Extreme Focus, Cramming, and Knowledge Fatigue: A Visit to Paris

Dr. Steve Clifford is a professor of English and co-coordinator of the iFALCON Title V grant.

In grad school, I studied modernism, writing in my dissertation (and later book) on the work of Ernest Hemingway and D.H. Lawrence. But it was a freshman lit. course in college–a course which confirmed my interest in an English major and in which I met the professor who would become my mentor–that I discovered the fiction and art of the modernists in Paris after World War I. See the Woody Allen film Midnight in Paris for the whole cast of characters: Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Stein, Man Ray, Picasso, Dali…

But it took me all this time to finally set aside the time, along with a few years of saving money, to finally visit Paris.

The City of Lights was all I hoped it would be, particularly because my wife and I stayed in Montparnasse, the neighborhood where the artists and writers of the modernist period lived and worked. When I wasn’t wandering from the cafe Hemingway wrote in, to the bar Henry Miller lived above, I roamed the Left Bank: more artists and, in particular, students studying at one of the most prestigious universities in the world: The Sorbonne. Enjoying a cafe creme or a cote du rhone at La Place de la Sorbonne (my iPhone pic, right) among the students of the world made me want to pack up and move to Paris.

But even as I enjoyed leisurely walks around Paris, I found that I had to focus harder than I was used to for a very basic reason: I don’t speak French. At least not well. I took high school French way back in the ’70s, and brushed up on reading French for grad school in the late ’80s/early ’90s, but recalling enough vocabulary and sentence syntax to communicate took major effort. Simple communication I take for granted in California required all my attention. I had to focus intensely to hear others’ spoken French, to recognize accents and regional pronunciations, and to comprehend their vocabulary. Then, after piecing that language together on the receiving end, I had to figure out which vocabulary to choose to respond with, and then how to pronounce it in a way that resembled French, another arduous process for a relative newbie to the language. Add to that my anxiety about how slowly I heard and responded, and the desire not to seem like a complete idiot (or worse, a clueless American tourist), and I found that the simple act of communication was highly stressful.

By the end of two weeks attempting French, I found that my vocabulary had increased significantly, partly from recalling my earlier studies, and partly by hearing new words and phrases used in contexts I’d remember. On the one hand, I felt I was getting better at French.

But by the end of that period, I also found I was suffering from major language fatigue. While I knew how to string together a simple, if not graceful, sentence in a cafe–”Pour ma femme, un verre du vin blanc, et pour moi, un verre du vin rouge, s’il vous plait“–I discovered that I couldn’t say what I knew. I’d stumble over words I should have been confident in, or I’d invert them ridiculously (“un vin de verre blanc,” a wine of the white glass), even though I knew the more correct way to say it.

And then the second-language interference kicked in: living in southern California, you begin to learn basic Spanish words and phrases, and these began to interfere with my basic French, as when I’d launch into “Bonjour, Senor,” or “Combien ca coute, por favor?” (“How much is that, please,” in a crazy mix of both French and Spanish.) My head knew the right answer, but I couldn’t always get my mouth to say it. My focus had become exhausted.

The experience caused me to think about focus and comprehension for students. My approach to French was essentially like cramming for an exam: I waited until I had to perform and studied intensively in a very short period of time. While I had some success, I could have been far more successful had I spent a greater amount of time before the trip taking a French class or two, recalling my old knowledge and building new skills and comprehension before I had to use those skills. My language fatigue, and the silly errors I made despite knowing the right answer, were very like the kinds of errors a student might make on an exam that he’s crammed all night for.

Ever crammed for an exam and found yourself banging your head, thinking, “I know this!” but unable to come up with the answer? Cramming feels like focus, but for short-term memory rather than for true comprehension. It might be called a misuse of focus; I was focused on comprehending for a very short period of time, instead of being focused on not only immediate comprehension but on retention and mastery for a longer period of time. If I want to achieve that, I really have to continue working on my language skills by hearing and speaking French, probably in a class that would help build my skills.

Happily, the French were very kind and patient, helping me with my French or assisting in English. In an exam situation, though, a student isn’t going to find the instructor quite so kind if the exam responses are wrong. What’s worse, having the “I should know this!” experience in the middle of a chemistry or history or automotive exam can be discouraging, causing the student to want to give up. Why set yourself up like that? Give yourself the time and space required to build focus over the course of weeks, not hours, and you’ll discover that with dedication and careful organization, mastery of a new and difficult skill is achievable.

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