THE Oxford? I was very curious to see what they’d come up with. But… did it have to be economics?

For me, economics is one step below project management on the scale of things I never want to think about. I signed up anyway, figuring I’d take a peek and unenroll. I guess I was expecting something out of Shadowlands: dark, musty rooms with overstuffed chairs, stuffy dudes running around in weird cloaks, and boring ugly words like “marginal utility” and “commodities”, formulae and graphs. Instead, I found wonderful stories about incompetent but strong farmers bullying competent but weak farmers into submission and doing business with the apple orchards in the next valley and what happened in England when the Romans pulled out in 410 CE and all about the Dutch flooding the fields to hold off the Hapsburgs …. So I hung around.

The first three weeks continued in storytelling vein, with occasional mentions of scary words in a nonintrusive way, like “in other words, we need a market” or “the technical word for this is decentralization”. The real world was always part of the moral of the story, and I found it fascinating to hear why 20th century Tanzania developed much more peacefully than Kenya in spite of having the same mix of tribal cultures thrown together by European-drawn boundaries (that third week on narratives and identities, and their effect on national policy and democracy, also struck a lot closer to home; frankly, it scared what was left of the hell out of me because it put a vocabulary and a dismal prediction to what I see snowballing every day). Things got a bit more nitty-gritty in weeks four and five, but by then I really wanted to find out how Buttonopolis (aka Qiaotou, China, where 2/3 of the world’s buttons are made) came about, or how the tiny island nation of Mauritius developed its economy via serendipitous garment manufacturing.

Each week included video lectures, delivered to an unseen/unheard class (maybe; it might have just been production crew or even an empty room, but it was convincing and served the purpose) rather than read-to-camera, a technique more mooc teams should consider. Early on, some ungraded “Think!” activities were included, such as: Which Risk of Protest graph do you think applies to a democracy, and which to an autocracy? What would you advise the Head Thug to do when the farmers see another bigger stronger thug coming over the hill? (My one problem with the course was a visceral reaction to the repeated use of the word “thug”, since it’s becoming a racial epithet in America.) A short multiple choice quiz closed out each week, along with a discussion prompt. During the course, students submitted questions which were answered in a Week 5 Youtube Q&A session featuring Prof. Collier and mooc team leader Rafat Ali Al-Akhali. Week 6 was set aside for the final peer-assessed assignment applying concepts from the course to a country of our choice.

Each of the three graded components – quizzes, discussion, final essay – weighed fairly evenly in the final grade, and skipping any one would have made a passing grade impossible (or at least, very difficult). At first I was going to skip the discussion element, maybe even the final essay, out of a combination of intimidation and respect for the other students who came from all over and were, from what I could see, earnestly focused on learning something that would contribute to meaningful change for their countries and the world. But the course was engaging and motivating enough to convince me to give it a shot. I’m not particularly proud of the quality of my comments or essay, but I came quite a ways from less-than-zero.

Oxford has done a terrific job here making the material accessible and intriguing for beginners (and econophobes). And it turns out, the course material fits into their motivation for making the course: Week 4 lists “an informed citizenry” as one of the key elements to changing a society, and the final lecture underlined the mission:

How can that knowledge be applied? What can you do with it? And I think there are two aspects to that.
One is, how can you, as an individual, put that knowledge to use in the life that you lead, the career that you forge? …
But then there’s a larger role, which is that, you are a citizen in your own society and you’re a citizen in the world. And there are these two struggles. The struggle to set domestic policies that are more conducive to the escape from poverty, and the struggle to set international policies so they are more conducive to the escape from poverty. You, as a citizen, can play your part in that and I hope you will.

Sir Paul Collier

We’re trying over here, Professor, really we are, many of us. But some of our leaders seem determined to send us all back to the darkest parts of the Dark Ages, and too often they’ve rigged the game in their favor.

I can highly recommend this course for anyone who’s interested in getting an intro to economics, or is just curious about how the world works, in terms of haves and have-nots and why that’s the case. There’s nothing quantitative in it at all; there are a few graphs, but they’re about visualizing concepts, not learning formulas. And, as shown above, it includes its own motivation.

The best part of all these moocs – this one, the International Law series, the ChinaX series, al of them taken with people from everywhere – is that I’m beginning to know a little about the world beyond my window. I’ve discovered the best way to learn about the world is to learn about the world, not wring my hands and whine about being stupid. I can do a quiz game to find Bahrain on a map or memorize the capital of Azerbaijan – and all that is very helpful – but it’s another thing entirely to find out why Zambia sends some of its exports through Mozambique and some through South Africa. And, in the process, learning more about being an informed and effective citizen right here at home.

