The Required Reading Rebellion : or let’s get mad about books we were forced to read at school!
April 10, 2008 by Eve
When I was a teenager, I had this “thing”. Actually, I had loads of “things” but we’re not going to go into them all here. This particular “thing” was about people describing food while we were eating. I couldn’t stand it, one mention of ‘ ooh isn’t this tender broccoli soooo fresh’ and that was it, I was off, storming away from the table like some monstrous… teenager. And I was wondering this morning whilst thinking about our hatchet week, whether this was the reason why all the books I could think of hating were school-set books. To be forced to discuss the prose when all I wanted to do was get on and read it.
Of course teenagers are, on the whole, just a cluster of emotions encased in erupting skin. And in that case, you might expect they would enjoy delving into a good novel and trying to figure out what the author “was trying to say”. What feelings they were trying to get across, what emotion was hidden within the prose. Well for me, that was a complete load of ….
Maybe I was just more moody, uncooperative and unstable than my peers, maybe I was railing against the system, maybe if they hadn’t chosen such bloody boring old-fashioned tiresome dull mind-numbing tomes that we had to read at a snails pace over the course of a whole stinking year, I might not have been in the bottom set for English.
Don’t get me wrong, I read books, hundreds upon hundreds of books, just not the ones they wanted me to read. And I did think about them, and I did ask myself what the author wanted to say, but when you can read a book in a couple of days it becomes pretty clear what the author wanted me to know and I noted it and THEN MOVED ON!
But to have to analyse every line on a page and discuss exactly what Jane Austen was thinking when she chose those words or what frame of mind DH Lawrence was in when he used that image or what flippin’ colour trousers Shakespeare had on when he scribbled down the first lines of Romeo and Juliet were of no interest to me at the age of fourteen. I only cared about how I felt and what colour trousers I was wearing. I rarely cared beyond my own circumference and if I did, it was about George Michael, Ban the Bomb (or whatever the passionate cause was that day), who was cuter - Mark or David and whether Carla was being a bitch. I didn’t give a stuff what Jane Austen thought, she was long gone and measured “duh” on my radar.
But this has had a serious effect on my reading as an adult. I cannot go near a Classic without breaking out into a cold sweat and hearing my English teachers voice in the back of my mind (she always got my name wrong - that’s how insignificant my contribution was!) pressurising me to come up with something, anything, to explain the difference between fate and chance in Tess of the d’Urbervilles… I mean… do I care? Do I? Bovvered?
And as for poetry, give me a break! I did drama out with school, I read poetry for acting exams, poetry that I had to learn by heart, act out with emotion and feeling, and nuance BUT that was my poetry, I had chosen it. The stuff they made us read in school… well, the memories are very painful.
Maybe, it was the whole ‘being made to do something’ that was the problem, teens are hardly co-operative at the best of times. But I still find reading a very personal occupation and not having the freedom to choose both, what I read and then, what I thought about what I’d read drove me demented. My innate love of reading was never killed but I seem to have developed an allergy to any title foisted upon me in school.
It is my belief, and I may be alone here, but I do think kids should be allowed to choose what they read. So what if it’s a bonkbuster, so what if it’s horror or sci-fi, chick-lit or a comic. Have you seen these comics from Classical Comics? Now, if they had them in school when I were a lass, I would have run all the way to English! And as long as they’re reading, what does it matter?
Reading is subjective, we all know that. My dream book might make your eyes itch, what you rave about may be thrown against my wall, so how can we force kids to read set books. Surely we’re in danger of putting them off reading for life?
I’m afraid, for me there is little hope, my literary future is sealed and I am destined to travel through life un-Classiced (I don’t even watch the movies!). Does this mean I’ve missed out? Am I poorer cerebrally because of the horrors foisted upon me as a tender youth? Bovvered?
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Have your say, what’s your most hated school book? Is there one that still gives you nightmares? Or did you actually manage to escape scar free? Bring it on!
With thanks to gotplaid? on Flickr for the incredibly appropriate photo
Ah yes, the ghastly Set Texts.
I hear you. I managed to despise all of the Shakespeare and all of the poetry I studied at secondary school. I always thought it was due to the very bored teachers passing on their boredom to we students, because amazingly once I got to uni and found myself in the classes of passionate, energetic, enthusiastic teachers, well, suddenly I couldn’t get enough of Shakespeare and poetry.
