Rhona Brown

@rhonabrown.bsky.social

Professor of Scottish Textual Cultures, University of Glasgow 18th-century Scottish poetry, early Scottish periodicals, textual editing. Working on a new edition of the poetry of Robert Fergusson (1750-74). 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿📚📖🗞️📰 @rfergussonpoet.bsky.social

We're excited to be at WestFest! Come and visit the Protests & Suffragettes stall at WestFest at Cottiers tomorrow 10am–3pm.We'll be celebrating Glasgow's rich history of protest, activism & the fight for equality, sharing of the women and movements that helped shape Scotland and beyond.

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“The Muirs gave Kafka a distinctive voice in English for half a century: fluent, formal, enigmatic and mesmeric” – but a new, award-winning study of Kafka’s translators has almost completely erased their work from literary history, says Boyd Tonkin engelsbergideas.com/reviews/the-...

The forgotten Scots who gave Kafka his voice

For half a century, Edwin and Willa Muir's translations were how the Anglophone world read Kafka. A prize-winning study of his translators barely registers their contribution.

engelsbergideas.com

Should researchers still be posting their data openly online? It’s a question being debated by some researchers now that bots are routinely mining open-access databases and scientific publications to train artificial-intelligence tools'.

Bots are scraping open data — how should researchers respond?

The snowballing ability of artificial intelligence to trawl open data sets has some scientists worried about losing control of their information.

nature.com

'A thoroughly disquieting depiction of voyeurism, mania and deadly self-estrangement, on which Spark worked intensely over a few short weeks and finished from a hospital bed. “I frightened myself writing it”, she later recalled.' James Bailey on The Driver’s Seat by #MurielSpark buff.ly/JtnRonc

Muriel Spark - The Driver's Seat book cover. Arms holding a handbag, and a striped skirt with knees visible.

First day of #Pride month. Be kind to yourself, stay hydrated, and take care of each other. Promote smaller LGBTQIA2S+ artists, projects, and products. Ignoring the latest "discourse" is self-care. It can feel like a lot just existing, but please keep at it. The world is better with you in it. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️💖

'The key findings were said to be “surprisingly simple”: “a good student academic experience ultimately comes down to quality teaching, access to in person interaction with teachers and a strong sense of belonging”.' 2/3

What Matters Most? 20 years of the student experience - HEPI

Half of students miss one-third of their lectures. 20 years of data show undergraduates are struggling to access the high-quality teaching, in-person interactions and satisfying student experience the...

hepi.ac.uk

'The researchers said...“hyper-competitive research culture in universities is likely to increase costs, partly driven by low success rates”, and “without fundamental reform, academics will continue to apply for research grants in pursuit of reward and recognition”.' (Well, also to do research) 1/2

Research Professional News@resprofnews.bsky.social · 4mo ago

Funding processes cost 13 per cent of grant value, study finds. Applicants absorb bulk of costs, leading to suggestion policy reforms should target universities, not funders. www.researchprofessionalnews.com/rr-news-uk-r...

Frae fields whare Spring her sweets has blawn Wi’ caller verdure our the lawn, The Gowdspink comes in new attire, The brawest ’mang the whistling choir… —Robert Fergusson (1750–1774), “Ode to the Gowdspink” from The Poetical Works of Robert Fergusson (Glasgow, 1800) #poem #poetry #C18th

Ode to the Gowdspink
Robert Fergusson

Frae fields whare Spring her sweets has blawn
Wi’ caller verdure our the lawn,
The Gowdspink comes in new attire,
The brawest ’mang the whistling choir,
That, ere the sun can clear his ein,
Wi glib notes sain the simmer’s green.

Sure Nature herried mony a tree,
For spraings and bonny spats to thee:
Nae mair the rainbow can impart
Sic glowing ferlies o’ her art,
Whase pencil wrought its freaks at will
On thee the sey-piece o’ her skill.
Nae mair thro’ straths in simmer dight
We seek the rose to bless our sight;
Or bid the bonny wa’-flowers sprout
On yonder Ruin’s lofty snout.
Thy shining garments far outstrip
The cherries upo’ Hebe’s lip,And fool the tints that Nature chose
To busk and paint the crimson rose.

’Mang man, wae’s heart! we aften find
The brawest drest want peace o’ mind,
While he that gangs wi’ ragged coat
Is weel contentit wi’ his lot.
Whan wand wi’ glewy birdlime’s set,
To steal far aff your dautit mate,
Blyth wad ye change your cleething gay
In lieu of lavrock’s sober grey.
In vain thro’ woods you sair may ban
The envious treachery of man,
That, wi’ your gowden glister ta’en,
Still hunts you on the simmer’s plain,
And traps you ’mang the sudden fa’s
O’ winter’s dreary dreepin snaws.
Now steekit frae the gowany field,
Frae ilka fav’rite houff and bield,
But mergh, alas! to disengage
Your bonny buik frae fettering cage,
Your free-born bosom beats in vain
For darling liberty again.
In window hung, how aft we see
Thee keek around at warblers free,
That carol saft, and sweetly sing
Wi’ a’ the blythness o’ the spring?
Like Tantalus they hing you here,
To spy the glories o’ the year;
And tho’ you’re at the burnie’s brink,
They douna suffer you to drink.

Ah, Liberty! thou bonny dame,
How wildly wanton is the stream,
Round whilk the birdies a’ rejoice,
An’ hail you wi’ a gratefu’ voice.The Gowdspink chatters joyous here,
And courts wi’ gleesome sangs his peer:
The mavis frae the new-bloom’d thorn
Begins his lauds at earest morn;
And herd lowns loupin oe’r the grass,
Needs far less fleetching till his lass,
Than paughty damsels bred at courts
Wha thraw their mou’s, and take the dorts;
But, reft of thee, fient flee we care
For a’ that life ahint can spare.
The Gowdspink, that sae lang has kend
Thy happy sweets (his wonted friend),
Her sad confinement ill can brook
In some dark chaumer’s dowy nook;
Tho’ Mary’s hand his nebb supplies,
Unkend to hunger’s painfu’ cries,
Ev’n beauty canna chear the heart
Frae life, frae liberty apart;
For now we tyne its wonted lay,
Sae lightsome sweet, sae blythly gay.

Thus Fortune aft a curse can gie,
To wyle us far frae liberty;
Then tent her syren smiles wha list,
I’ll ne’er envy your girnel’s grist;
For whan fair Freedom smiles nae mair,
Care I for life? Shame fa’ the hair;
A field o’ergrown wi’ rankest stubble,
The essence o’ a paltry bubble.
NeverFadingWood 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🇵🇱🇪🇺@avantgardening.pl · 4mo ago

Well, I'm very pleased to have learnt about this painting. Outstanding. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Gol...