Justice MOOC

Course: Justice
Length: 12 weeks, 2-4 hrs/wk (self-paced, open 6 months)
School/platform: Harvard via edX
Instructor: Michael J. Sandel
Quote:

Justice explores critical analysis of classical and contemporary theories of justice, including discussion of present-day applications.…The course invites learners to subject their own views on these controversies to critical examination.
The principal readings for the course are texts by Aristotle, John Locke, Immanuel Kant, John Stuart Mill, and John Rawls. Other assigned readings include writings by contemporary philosophers, court cases, and articles about political controversies that raise philosophical questions.
What you’ll learn
• The fundamentals of political philosophy
• An understanding of social justice and criminal justice, and the roles they play in the modern justice system
• A deeper sense of the philosophy that underlies modern issues such as affirmative action, same sex marriage, and equality
• The ability to better articulate and evaluate philosophical arguments and ask philosophical questions

Back in the late 80s, PBS ran a series called “Ethics in America” led by a Harvard law school professor. He’d present a fairly straightforward situation to a panel made up of a variety of professionals – former government officials, educators, lawyers, doctors, journalists, it varied depending on the theme of the week – and ask, “What would you do, and why?” Then he’d complicate the situation, and complicate it again in a different way and see if the person still felt the action was the best course. Something like Socrates’ use of elenchus, I believe.

Michael Sandel has been teaching the Justice course at Harvard, the basis for this mooc, for thirty years, and it operates along the same lines as the PBS series. There may well be some organic connection, given the timing and similarity.

I remember watching the series as ethical principles were edited, sometimes abandoned. Sometimes it was because, they’d admit, they simply weren’t up to what their ethical belief required of them. But my take-away was that no one system of ethics works 100% of the time, that we mostly operate in a kind of ethical relativism (oh, that dirty word), evaluating each situation and determining priorities of principles. Funny thing is, just within the past few years I’ve been learning a lot about Jonathan Haidt and system 1/system 2 decision making: the theory is, we make decisions, including ethical decisions, almost instantaneously by gut instinct, then search for a logical reason to defend those decisions. I kept that in mind as I worked through the course.

Sandel’s book Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do is an optional companion volume to the mooc; several chapters are included in the online readings. I’ve ordered it, just to have everything in one place.

I took a different approach to this course: because it was evident it was a back-and-forth discussion live-taped with a (very large) in-person class, I decided to forego my usual saving of video transcripts and readings. I just winged it. I’ve taken just about every philosophy course offered by both Coursera and edX, as well as a couple of Yale OCWs on political philosophy, so the material presented was familiar. A hypothetical case served as a starting point for discovering the limits of utilitarianism, libertarianism, and all the other -isms.

I heard a new context for Locke’s property rights in relation to the appropriation of native American land by colonial, and later, American, forces; I got a better understanding of Kant’s Categorical Imperative; and even though I will forever mis-refer to John Rawls as Lou Rawls (I just will; yes, I know the difference between the philosopher and the musician, so shut up) I’m glad I got more opportunity to look at his ideas beyond the veil of ignorance.

Each of the mooc’s 24 modules began with a Moral Dilemma poll (with a few exceptions), followed by a half-hour live-taped class session with 1000 students in the beautiful Sanders Hall. But don’t let the number put you off: the sessions have a remarkably intimate feel, as individual students answer “What would you do” questions and defend their choices, sometimes using philosophical language, sometimes just speaking off the cuff and allowing Sandel to guide them to a more formal statement of guiding principle. He asks the name of every student, and seems to remember it later on. Differences are viewed less as arguments than as multiple ways of approaching an issue. It’s really quite something to watch.

In terms of grades, the multiple-choice final exam is extra-weighted (70%). Unit quizzes and the Moral Dilemma polls make up the rest. The polls are graded on participation only; a situation is presented, and a choice between two or three options is allowed, along with a chance to write as much or as little as you like to defend your choice, and a chance to change your mind upon reading other opinions. I’d be very curious to know how many people changed their position; I suspect more than a few changed their rationale (I did several times, since others worded it more clearly) but I don’t think I changed sides at all. This in itself led to some self-reflection: am I closed to other ideas, or have I simply thought things through carefully?

For me, grades had little to do with this. I considered it a highly successful class, albeit one I zipped through, partly because it was so enjoyable, and partly because I was comfortable with the territory. I’m going to enjoy revisiting it all when I read the book.

International Humanitarian Law MOOC

Course: International Humanitarian Law
Length: 7 weeks
School/platform: Université catholique de Louvain
Instructors: Raphaël Van Steenberghe, Jerôme de Hemptinne
Quote:

Starting with the sources and subjects of IHL, as well as its scope of application, the course will address the main substantive norms of IHL governing: the conduct of hostilities; the protection afforded to persons in the hands of the enemy; occupation; and implementation of IHL.
We will discuss questions such as:
    • who and what can be targeted by the enemy.
    • which weapons can be used.
    • which method of warfare is authorized.
    • who enjoys protection and what type of protection.
    • which norms apply in non international armed conflicts.
We will also deal with the different ways through which IHL can be implemented and how belligerents may be held accountable for violations of its rules when committing war crimes or crimes against humanity.