But maybe it was also the Set Text Effect. I loved classic novels, but I had already read them at home. Perhaps if I’d met them for the first time in the classroom, I’d never have developed that love for them.
There’s something amazing about picking up a novel and claiming that private world for yourself. Thinking that the author, the characters, are communicating with you.
I can see how a teacher pressurising a pupil to “come up with something, anything, to explain the difference between fate and chance in Tess of the d’Urbervilles” would put a dampener on enjoyment of the book.
For me though I think it did come down to uninspired teaching of certain subjects. My poor teachers (with one exception) seemed depressed at the thought of even facing my class, let alone teaching us something. I left school thinking that Shakespeare was ‘boring’ and poetry was ‘pointless’. Imagine my surprise when I got to uni and found that many of my fellow students loved these.
I do think it has a lot to do with the teacher. Although I was an avid reader like you, Eve, I never had a very good English teacher. I didn’t like the long, drawn-out analysis of old books out of touch with my life but I did have a suspicion that there might be something of interest there if only it was done the right way.
I was going to say, Lisa, that Shakespeare is the one that I am so glad to have studied, although I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, it did give me some keys for understanding later. Because I did have one exceptional teacher who inspired me with a love of his subject and that was my maths teacher. Until he came along, I was OK at maths but he made me excited about it. I went on to do Finance and Business Management (Ha!) and so never got the opportunity to study English again. I’m sure if I’d had a teacher who inspired that excitement, I’d have done English instead.
But I think it’s a good idea, Eve, to give young people some say into the choices of books they study, Have some set texts but some individual choice ones too.
I think you’re probably right about the teacher having an effect.
As I said, I went to drama lessons outside school (in the olden days it was called ‘elocution’
and I learned plays, prose and poetry and how to recite them properly. And I did loads of exams in Speech and Drama.
Okay it sounds quite similar to the classroom situation - reading the book, choosing the text or piece or poem and then going over and over it to get the meaning and the sense before learning it and saying it aloud to a board of examiners.
And I loved it - I must have to stick it out for years on a voluntary basis.
But my teacher was a wonderful old lady, who grew to be a very close friend and she instilled in me a love of language through her enthusiasm, encouragement and dry wit.
But I also was allowed to choose the passages I wanted to do, things that appealed to me, pieces that had personal resonance. And I do think, although only partly, this was the secret. The pieces I did already appealed and then after exploring the deeper meanings they became pieces I loved, and still do.
I don’t think you can do one-size-fits-all lessons in English class. Because these are not facts they’re feelings, and we all have our own.
Eve, I totally, completely agree with you, and I hated studying “English Literature” with a vengeance. My only worry with being able to choose what you want to read at school is… what if that then gets murdered by over-analysis too? At least I escaped into my out-of-school reading (which included all types of books, even some classics, as long as I didn’t have to analyse them within an inch of their lives and kill any enjoyment whatsoever).
Great rant and I agree to a point, but also don’t totally know what I think of this.
On the one hand I hated being made to read lots of awful classics at school. On the other hand, when I DID like something it was a revelation - and I can’t help thinking I wouldn’t necessarily have introduced myself to them otherwise.
I think it is good that kids get access to books and ideas beyond what they might read themselves. I just think the teaching needs to be good.
On the issue of set texts - I was talking to someone recently who was telling me about Scottish Highers and saying the teachers can choose the texts but the questions - therefore - have been designed to fit ANY book. The examples of questions she told me seemed pointless and completely uninspiring and so general as to be useless. So that didn’t seem great either.
Also books kids choose themselves could be really inappropriate which brings in a whole different area of problems in terms of how do you mark them and how do you make sure that what is looked at has something to get your teeth into? Or how do you make sure the teacher has the skills to look at anything in an interesting way?
Some kids don’t have that much access to books at home so for voracious readers like you perhaps it is less important than to someone who didn’t have stuff at home.
I don’t know. I just think a lot comes down to creative teaching, choosing things teens could relate to that have enough meat on the bones and also that any learning shouldn’t ALL be about exams and marks at the end of the day. But I tend to think this about everything.
