Being critical of books isn't a bad thing. I always find it funny when students apologize to me for not liking a novel we've read in class. My stock response is always, "Why are you apologizing to me? I didn't write it."
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| This is me when I hear any Miley Cyrus song on the radio. |
I understand that not all books will resonate with all students. Even novels that overwhelmingly receive rave reviews from students, like Markus Zusak's I am the Messenger, leave some students unimpressed or uninspired. The inability to get 100% of students to like a book does not make me feel like a failure as a teacher, nor does it make a book a bad book.
Just like with any other piece of art, music, or film, everyone's tastes differ. My preference for country music does not demand that others listen to it any more than I should be subjected to Miley Cyrus. (Just. No.)
However, I have learned, not only through the course of finding my way back to reading for enjoyment, but also through being an English major, that books, like many new things in life that are presented to us, deserve a sincere attempt.
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| Don't be jealous of my amazing HP costume. |
If I stuck to my narrow-minded view of fantasy back in the spring of 2001, when I was a junior in college who believed her roommate was a wacko talking about wizards and muggles, I would have missed out on a literary world of wonder. Similarly, to have dismissed the Harry Potter series simply because it was Children's or Young Adult--a term that thankfully has lost much of the negative connotation it once held through other wonderful writers like John Green-- would have stripped me of the ability to find comfort and escape in re-reading the magic of words when I was going through a hard period of my life.
Not every book I've given a sincere attempt at has worked out so nicely, however. To this day, The Time Traveler's Wife, a book the boasts 4.5 stars out of 5 on Barnes & Noble, has a bookmark stuck in the pages about a third of the way through. It was the first book in my life I've given myself permission to "Miley Cyrus" (I'm making it a verb now) and just say no to. There was nothing in either of the characters I cared about, so I figured, why keep reading?
It is important to note here that I was reading Time Traveler's for my own enjoyment, and not for a class. There have been plenty of school-assigned titles I wasn't pumped about reading: Tartuffe comes to mind. Pure torture. But for every Tartuffe the was a Magus. John Fowles's postmodern head game that is The Magus was an intense read because I could not lose focus for a second. It was to me what A Tale of Two Cities is to my freshmen. Complex, layered, and hard work--but worth every second of that work.
I walked away from The Magus experience with a much deeper understanding of the individual and was able to connect that lesson of self-knowledge to the self I was in the midst of defining as I neared the end of my college tenure; however, I would not have been able to get that depth of understanding had I read The Magus on my own. I'd have been in way over my head without the discussions with my peers and the probing questions of my professor.
In the same vein, I hope students walk away from A Tale of Two Cities appreciating the power of stepping up, doing what is right, and choosing love over hate, even if they kicked and screamed the whole way through, because I was able to guide, to explain, to clarify, and, hopefully to infuse some of my own passion for the characters in them. Again, I'm not delusional that all will feel that way, but end-of-the-year surveys tend to play out OK for 'ole Dickens.
While there needs to be room for contemporary titles where the language might be easier to understand, but the lessons and issues are no less complex, hard work and thinking are not fatal, especially in the classroom where there is a coach to help guide students along. I strive to strike a balance between classic and contemporary in the classroom. However, students can do themselves a favor by picking up a book outside of class, one aligned with their interests and tastes, to keep their minds sharp and primed to tackle the more difficult texts that will be presented in the classroom.
As with any skill one hopes to develop, practice makes perfect. The brain is a muscle in constant need of conditioning. However mundane the drills may seem, a student can't hope to master the curve if (s)he never takes some practice swings.