Short version: Fascinating course, highly relevant to current events, but be prepared to do some serious work. I took the preliminary International Law mooc (listed as a prerequisite, for good reason) last fall, so I had some idea what to expect. Don’t be discouraged by a poor showing on the first exam: it’s the hardest of the course, and it’s possible to recover from a horrible score and finish with a reasonably decent grade. Trust me. 😉

The course was divided into three sections. The first, two weeks long, outlined the distinctions between IHL and Human Rights law. IHL pertains to rights and responsibilities in times of armed conflict: the Geneva Convention quoted in ever war movie since the late 40s (it’s actually a suite of four, plus a couple of Additional Protocols and various Advisory Opinions, but you get the general idea). In contrast, Human Rights law is more about overarching basics and has nothing to do with war. The two are related, and that relationship took up a significant portion of the first week: how to interpret one in light of the other, and which way that works in various situations and by what principle according to whose pronouncement. It sounds simple now, but it took me an embarrassingly long time to know which was which. This first section also looked at sources of IHL, and the history of its development.

The details of IHL – types of armed conflicts (international, non-international, occupation) and forces (state forces, armed groups, terrorists) – started the second section (3 weeks) and was likewise tricky, but essential to understanding so many contemporary conflicts. Then the focus was on the Geneva Convention relating to protection of POWs and civilians, and the very complicated question of the civilian soldier. Rules of weaponry, tactics, and targeting finished up the section; much of this material was intense, particularly since things were happening in the real world at the same time: the illegal use of chemical weapons in Syria, the US bombing in response, the superbomb in Afghanistan.

The final section in weeks 6 and 7 covered the legal framework of IHL – the International Committee of the Red Cross, the International Criminal Court, the UN, individual international Tribunals and hybrid ad hoc courts – and the legal methods of sanctioning violations of IHL and prosecuting war crimes. This was a welcome relief, in terms of both workload and topic.

Each week featured several videos and readings outlining individual situations and cases. The course lists a time allowance of 6 to 8 hours a week; I estimate I spent about 12 to 14 hours a week in the middle section, a bit less elsewhere. Some of that is because of my process of obsessive note-taking, but it’s not the sort of material where I can listen to a video, read a page, and be on my way; it takes multiple plays/readings, and time to understand, incorporate, and relate to prior material. I have no legal or international background other than the one prior course; others may find it much easier. Each week also featured an extended (about a half hour) discussion with practicing IHL professionals: professors at various institutions, as well as organizational, military, and diplomatic specialists, fleshing out the academic discussion with practical considerations and the realities of the real world.

Addendum: I realized, after publishing, that I’d left out a paragraph, sorry! I did have one disappointment with this course, and that was in the reliance on lectures laden with textbook language. Given the unusual relevance of the topics covered, I wonder if it would be possible to present a more engaging class, one with opening questions and more of a conversational feel. I suspect that’s not the way they do things in law schools, but maybe a mooc should try to be a bit different. Then again, given that this is something of an extension of a bricks-and-mortar degree, it might be wise to prioritize academic tone and intent rather than try to become more accessible to less targeted interests.

Grading was divided among three sources. One or two multiple choice questions followed most videos or readings, which together counted for about roughly a third of the final grade. Each section, as outlined above, ended with an assignment: two were multiple choice, one was a peer-assessed essay (for Verified students, this was staff-graded). These also counted for about a third. The final multiple choice exam (for Verified students, another essay was added on) comprised the final third.

I was taking the “WWI and Philosophy” course concurrent with this one, which had some interesting congruences: the Clauswitz philosophy against the development of IHL, the German idealists and the Just War principle. The recent ISIS destruction of Palmyra and other cultural treasures came up in both. For the record, it was a violation of international law, but good luck enforcing that, particularly when dealing with an armed group rather than a state. And that, right there, is the main problem with IHL: while there’s no doubt the rules have helped to some degree to contain the suffering that comes with war, enforcement is inadequate at best. Once in a while justice can be done – we looked at tribunals regarding the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda – but mostly it’s a matter of permitting third-party attacks upon military targets in response to violations as a means of deterrence. This wasn’t glossed over in the course, by the way.

Another interesting real-life crossover – or sort of real-life: for several months I’ve been listening to a podcast covering individual episodes of the 2000-2006 TV show The West Wing. Yes, we’re weird, but some of us need some liberal porn in these times. During this course, one of the episodes discussed involved war crimes, and the podcast featured a rather extensive (for an entertainment podcast) discussion with the US former ambassador to the UN, David Pressman covering various aspects of war crimes. I was pleased to recognize so many concepts. I wish I’d been able to ask some questions about the specific incident depicted in the show (I don’t think Leo, as jet pilot, was obligated to verify his target was, in fact, military; that was his superior’s responsibility; and then there’s the retroactivity issue), but alas, the podcast upfront is one way.