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Mind you, all that being said, I loved the part of my highers where I could write about my own choices of books. I get the impression the style of question has changed a lot since my day though. Am I wrong?
Ooo and for me Hates at School were:
Julius Caesar - which was a matter of “eh?” and “zzz” in equal measure.
DH Lawrence The Rainbow - argh and ugh.
Love DH Lawrence’s The Rainbow
(Never even attempted JC.)
I entirely agree with this rant. I read vociferously at school and enjoyed… all the many books that were *not* required reading. It was only at university that I really started seeing the value of literary analysis and set texts, but the set texts were far cooler (The Queen of Spades or Woyzeck will always win over Mansfield Park or The Mayor of Casterbridge for me) and you were expected, joy of joys, to be original! Plus, if you didn’t write your essay, that was your problem. That was also the time I started doing my homework, after many years of detentions at school.
I did like some of the Shakespeare plays we read at school though - but only the tragedies.
Another hilarious installment from Eve. I still don’t like people talking about food as I’m eating it. Does that mean I’ve not matured? Don’t answer that!
The worst book for me was “The Scarlet Letter” which I thought I’d never finish. Like the rest of you I was and am, a voracious reader, but that one just plodded on forever. There’s a good kernel of a story in it, but Hawthorn didn’t seem to grasp the concept of sticking to a point, he went off on all these tangents, which added pages of blather. It was awful.
Also a fan of Mr Lawrence, and Women in Love in particular. Think I also liked Jude The Obscure (I finished it, ergo I must’ve liked it) but I don’t remember much of it. There was a pig?
Brilliantly written piece, Eve! I have to say the only book I hated studying at school were the ones we had to do for French - L’amant and something else whose name I forget, but with which I got very irritated because the main character was a sulky teenager who was obviously ‘chosen to appeal to teens’. All I remember was the teacher going on about how the fact that the teenage girl character was shown taking alternate mouthfuls of orange and black coffee demonstrated she was a thrill-seeker and into extremes. I just thought it made her sound like a self-obsessed pretentious cow who couldn’t even stop posing long enough to eat properly :). L’amant annoyed me for the same reason. I felt patronised that the teacher had chosen books with Difficult Teenage Girls as main characters to teach to her class of (occasionally difficult :)) teenage girls… also never had any sympathy with Juliet… hate the idea that books are meant to be Relevant because they Mirror your Life… like being forcibly introduced to someone at a party - “Oh, you’re both teenagers, you’ll have so much in common…”
Oh good lord, Ariadne, you reminded me of Le Ble en herbe which I hated hated hated. I also hated l’Etranger, but I changed my mind about Camus after that because I read La peste, which is still one of my very favourite books. That was my teacher’s recommendation!
Oh I suppose I should say my absolute worst was Pride and Prejudice, I sat my O’Grade English without having read a word of the book. I think I got by using one of those study guide books and a friends borrowed notes… I got an A !!!!
Oh Lordy, Lordy … I’ve never been able to look Moliere, Albert Camus or Emile Zola in the face since I was forced to read them for French Literature ‘A’ level. More tragically, I was put off Marcel Pagnol for years for the same reason. When I finally picked up “La Gloire de mon Pere” again a few years ago I was stunned to find out that it’s actually an utterly enchanting book.
Schools have an awful lot to answer for.
Kes.
Brilliant piece, Eve (even though I was a total square and loved everything except The Grapes of Wrath. But please can I be in your gang?
)
I’m starting to think literary analysis should be reserved for university, where the students are (supposedly) grown-up and actually volunteered to be there. My first literature theory seminars were an eye opener for me. I didn’t know it could be so…. useful!
Oh, Emily, I’ve just seen this. How can you not like ‘The Grapes of Wrath’? It’s a fab book. Also Mhairi, Emile Zola? Wonderful. But then I think I’m a social revolutionary at heart.
Kirsty, the problem with doing it only at university is that then you only reach people who choose to study English and that would have meant that people like me would have had no exposure to any critical analysis of literature.
In my Intro to Lit class I’ve chosen to focus on horror fiction. We start out with The Shining, The Forbidden, and other non-traditional texts as well as traditional ones. We read poems by Dickinson, Frost, Auden and end the semester the bloody tragedy Macbeth. My goal is to mix “pop” fiction with traditional literature and the students love it. We end up finding connections and themes that run throughout all the texts and best of all my students are reading and discussing what they’ve read. I’ve had people turn up their noses at my syllabus but my students are engaged and when they leave my class they not only know metaphor, irony, and iambic pentameter but have also discussed important issues such as what makes us human, cultural relativity, and what are our obligations, if any, to society.
