I was a bit stunned by this chapter, to be honest. I have only read a handful of the books mentioned here and have never even heard of some. While I appreciate the books choices that my high school made, I am certainly feeling a little remiss in my reading habits. I feel as though I need to read all of these books now, if only to get a feel for what my future students may have read.
Out of the twelve most frequently required texts, I have only read seven. That is a majority, sure, but it still doesn’t seem like enough.
In Jago’s “A Note on Writing About Literature” (44), she brings up a fantastic idea. Having students write papers on novels that they are reading outside of class makes a LOT of sense to me. Classroom discussions are based on discovering those parts of a text that would be in an analytical paper, so why should students just spit out ideas from class discussion? In having students apply the ideas from discussion to a fresh text, then we (as teachers) can really see if they are grasping the material. I’ve never had a teacher do this, but I love it. It seemed like every time I was asked to read a novel for class, it was that novel that I wrote about. I’ll be honest here, it was usually a very boring paper because it was just information rehashed from class notes and maybe a few original ideas. I want my students to have a more active role with their reading assignments.
Then we come to the idea of workload. I have always been a big believer in having high expectations of other people. Students are no different. If you expect them to perform poorly, chances are that they will respond poorly. However, if you have high expectations and make those clear to students from the start, you’re more likely to have students put in the effort. Will there be students who just don’t care about a teacher’s expectations? Of course! You’re going to have those no matter what you’re doing, so why not make the assignments challenging for the rest of the students? We want students to work hard on school without overwhelming them. Coming up with a balance will be hard, but I’d sure like to try and figure it out.
There is also the idea presented in the text that teachers should prepare a full workload of novels, but be willing to cut something if time is running short. This requires even more thinking on the part of the teacher. We need to plan lessons and novels in a way that allows this in a non-harmful way. What does this mean? This can mean putting a less-relevant or “important” (in quotes here because all texts used in the classroom should have importance) text at the end of the semester/year.
Let’s talk about Jago’s criteria for choosing books, now.
Is the text written in language perfectly suited to the author’s purpose?
Does it expose readers to complex human dilemmas?
Does it include compelling, disconcerting characters?
Will it explore universal themes that combine different periods and cultures?
Does it challenge readers to examine their beliefs?
Does it tell a good story with placed for laughing and places for crying?
(pp 47)
Jago uses Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to demonstrate these ideas. While she admits that it is lacking in one area, it clearly meets all of the other criteria. I will admit here that some of her ideas have me excited to teach Frankenstein. That is something that I particularly enjoy about this book- it has me eager to try out some of the things she’s suggesting.
Anywho, let’s get back on topic with Jago’s criteria for book selection. I see great potential in her list, but I also have this niggling in the back of my mind saying that there needs to be something more. I can probably list a handful of books not considered classics, regularly used or considered “great books” that meet all of her criteria. I think that perhaps this may be one of my shortcomings when it comes to “great literature.” I can find something great in every work (so long as it’s not obnoxiously written, inexcusably poorly written or otherwise just bad text).
One such novel is The Redemption of Althalus by David and Leigh Eddings. Call me crazy, but it has the majority of old-school myth elements that come together (along with deities) to save the world.
Is the text written in language perfectly suited to the author’s purpose?
Yes. It is a more modern version of myth which involves modern language with a touch of mysticism.
Does it expose readers to complex human dilemmas?
Yes. There are issues of greed, religion/ faith, belief, strength, honor and trust.
Does it include compelling, disconcerting characters?
Yes. The primary protagonist starts out as a thief, bent on acquiring every last piece of gold he can find, but ends up collecting a group of unique individuals that will save the universe.
Will it explore universal themes that combine different periods and cultures?
Yes. We have a touch of classic mythology here with the gods and their wars, while incorporating tribal life with urban sprawl.
Does it challenge readers to examine their beliefs?
Yes. Readers must decide whether they are willing to lend a hand to the thieving Althalus or help him save the world. What would you do if a goddess herself offered you the chance to have everything? Would you give in to temptation?
Does it tell a good story with placed for laughing and places for crying?
Yes. The story itself is very well-crafted and keeps the reader wanting to flip pages until the very end. The time spent at the House at the End of the World is humorous yet frustrating. Emmy provides a humorous touch to the struggles that Althalus finds himself deeply engaged in. After all, learning the secrets of the world is challenging, is it not?
And now the big question: Would I teach this in my own classroom?
Probably not. Why? This is the type of novel that students can handle on their own with minor help from a teacher or other resource. I can see freshman and sophomores getting the most out of this book when it comes to difficulty level, but I feel that juniors and seniors could probably benefit from thought regarding temptation and being offered the world. Continuing with Jago’s idea from earlier, this would definitely be a recommended text for students to read outside of class. I would love to read an analysis of the characters and events of this novel. It would be a welcome break from more difficult texts while still providing enough “thought material” to chew on and write about.
I guess what I’m getting at here is that there needs to be another criterion added to Jago’s list:
Would I teach this in my classroom?
Many books can meet the criteria for being a great book, but it truly comes down to classroom use. I can see benefits to using books like The Redemption of Althalus for writing assignments, but not necessarily for classroom discussion. This is where I come back to the classics, the canonical works. Those texts that have been assigned in classrooms for centuries are there for a reason. They provide great and enduring examples of literary devices, great stories and questions of human life. I think that it’s important to use these texts in order to help students look at others (like the Eddings novel) in a different light.
We want enlightened readers. We want students eager to discover the motivations behind characters and their perhaps devious actions.
Most of all, we want students to then ask these questions of themselves.
It is a system of scaffolding. The teacher can help students understand these concepts in the classroom with difficult texts. Students can apply this information to slightly less difficult texts on their own, and then they can ask these questions of themselves. The latter may be the most difficult, but likely the most rewarding.
Fantastic post! I love how you took her criteria and applied a book to her criteria!
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