This is, as I’ve said, the second of the Louvain international law courses I’ve taken. I’m still enrolled in the Human Rights Law segment, but it seems less approachable so I’ve left it for “someday”. The fourth segment is on investment law, a topic that carries no interest for me whatsoever. These four courses comprise the Louvain MicroMasters, which, if passed (as a Verified student, $150 fee) complete about a third of the credits necessary for a Master’s degree from Louvain (I’m not sure of the subject of the degree, I haven’t looked that closely).

Verified students had a slightly different exam path in this course: the essay for the third assignment is staff-graded rather than peer-assessed, and the final includes another staff-graded essay instead of an additional set of multiple choice questions.. I’ve been highly critical of courses that offer different assessment practices for audit and verified students (that is, those who pay and those who don’t) but here, where academic accreditation is an option, I think it’s a valid approach. The purpose is not to get people to pay for a certificate that’s of dubious value, but to more accurately assess students who might be using the credits earned in the degree program. It’s also a creative approach to using moocs as a supplement, rather than a replacement, to higher education, making credentials more accessible to a wider field. At least, that’s my view from well outside academia.

Even though I have no practical reason to take these courses, they’ve been helpful in seeing a larger picture and interpreting events in different ways. I probably could’ve done the same thing without quite so much work, but I like a challenge.

Architectural MOOC

Course: The Architectural Imagination
Length: 10 weeks, 3-5 hours/week
School/platform: Harvard/edX
Instructors: K. Michael Hays et al
Quote:

Architecture is not just about the need for shelter or the need for a functional building. In some ways, it’s just what exceeds necessity that is architecture. And it’s the opening onto that excess that makes architecture fundamentally a human endeavor….
Architecture is one of the most complexly negotiated cultural practices there is. And a single instant involves all of the aesthetic, technological, economic, political issues of social production itself. And indeed, in some ways, architecture, as we’ll see, helps articulate history itself. These are all big claims. And we’ll need big ideas to address these claims. And we’ll also need very specific, concrete examples of architectural projects and events from history. Welcome to The Architectural Imagination, an online introduction to the history and theory of architecture.

Every so often, maybe once a decade, I look at a book on architecture to see if I still don’t get it. To me, architecture is about making sure the building doesn’t fall down, but I kept running into either technical explanations of perspective or grand statements about the historical impact of the arch that I can read but not understand. The above excerpt from the introductory lecture – architecture as “what exceeds necessity” – makes more sense than anything I’ve encountered so far. That isn’t to say I was able to go much further with it, but I got a sense of what is meant by the word, anyway, and why my prior conceptualization didn’t work.

I greatly enjoyed the breadth of scope presented: yes, there was some technical work on perspective (and it turned out to be completely understandable and very interesting in relation to some ideas about subject and object), and some of the more artistic concepts eluded me, but there was also history and philosophy and literature. It was quite marvelous.

I ended up taking it as a recreational mooc, partly because I was overloaded with other courses, and partly because, somewhere around Week 5, I just sort of lost the thread of what was happening. I did get back into the groove in the last three weeks, first through utopian cities, and then was greatly moved by the final week’s stunning examination of Berlin’s Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. The course was worth it for that lecture alone: the refusal of forgive and forget, the depth of the wound, the erasure of names, comparisons with the Prague and Mount of Olives burial sites. Another mooc that made me cry.

The course was divided into three modules of three to four weeks each: Form & History, The Technology Effect, and Representation & Context. A different major work was the focus for each week – Italian villas, the Pompidou Center in Paris, German factories, even Utopian city designs that were never built – with additional works brought in as supported the material. Although Dr. Hays did most of the lectures, several other instructors appeared for individual weeks.

The material was based on beautifully produced weekly lectures of about 30 to 40 minutes, broken up into five or six segments, with a substantial reading selection available via pdf for about half of the weeks. Exercises were varied: some required drawing, some were multiple-choice or identification questions about the lecture or reading, some were self-graded short essay questions ranging from outlining the presented material to applying concepts to a new project.

I didn’t really use the forums. It seemed to me there were a lot of more advanced students and I was intimidated and didn’t want to clutter things up, plus they were oddly formatted (I wish mooc designers would realize that pinning more than two or three threads is self-defeating). One comment went unnoticed, perhaps because of the forum setup, perhaps because it was too naïve for the rest of the class. This didn’t help with the intimidation factor, but that’s my problem.

I was quite proud of a couple of the written answers I gave. One asked for an analysis of perspective as seen in a medieval cathedral. The other: analyze the Behrens turbine factory according to Semper’s theoretic structure. I was surprised by my response to this. While the building itself seemed to me like any other factory, I had a great time creating a little story based on conceptual images for hearth, container, framework, and wrap. I also had rather a fun time with the Barcelona Pavilion; I’m sure I missed the mark entirely, but since I come from a land of narratives, I again came up with a story of the posts pushing themselves up from the ground and being restrained from overreaching. I was a bit shocked to be reminded of this in the last week with the Berlin monument: again, a sense of reaching up from the ground, but a far more somber, and important, sense and purpose.

