Thought-provoking post on Critical Mass about the evolution (or de-volution) of the high-school literature curriculum.
I always enjoyed the challenge of reading, and the challenge of meeting up with characters who had next to nothing to do with my life. Hester Prynne, and Madame Defarge and Huck Finn and Atticus Finch, etc. I read all of those books in between the age of 14 and 18. What does my life have in common with Madame Defarge? Nothing. We’re both chicks. Big deal.
It was not assumed that I, a teenager in Rhode Island going to public school, needed to “identify” with the characters in order to be interested. It was just that these were the great books, and so we read them.
Plain and simple.
It is quite quite true, however, that my reading experience was significantly different when I read Billy Budd (which I hated and dreaded) and Catcher in the Rye – which I felt like came from out of the depths of my own psyche. (Join the club, Sheila. But whatever – everyone needs to experience that book for the first time, and discover it for themselves.) So yes: the power of IDENTIFICATION is immense, and very important. I devoured Catcher in the Rye. I devoured Wuthering Heights – it appealed to some wild tragic strain in my adolescent nature. I felt like: I could love a man like Heathcliff … and I identify with Cathy … I do! She’s a wild woman, like Kipling’s cat, walking in the “wild lone” and “waving her wild tail”. Tragic! Love it! That book captivated me.
But that was just a byproduct of me being forced to read those books in the first place.
“Identification” was not the primary reason to read.
I was lucky, though. I grew up with literate parents in a house full of books. I was reading before I could walk, basically. I would rather read than do most anything else. I am very fortunate.
Others – who did not grow up with such support, such reinforcement – perhaps need to “identify” first, and then discover: Wow! Reading is so cool!!! (This story of my friend Mitchell, is, perhaps, a case in point. Not sure … he can speak to that himself.)
I feel extremely fortunate that intellectual rigor was encouraged in my household. I read stuff before I was ready to really digest them. I could feel when I read “Oliver Twist” at the age of 11: “Hmmm. I … am going to have to come back to this one …”
I could tell that it was great, I could tell that it was a classic … but I couldn’t get it. It was too soon. But still – I read every word.
I am not sure what I think about the theory that reading lesser works (yes. Lesser. Do not put Tuesdays with Morrie on the same level as Scarlet Letter. Do. Not. Do. It.) makes you want to read the great stuff, the challenging stuff.
And maybe the point is – no matter what it is, no matter what book it is … if you are a discerning individual, and there is a message to be had, or some joy to be had from the printed word … then it is a worthwhile endeavor. But all of this assumes that you have already learned how to read. (And I don’t mean knowing your ABCs, I mean – having some critical facility – having some way to interpret what you read, having some sense of context – in terms of literature … People who can barely make it through magazine articles do not know how to read, in the way that I mean)
Reading challenging books which had nothing to do with my own life, and before I was ready to digest the messages (Tale of Two Cities comes to mind) – taught me how to read.
Charles Dickens (and my English teacher, I suppose) expected me, a 14 year old, to rise to the level of the material.
And so – with much hemming and hawing – and support from the ‘rents – I did.
Sometimes under great protest, I might add. And I still hate Billy Budd, but I’m not sorry I read it.
I have no idea what I just wrote, by the way. My high school composition teacher would be horrified. Where’s that thesis statement, Sheil-babe?
Ah well. Food for thought. Still thinking about it myself.
Just thought of something else:
I also enjoy a good trashy novel. I don’t think that gorging on Victorian erotica, or an Oprah book turns your mind to mush. I think that’s a stupid attitude.
I read VC Andrews’ trash, and I also read Charles Dickens.
Sometimes you just need a little filth to clear the air!
A couple of years ago I assigned Olivier Zunz _Making America Corporate_ to my college level US history survey.
The kids HATED it – it was too hard for them. This confused me because I thought it was a light fun read with a lot of good stories.
It turns out that Zunz had written a prosopography, a group history of about 350 people whose life histories he had picked out of corporate records. His argument was incremental and slow to develop. It is a good book – I still like it and I will still assign it for upper-level classes.
The kids, however, had been taught to read differently, to keep track of every name mentioned in case it came up later, to look for obvious signposts and foreshadowing telling them where the story was going, and to parse only the simplest prose and easiest words.
My point? It is not just the perennial complaint that kids these days just are not prepared the way they once were – any time you expand education you will encounter that problem. It is that as a teacher you have to balance the “good for you” castor-oil aspect of an assignment with the sure knowledge that if it is too hard they won’t get a darn thing out of it.
That said, it takes a level of confidence in a teacher to respond to “why should I read this? this has nothing to do with me” with “yes, exactly.”
Ted K.
“Yes, exactly”. I like that!
Again: I was very fortunate in my English teachers … and my parents.
I equate it with listening to music. Most people aren’t born prepared to listen to, and grasp the subtleties and complexities of, Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk, John Coltrane or Gustav Mahler, Elliot Carter, and Alexander Scriabin. There is a fundamental “vocabulary” necessary for understanding and enjoying the experience. As in reading, if an individual is never given the opportunity to sample challenging fare(especially in a learning/teaching environment), there is little hope he or she will develop the basics required to fully enjoy the skill and art exhibited–the “magic.” There is nothing wrong with learning through baby steps, but exposure to challenging material is important. I have an album by Mccoy Tyner called “Atlantis” that seemed inpenetrable to me when I first heard it many years ago. Today, I listen to it, and I am incapable of seeing what I found so difficult about it. It just seems like great straight-ahead jazz to me. Reading is a lot like that. I dislike this trend towards, “Let’s don’t stress the kids pointy little heads. Don’t challenge them, or they will withdraw.” Admittedly, some will withdraw, but some will blossom–and that’s what teaching and learning are all about.
I think i’ve always looked and found familiarity in every character ive ever read..maybe its empathy…sometimes i seek books that reflect my specific experience but usually a good yarn will keep me paying attention. Last summer at Smirkus..a young exquisite girl told me she didnt like to read..she said it took too long to read “hard” books..she’s 15yo..i told her that it didnt matter how long it took to read a great book…as long as she read it and understood it. This past winter she Im’ed me to tell me that she had read Native Son by Richard Wright(!!) and that it had taken her the whole of fall to do it.. She loved it, she got it, she understood what i meant, she also said it helped her understand that sometimes important things don’t get learned in a 2 hour gymnsatics practice with her coach…i think thats what is lacking in education today..kids think if they don’t “get it”‘ immediately that it’s a waste of time. We are a culture that teaches our kids to aspire to the absolute middle-of -the road (It better play in Peoria! or Middle America won’t relate)…just watch American Idol(except for Fantasia..she rocks)…we used to aspire to the best..but now we don’t want our culture to outsmart us, or make us feel challenged, or seem out of our grasp..its a shame….Aspire to the Ultimate…thats what i tell the kids here.
The image of the teenager IMing you to tell you she had read Native Son brings tears to my eyes.
Dear Red – I,too, was fortunate to have literate parents. I was reading the Reader’s Digest in the 2nd grade and one of my earliest memories is one of my parents coming into my room at 2:00 in the morning and telling me to put out the flashlight and go to sleep, (as I was reading something, anything under the covers), and ever since then I have been hooked on the written word. I tried to instill that love in my dauhter and, wonder of wonders, she has a degree in English Literature. My cup runneth over. Recently, my mother, (God rest her), was honored in Wichita, KS by having a library named for her at a School for troubled boy’s. Seems appropriate since she raised five of us so she had first-hand experience.Keep pushing for literacy, Red. I’m with you all the way. Love, Terry
Terry:
Wow. Great family story. Warms my heart!