Author Archives: Emma Bridges

The OU at the Classical Association annual conference

Saturdays well spent: teaching and learning at the OU

by Emma Bridges

As well as working with the Classical Studies team based in Milton Keynes, I’m also one of the Open University’s Associate Lecturers. For the uninitiated, this is the name given by the OU to a veritable army of tutors who are subject experts and who deliver face-to-face teaching to students across the regions and nations served by the university. OU students tend to have a whole range of other commitments outside their studies which means that tutorials at ‘regular’ hours during weekdays aren’t ideal for most; evenings and weekends are usually more convenient for the majority. Hence, as I live in Yorkshire, I often spend my Saturdays giving tutorials in Leeds, at one of our many study centres.

It may come as a surprise to those unfamiliar with the OU teaching/learning model that students at a ‘distance learning’ institution actually have regular opportunities to engage in person with a tutor, and with other students. The job of an Associate Lecturer involves monitoring student progress, marking assignments and offering guidance on how best to approach the module materials (some of this is also done online and over the ‘phone), as well as an element of pastoral care; but for me one of the most enjoyable aspects is getting to meet some of my students in person and to talk to them about the things in which we all share an interest. Last Saturday’s teaching involved working with two separate groups of students; the morning featured a discussion of Ovid’s Metamorphoses and its reception as part of our module Myth in the Greek and Roman Worlds and in the afternoon there was a good helping of Greek grammar along with analysis of some different translations of Aristophanes’ Clouds with students of Reading Classical Greek: Language and Literature.

For me, one of the best things about teaching adult learners is the sheer diversity of experience and knowledge which students bring with them to their OU work. Many of my students have their own challenges to face – competing responsibilities at home or at work, health problems, or difficult personal circumstances. Over the years I’ve taught a whole range of people from all walks of life: those for whom caring responsibilities or health issues make part-time study the ideal way for them to pursue their own education; students who have chosen to combine their degree with work immediately post-‘A‘ levels or have done a degree elsewhere in a subject unrelated to Classical Studies (I’ve taught a fair few mathematicians and scientists whose introduction to ancient Greek has been through mathematical symbols!); some who are returning to study after a gap of sometimes decades since they were last in formal education; and still others who are studying from prison.

This rich mix of life experiences means that every student brings something different and of value to the table, and makes every tutorial a learning process for me as well as for them. At one time, for example, I had a student who was a relationship counsellor offering fresh insights into the emotional state of Euripides’ Medea; last weekend, one of my group who is also studying art history with the OU had some fascinating thoughts to share on the ways in which themes from Ovid’s poetry are depicted in the paintings we’ve been looking at; meanwhile a member of my Greek class has also studied several modern languages so is able to offer her peers some valuable advice on different elements of language learning.

I’m frequently blown away by the enthusiasm and dedication of this diverse bunch of people whom I have the privilege to teach. I’m sure that I learn at least as much as my students do from the discussions which we share; that’s just one of the many reasons why I feel lucky to be able to do this job.

Journeys across time and space: researching classical reception

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by Emma Bridges

A common thread running through the research and teaching of many of us who work in the department of Classical Studies at the OU is the study of classical reception – that is to say that we think about the ways in which, and the reasons why, ancient Greek and Roman ideas, texts and material culture have been revisited and refigured by later cultures and societies.

One of the most challenging aspects of thinking about classical reception is also, for me, one of the most exciting. In order to develop an understanding of the ways in which themes and ideas have been adopted and adapted in new contexts, a researcher must frequently step outside her own comfort zone, looking beyond the texts with which she is most familiar and exploring a range of genres, historical periods and geographical settings. Following the journey of a theme across time and space can yield fascinating and sometimes unexpected results, and the researcher who does so often needs to become familiar with areas of study of which she had little prior knowledge.

My recent book, Imagining Xerxes, took me on one such journey; in tracing the ancient cultural responses to the figure of the Persian king whose invasion of Greece was famously defeated against seemingly overwhelming odds, I found myself examining ancient sources which spanned a period of around 700 years, with a geographical spread incorporating Greece, the Roman empire and ancient Persia itself, and in a vast – and sometimes daunting – array of diverse literary genres.

Xerxes crosses the Hellespont.
Original illustration from Imagining Xerxes (2014). Image copyright Asa Taulbut. Reproduced by permission of the artist.

As a scholar, I have always felt most at home with the Greek texts which were written in the fifth century BC – thus, when I started out, I knew a fair bit about Aeschylus’ Persians, in which a defeated Xerxes appeared on the Athenian tragic stage, and about Herodotus’ historiographical account of the course of the Persian Wars. In the course of my research, however, I also needed to tackle sources ranging from the inscriptions and relief sculptures of the royal palace complex at Persepolis, to biblical texts (Xerxes appears – named as Ahasuerus – as a key figure in the Book of Esther), to Roman and rhetoric and satirical poetry. Along the way I would discover that the historical figure of Xerxes was reimagined and reshaped in astonishingly diverse cultural settings, and that portrayals of his character – shaped by the historical circumstances in which they were produced as well as by the literary agendas of the authors who wrote of him – ranged from images of him as the archetypal and destructive enslaving aggressor, to a figure synonymous with the luxury and exoticism of the Persian court, or as an example of the vacillations of human fortune.

The joy of this kind of work is that there is always more to discover; every text or artefact encountered, every ‘reception’ of an ancient work or idea, has a context – literary, artistic, intellectual, historical – which needs to be investigated and explained if we are to understand why themes from the ancient world recur where and when they do. That’s good news for people like me, who love the challenge of getting to grips with something new!