However, I must admit most of my answers were mediocre at best. In the first week of the course, we were to give a sort of pre-course descriptive comparison of two buildings, paying attention to various general aspects: the relationship to the ground, the openings from inside to outside, that sort of thing. I wrote extensively about a very white building on a very green lawn, pegging it as some kind of high-tech research lab for genetic engineering or microcircuitry; it turned out, I discovered later, to be a world-famous house by Corbusier designed to provide a “democratic space” under the private space, and to allow great freedom of movement and vision. Could’ve fooled me. Did fool me.

Part of my problem is that I seem to be lacking any visual artistic sensibility. One building was described as having panes of glass “tilted slightly away from the base, tilted inward toward the building”; this gives “visual weight to the column” and “puts the glass plane on display as a plane.” At least, they tell me it does. Am I supposed to be able to sense that when I look at the pictures? Is this something that requires development, by looking at lots of buildings? If so, if it’s an acquired taste, doesn’t that make it artificial, something learned rather than a natural property, something about the physical structure that triggers brain activity in a certain way that means “weight”, in somewhat the same way that we know which end of an object is closer based on size differentials?

Yes, I really am this clueless, and it’s why I’m frustrated by every art-related course I take. I keep trying, though, and I’m grateful for courses like this one that let me see what is possible, even if I can’t join in.

Mao MOOC

Course: Mao to Now: On Chinese Marxism
Length: 6 weeks
School/platform: University of Newcastly (AU)/edX
Instructor: Roland Boer
Quote:

Rather than praising or condemning, the course focuses on building a deeper understanding of this history through two interwoven elements.
The first structures the course in terms of some ‘red tourism’ to the sites important to the communist revolution in the first half of the twentieth century.
Much of the course footage was filmed on location in China, including Shaoshan, Ruijin, Yan’an and important locations in Beijing, such as Tiananmen and the Nationalities Museum (minzuyuan).
The second element of the course will take those experiences and use them to help answer some fundamental questions:
    • Is China socialist or capitalist today, or is it perhaps both at one and the same time?
    • Is there such a thing as Chinese socialist democracy, and, if so, what is it?
    • Does China have its own theory of human rights, drawn from the long Chinese tradition and Marxism?
    • If the Chinese state is a form that has not been seen before, then what is it?

I really liked the structure of this course: each week after the first covered a location important to Mao’s life, from his birthplace to the location of the first Chinese soviet to the end of the Long March to the mausoleum at Beijing. Lectures are shot at various locations in those cities, in one of the most on-site moocs I’ve taken.

However, I’m left with the feeling that this was a very one-sided picture. In fact, if the Chinese government produced a mooc on Mao, I’m guessing it would look a lot like this, and given the extended access for filming lectures, I have to wonder if there was any outside influence on content. For example, I’m not sure how it’s possible to discuss Mao’s influence on China without mentioning the Cultural Revolution. But then, I’m the first to admit I know virtually nothing about modern China. Some scenes had me wondering if there was a subtext: for example, the video scenes of National Day celebrations in Tianamen Square, while discussing the enormous crowds gathering from the early hours and the respectful and celebratory atmosphere, all featured generous phalanxes of soldiers and police. I looked through some images of typical Fourth of July celebrations in Washington, DC, but I wouldn’t draw any conclusions based on such a casual experiment.

Grading took a variety of forms: most of the points came from multiple choice midterm and final exams, but peer instruction quizzes contributed significantly as well: single questions with four options for an answer. After entering a short explanation of one’s choice, the reasoning other students used for each answer was displayed before final submission of an answer. Additionally, participation in class polls earned a small number of points. I found it interesting to have so much exposure to what others were thinking, and it’s always nice to have different forms of evaluation. On the forums, I ran into a Chinese student I’d met in an earlier ancient Chinese philosophy course. Hang around moocs enough, and you start to recognize a lot of names.

Prof. Boer refers to himself as a Christian Communist; he teaches both in Australia and in China. Overall, I’d call the course a biography, with elements of political theory, history, and philosophy. In spite of, or perhaps because of the strong point of view differing from the one I’ve been exposed to in the US, I enjoyed the material, particularly the more philosophical mentions of how Chinese Marxism blended in both Confucius and the Dao and evolved over time to form its own flavor of socialism. But I still think far too much was skimmed over, even for a basic overview course.

