We live in an academic time/space occupied by an increasingly variegated tapestry of “Studies”: American Studies, Women's Studies, Gender Studies, Classical Studies, Medieval Studies. Many academicians, I observe, feel less than ever inclined to call ourselves members of English or History or Art Departments – too confining, too firmly circumscribing, too incriminating, too frighteningly definitive, too, well, old-fashioned. If we do “Medieval Studies,” rather than “English,” we feel freer to incorporate bits of history, literature, linguistics, religion, and aesthetics into our courses with a degree of nonchalance that may seem like dilettantism except that we already have so much to learn and teach and say in such a short time that adding a new and often exciting twist does little harm (and can accomplish much good).

Of course we still love Beowulf, Dante, Hildegard, Marie, Julian, sagas, the Libro de Buen Amor, and the Chanson de Roland. We teach them and write about them regularly (if we're lucky) and joyfully. Then “my own work” rears its eager head, so now let's move on to the professional development step of conferences and publishing: given typically increasing administrative duties, sometimes we have an easier task dashing off a quick paper on a new favorite art film recommended by a friend, or the new Harry Potter that one's children are reading, or, God forgive us, The Da Vinci Code (some readers, to my continuing astonishment, apparently do find that book interesting).