If the goal of an english class is to get students to read and to think about what they are reading and how it relates to them and the world at large, what does it matter what they read?
That sounds amazing Dingo, I can hear your enthusiasm through your words. I don’t remember ever being asked whether I liked the text we were reading, that was never an issue - it was set and we did as we were told. (Of course this was aeons ago in the days where you had to sit in rows and keep our eyes to the front :)) I so agree - it shouldn’t matter what they read, as long as their interest is stimulated.
I think your passion for your subject will influence how your pupils feel - I can’t help but think they leave your lessons inspired. And I’m also thinking you may well be nurturing a new generation of book foxes! How wonderful!
Mary, I see what you mean. I suppose what I am increasingly tending to think is that English at school should be encouraging reading and writing - academic and creative writing - perhaps giving students more of a choice in what they read and putting more emphasis on original responses to pieces of fiction. Bring in the big literary analysis guns once the students have a better chance of being hooked.
What really strikes me is that literary analysis at my university was conducted differently than at my school. At school we really did go into every single word and bash every possible meaning out of it, to the extent of outright imposing a meaning. At university you were presented with the tools you needed, then asked to consider particular questions yourself. The old “this character is wearing a red dress therefore she is definitely an adulteress” kind of statement was no longer acceptable; you were supposed to ask questions, suggest interpretations, but not clodhop through the text “explaining” it. Maybe there’s a way to introduce a little of that into school classrooms like mine. At the moment it’s completely reliant on the individual teacher and students are lucky if they find one - hello Dingo! - who will think outside the box…
Thanks, Eve and KirstyJane. I appreciate the encouragement.
As for books I was force to read, I detested Great Expectations but loved the Scarlett Letter (sorry, Jackie). Believe it or not, the teacher who assigned it got in trouble because it was considered inappropriate (I went to a closed-minded religious school). As you can imagine, the class discussion was limited. It wasn’t until I read it on my own several years later that I truly appreciated the Scarlett Letter.
Could you explain what you liked about The Scarlett Letter, Dingo? Or rather, what you came to appreciate? I’m thinking of trying it again as an adult at some point to see if I can tolerate it any better and a few pointers would help.
Btw, may I say you must be a terrific teacher with your enthusiasm and open minded attitude. I bet your students really enjoy your classes.
Hi Jackie,
I tried to find my book with all my marginalia but I think I loaned it out and never got it back. Anyway, from what I remember I liked it because of its themes about identity, beauty (and what are we willing to sacrifice in order to have beauty in our lives), and the conflicts between religion, morality, and self-determination. I felt that Hester was an interesting character. While I was “taught” in school that she was shameful and to be pitied. On reading the novel for myself years later, I admired her although I didn’t always agree with her or her decisions (What in the world did she see in Dimmsdale?!). She was strong and brave. She took a badge of shame and rather than accept the label she was given, she altered it to suit her. She loved and hated, had regrets and hopes, doubts and self-assurance.
I also appreciated the symbolism and imagery Hawthorne used. And, although the language is not what we are accustomed to reading today, certain phrases remain with me (paraphrasing): Trusting no one as a friend, he could not recognize his enemy when he appeared.
I wish I had the book in front of my so that I could give you a more detailed reason for why I liked it so much. It’s been several years since I’ve read it but talking about it has made me want to read it again. If you do re-read it, I would love to discuss it with you.
Correction!: “While I was taught in school that she was shameful and to be pitied” should read, “While I was taught in school that she was shameful and to be pitied, on reading the novel for myself years later, I admired her although I didn’t always agree with her decisions.”
Thanks, Dingo, for your considered reply to my question. I recall being puzzled at what Hester saw in cowardly Dimsdale, but all the other points you mention went right past me when I read it at school. You make it sound much more interesting than I remember, so I’m really thinking I ought to give it another try, especially with my recent revised opinion on Hemingway. It might be worth a review here on VL if I do, so we might pick up this dialogue again in the near future.