Medieval Spanish Manuscripts MOOC

Course: Deciphering Secrets: Unlocking the Manuscripts of Medieval Burgos (Spain)
Length: 7 weeks
School/platform: Universidad Carlos III de Madrid/edX
Instructors: Roger L. Martínez-Dávila
Quote:

• Garner knowledge and assess the history of medieval Spanish intercultural coexistence in the city of Burgos and the Kingdom of Castile and Leon
• Explore the world of medieval manuscripts and texts held in the archives of the Cathedral of Burgos and the city of Burgos
• Learn the craft of medieval paleography, or reading authentic handwritten manuscripts
• Transcribe medieval manuscripts and contribute to new scholar knowledge

By now, everybody expects the Spanish Inquisition (sorry, I just had to say it).

This was a natural extension of the earlier codicology course, focusing on paleography. But at heart it’s a history course – and at that, a real history course, since it’s one of the few history moocs I’ve taken that paid proper respect to original documents and historical research.

We led off with typical exposition of major events on the Iberian peninsula during the late middle ages, particularly as they elapsed in the town of Burgos. Included were museum tours of beautiful artifacts complete with stories: an 11th century ivory chest originally crafted by Andalusian Muslims, then adapted to serve as a repository for Christian relics after the Reconquista; a case for holding balls associated with some sort of Muslim game, carved from an elephant’s trunk so large, the curve isn’t apparent, likewise appropriated during conquest; silver dishes and gold pendants found buried by the Jews of Briviesca when their homes were burned in the (dashed) hopes they could return to claim their family treasures. I kept remembering Ta-Nehisi Coates’ theory that racism is fundamentally about plunder, and hate is just a means to that end. It was a bit creepy to be taking this course while, in the US, Jewish community centers were receiving bomb threats in escalating numbers, several Jewish cemeteries were vandalized, and at least two people were murdered because they looked Muslim (turns out, they weren’t, but that’s beside the point). Even in Canada, slaughter broke out at a mosque. This is why we must know history, because we are living it, repeating it right now, and we can change that if we are willing.

The second half of the course dealt with transcribing documents, which is where paleography came in. It’s something I’d very much like to learn; alas, I didn’t get very far, in spite of the recommended SILReST technique (Scan, Identify easy letters, Locate common words, Recognize abbreviations, etc). I have a feeling manuscript transcription is one of those things I just have to keep doing until I get the hang of it and can “see” words instead of squiggles. I’d spent several hours working on a French poem during the previous class, but didn’t get very far so I finally found someone who could help. Google Translate is useless, since abbreviations are used frequently, the spellings are often archaic, and just figuring out which letters are written is a major challenge in the first place.

The course material assures us that no Spanish is necessary for the course, but there’s no denying some familiarity is of great help. I can’t praise the other students in the course highly enough for their willingness to help and share ideas on the forums. We worked through several issues together such as: is this word vinoor como? Parrador, partador, pairador? I was quite excited to discover that the word I’d thought was “abdat” turned out to be cidbat (the “c” and “i” overly compressed), which is the medieval version of ciudad, city, emphasized by its proximity to the abbreviated form of Burgos. Yes, this is what I consider fun, you got a problem with that?

A focus of the course seemed to be on training and recruiting volunteer “citizen scholars” to help with the transcription of the documents so they can be used in historical research. History is, after all, based on documents, and the stories of the people of Burgos are to a large extent untold as town records gather dust in the archives.

That might be another reason I had such a hard time with the paleography section: in terms of content, these were some of the most boring manuscripts around. Instead of scientific or philosophical texts or literary material, these were more or less property transfer deeds: who sold what to whom under what conditions. In fact, the semantic content was never addressed at all, merely the transcription. I understand the importance of these documents: this is the gritty work of the historian, examining documentary evidence of the relationships of civic and ecclesiastical power in the town as well as the dealings between Jews and Christians. It was just very hard to get excited about it, in spite of the stirring prelude video about the forgotten lives to be uncovered:

Welcome to the Cathedral of Burgos. The Cathedral is the guardian of almost 1000 years of history. The memory of long ago lives still reside here, their hopes and worries, their friendships and enmities, their commitments and broken promises. Patiently they wait, wait to commune with us. Perhaps they walk alongside of us, here in the cloister, escorting us past guarded areas, whisking us past heavy doors, carefully guiding us past the realm of natural light, step by step, an to the home of memories: to the cathedral’s archive.
Thousands upon thousands of individuals like you, like me, carefully cocooned in leather and vellum, their lives now on paper and parchment. Their lives are the true treasure of the archive. It’s time to meet them.

I’m sorry, gentle friends; you’ll have to wait for someone else, since I’m simply not up to the task of hearing you at this time.

By coincidence, at the same time the Citizen Scholar program was unfolding, I got an email from my local library about a similar project: a set of 18th and 19th century state records are waiting for volunteers to digitize them so the information will be more readily available to historians interested in New England. Lives of the past from all over wait for us, as we will wait for historians of the future.

Future installments of this series include similar courses focusing on Toledo and Grenada.

Perry Mason Goes Global: International Law MOOC

Map of course enrollment

Map of course enrollment

Course: International Law
Length: 8 weeks
School/platform: Université catholique de Louvain/edX
Instructors: Pierre d’Argent
Quote:

International law can be considered as the law of the international community, the law that governs relations between States. But it also relates to what international organizations do and, increasingly, it concerns individuals, corporations, NGO’s and other non-state actors.
…Despite their differences in size, power, culture, religion and ideologies, states rely on international law to cooperate and to coexist; they speak the language of international law and international law serves them as an important common language.
This law course will extensively rely on judgments and advisory opinions of the International Court of Justice (ICJ), which is the principal judicial organ of the United Nations (UN).
…This course will teach you what international law is, the role it plays in the world today, how it can be used. You will also gain knowledge to help you better discern legal arguments within the flow of international news and reports.

I signed up for this course out of curiosity, figured I’d drop it very quickly, but the content turned out to be far more interesting than I’d expected. There’s nothing particularly special about the presentation style – it’s lecture-reading-quiz-final with three live hangouts – and it’s not an easy course; I found it challenging. And, by the way, I spent more than the 5 – 7 hours/wk estimated in the course overview (but then, I usually do. I’m slow), more like 10 hours. But I was interested throughout.

The prerequisite recommendation states:

“No prior knowledge of international law is required. However, students should be familiar with the requirements of graduate-level courses and should preferably have already followed some law courses in order to be familiar with legal concepts and legal language.”

Most of my prior knowledge of legal concepts comes from Law & Order. My repetitive re-watching of The West Wing was probably more helpful. But I think it was all those logic and philosophy courses, sorting out text written in unfamiliar styles about mysterious il-peace-palaceconcepts, that did me the most good. And reading fiction, because putting myself in someone else’s head is good practice for everything.

Even though I’m by nature a reader, the required readings were complicated and took more concentration than usual. And, by the way, whereas in a lot of humanities moocs you can skip the readings because the lectures will explain them, that isn’t the case here; the readings are crucial. While some are backed up in lectures, others aren’t, and the quizzes depend on being able to find particular legal reasonings in them. The most frequently referenced readings are provided in a 120-page PDF packet of a dozen or so documents, most predominantly the UN Charter, the Statute of the International Court of Justice, the Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts (affectionately referred to as ARSIWA), and the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties. Additionally, case studies with excerpts from individual ICJ decisions were interwoven with video lectures, readings which featured a couple of pages of this kind of thing:

95. The Court first notes that resolution 1244 (1999) must be read in conjunction with the general principles set out in annexes 1 and 2 thereto, since in the resolution itself, the Security Council: “1. Decide[d] that a political solution to the Kosovo crisis shall be based on the general principles in annex 1 and as further elaborated in the principles and other required elements in annex 2.” Those general principles sought to defuse the Kosovo crisis first by ensuring an end to the violence and repression in Kosovo and by the establishment of an interim administration. A longer-term solution was also envisaged, in that resolution 1244 (1999) was to initiate

“[a] political process towards the establishment of an interim political framework agreement providing for a substantial selfgovernment for Kosovo, taking full account of the Rambouillet accords and the principles of sovereignty and territorial integrity of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and the other countries of the region, and the demilitarization of the KLA…”

It’s one of those “find the words that matter” situations (and, in this case, find Annex 1 and 2, not to mention knowing what Resolution 1244(1999) was). A good portion of what I’d say I learned in the course was how to read legalese, because some words are more important than others, and it isn’t always obvious which ones they are. For example: “national troops put at the disposal of the UN” is not the same as “the UN Army.” To those sensitive to military or legal procedures, this is probably glaringly obvious, but to those of us with less sophistication, it’s tricky.

This “learning how to read” orientation was emphasized in the final lecture, after an acknowledgement that we’d only scratched the surface:

…its ambition was to teach you the essentials of international law — so that, with this knowledge about the structural concepts and rules of the international legal order, you could by yourself continue to learn more about international law and more about its sub-fields.
The only thing I tried to do through this course was to introduce you to the language and the grammar of international law. International law is a professional language of justification. In order to engage in the argumentative practice of international law, you need to be familiar with its concepts and fundamental rules, and see how they fit together as a normative system.

What I lacked most of all was a detailed understanding of some pretty major world events over the past 60 years, things I’ve heard of but I’m your average lazy provincial and hey, it’s over there somewhere and doesn’t have anything to do with me so I didn’t really have more than a general idea at best what was going on. The breakup of the Western Balkans. The Palestinian Wall. Lockerbie. Legal cases resulting from these events featured prominently, usually with a very narrow focus on one particular legal issue or UN action, but it would’ve helped if I’d had more background. Fortunately, there’s Google, and it’s just a matter of finding a reliable source.

Topics ranged from principles of international law to specific cases demonstrating those principles. Both concepts and detailed workings of treaties, the UN Security Council, the International Court of Justice, and the International Criminal Court were featured in separate weeks. It’s a lot of content. If I were to do it again, I’d pay a lot more attention to the cases, perhaps listing them separately as to what point of law they feature and what convention or charter that derives from. I’d also do a lot more outlining/memorizing of major points: what are the elements of statehood? What are the political means of dispute resolution, and what are the differences? That sort of thing.

Genuinely amusing moments: a reference to “Canadian Insurgents” in a lecture about imminent threat of force; ok, so you have to go back to 1837 to call a Canadian an insurgent, but it made me smile. I was also tickled to discover there is a Convention on International Liability for Damage Caused by Space Objects in force: even though the maker/launcher/owner of the space object is not at fault, it is still liable for damages (and, since the Convention went into force in the 70s, there hasn’t been a single instance of a manmade-space-object injury outside of a TC Boyle short story, as any obsessed The West Wing fan can tell you – but just in case, there’s law for that). And by the way, it’s a lot of fun to hear something in a movie or TV show and holler, “Hey, I know what reservations are! I know what the ICC is!”

In my planning post for this course, I made a crack about the “stuffy” graphic they chose to represent the course: a painting of the signing of the Versailles Treaty after WWI. I was gratified when Prof. D’Argent, in the first week’s introductory materials, acknowledged the male whiteness of the image, as well as the ambiguous result of the treaty, as WWII continued WWI within barely a generation, and we still feel the aftereffects of the reshuffling of borders made in that room. We were invited to create our own image of International Law; I chose a proportional infogram of world languages. I wonder what kind of image the words will generate four years from now, given current trends and circumstances.

The forums were very active, but I was a bit intimidated and used them sparingly; the responses I got to a couple of questions were adequate. The hangouts seemed to be mostly repeats of lecture material. Again, a lot of this impression is due to my insecurity about my level of general preparedness; YMMV. Finer distinctions and opportunities for more fluent discussion may well present to those with more experience in law or international relations.

But as I said up front, the content was incredibly interesting, discovering all the little details that go into one state complaining about another, the rules of treaty negotiation, and how law happens to begin with. I’m not sure who the intended audience is – law students? Lawyers? Policy aides? The general public? – but I was so pleased with the course, I’ve signed up for two of the subsequent modules on International Humanitarian, and Human Rights law. I’d say that constitutes a high recommendation for those interested in the topics covered – but be prepared to work.

Medieval Islamic MOOC

Course: The Legacy of Islamic Civilization
Length of course: 4 weeks
School/platform: Biblioteca Alexandria / edX
Instructors: Shereen El Kabbani, Sarah Nagaty
Quote:

How would you like to know about the Muslim civilization, its valuable contributions, and its role in the revival of the Greek Classics?
This is not a course about Islam or the Islamic civilization, it is a course that is intended to give a brief overview and a basic introduction to the achievements of Muslim civilization in the fields of physics, biology, mathematics and astronomy in a concise manner. Although it starts by giving a brief introduction to the emergence of Islam, its main focus is on the contributions of Muslim scientists and philosophers to world history and culture.
The course is a foundational step for those who wish to further read about, or study, the contributions of Muslims in the diverse areas of knowledge.

When I took Duke’s neuroscience mooc The Brain and Space, I was introduced to Ibn al-Haytham (aka Alhazen) via his reversal of Plato’s extramission theory of vision to intromission. In several math courses, I’ve heard about Al-Khwarizmi and his mathematical system of “restoration” (al-jabr) that became algebra. The palace of Alhambra in Spain makes regular appearances on Jeopardy!, and if you’ve redecorated your kitchen in the past couple of decades, you might have used Spanish tilework without realizing the glazing techniques and artistic styles were developed and perfected during the Islamic rule of Spain. We’ve all heard of Marco Polo, but Ibn Battuta travelled from Morocco to the Middle East to India and China and also wrote about his journeys.

Considering the breadth of these accomplishments, I was very happy to see a course that covered the medieval contributions of the Islamic empire to us all. Unfortunately, there’s only so much a four-week course can cover, and this turned out to be more surface-level than the materials I’d already encountered. That doesn’t mean it’s a bad course; it means it’s a survey course.

I got quite a lot out of the first week, which described the growth of the medieval Islamic empire in a more structured way than I’d previously seen. This was quite helpful, seeing it in “chunks” instead of by this ruler or that country. But I’m afraid the rest of it turned into a list: this guy wrote that book, that guy did astronomy and math, here’s where they set up a translation institute and over there’s the library. The section that worked best for me was the one I knew the least about: architecture.

I think the take-home there is: if you need a survey-level course, this could work quite nicely, but if you’re looking for something more in-depth to add to a basic understanding of the contributions of Islamic scholars of the medieval period, either prepare to use the course as a scaffold for your own explorations, or pursue another avenue.