Written by As parents, teachers and students prepared for a new academic year, The Star published an article, written by Michael Reist, titled “Literature is the new Latin”. Reist has 30 years of teaching under his belt and is the author of two books.
Under the large image of a smart phone with apps magically appearing and falling onto a glowing screen the caption below it reads, “Who needs novels when the smartphone has brought all of cyberspace into the palm of one hand?”.
No, Reist is not being sarcastic. His claim is not satirical. He is deadly serious about the death of print and the rise of the pixel.
Reist claims that in today’s classroom, “reading literature means reading what the book’s about.” Reist argues that for those who have been raised with the Internet, literature has a boring format. There are no pictures, apps, sound effects, and no matter how you reformat it, you are stuck with thousands of words on hundreds of pages. “What could be more boring?” he asks.
For Reist, print is already dead. He regards senior level English courses as arbitrary prerequisites, stemming from a one-size-fits-all model of teaching and learning. He suggests making Grade 11 and 12 English courses optional, for the “students who value [literature]”. He claims he has heard the teenage masses speak and what they want is something that they can use in real life. He cites one of his Grade 10 students as a member of this united generational voice:
“But I’m going to be a video game designer! I don’t need to be able to read novels or write essays.”
Concerned with an English teacher’s claim that literature is dead and that its value and worth rest solely in its ability to sustain any reader’s attention, I decided to present Reist’s article to my Grade 11 English students, to see if, in fact, they too felt that literature was more effort than it was worth. Here is what they had to say:
Michael Reist’s thesis in his article “Literature is the New Latin” is extremely demotivating to my generation. I view the appreciation of literature as something that one has to acquire, and not something that comes with the blink of an eye. Many children seem to appreciate having stories read to them at a young age, but lose interest in these stories when they have to read them themselves. I would argue that this is derived from laziness, which, in a world where one’s phone can type out dictated text messages for those too lazy to type, is increasing. However, why I believe literature is so important and is not dying is because it gives an exciting and stimulating alternative to our innate laziness. As opposed to long and tedious chores, literature provides an exciting opening into a world other than our own, for us to appreciate and learn from. I believe this kind of stimulation, which requires focus for an extensive time and deep analytical thinking, is so vital to our generation, as our attention span is drastically decreasing. I hope that contrary to what Michael Reist argues, our school system continues to emphasize literature, as, in a world which now moves at such a rapid pace, the skills literature provides us, in terms of extensive focus and deeper thought and understanding, are far more rare, and therefore advantageous.
Another student responded with:
I have a neutral feeling when it comes to literature because my interests are very diverse when it comes to the subject. For example, there are certain books that I would be happy to read, and then do an extended study on. But, there are others that I dislike with a passion. I for one would enjoy taking a literature course a lot more if I were allowed to choose which books I wanted to read (which I have done).
All in all, I am glad for the opportunity to remove myself from the presence of a screen and enhance my mind with some well-written books.
Here is my response to Reist’s proposal to change required senior level English courses into elective courses for those who are interested.
Why study English?
I will start with a story:
The other day I read an article on the BBC website that declared the vessel that had inspired Herman Meville had been discovered off the coast of Hawaii. Fascinated with the sea and the secrets that it keeps, I pulled my dusty copy of Moby Dick from my bookshelf and began to reread the whale’s tale. I was struck by the bright streams of turquoise and magenta as I read the passages I had highlighted and marked fifteen years ago when I first read the leviathan novel. How I love retracing the notes and lines scribbled in the margins of books I loved when I was young. It’s as if I am reading a diary, or studying a found photograph, forgotten within the pages of a book and only now recently surfacing. It’s as if I am reading letters written to myself about the things that resonated deeply with me when I was young, a reminder, almost, or a rally cry, perhaps, to not forget why these passages were important.
They were not highlighted necessarily because of their import to the narrative, or because they were exemplary of some literary or poetic device, but rather because in them, there was me. These passages connected me to something more, to something I felt I had always known, but perhaps had never articulated aloud or even consciously noted in myself.
The passages are reminders of my curiosity and I am relieved to discover that I could appreciate beauty and celebrate it, even back then. It is as though I am standing outside of myself and seeing myself as a separate being. And liking what I see.
Literature can do that.
Why study English? Because English is the closest we can get to understanding who we are, and why that matters. Because through the stories of others we are presented with a roadmap leading back to our own beginnings, to what is familiar and profound about our beings. Because science can only take us so far, because the human heart defies logic, because we are always under our constant state of becoming, because English shows us what it means to be human. It reminds us. Of what we already know. And perhaps have forgotten, or maybe neglected.
I could tell you that story-telling was our first education. That oral tradition of story-telling can be found in most cultures and civilizations, that it was used to explain our origins, to sway masses to believe that the ‘Other’ was evil, to convince and persuade, to show and to communicate. That gravity is best understood by the story of Newton’s apple, that landing on the moon can be understood by the metaphor of a footstep.
The study of English allows us, and shows us how, to be still, to see without telescopes and microscopes, but with words. Words. Words that can bridge and sever, build and destroy, blind and reveal to us how to see the beauty and the burden of being human.
Well said, Shelley. Let’s hope that your words are not a voice crying in the wilderness. Liked the comments by your students. We have to listen to the past, read the past, otherwise we just start all over again to reach the same conclusions. Not a good legacy to leave our students. Thank you for this.
Thanks so much for this post. I am a Senior English teacher and Department Chair, and I would hate to think that English Literature will be obsolete within this century.
Just yesterday at the Canwest Qualifier for the National Public Speaking and Debate Competition, an event wonderfully hosted by Appleby College, the topic of the impromptu debate was BIRT that the government should protect the paper book from the rise of the e book. The students tackled this topic using their keen critical thinking and oratory skills. I would hazard to guess that the majority of the students have achieved their oratory successes as a result of books (fiction and non-fiction), poetry, treatises and articles read, analyzed and discussed within the English classroom or any other Humanities/Social Science classroom, for that matter.
Reist’s assertions on the non-value of courses such as ENG3U and ENG4U show a lack of understanding of what can be read and done and engaged within an English program.
Loved chatting with you on Saturday, Sally. It’s such a good feeling to find a kindred spirit. I am inspired and excited by the work that is coming out of Cohort21. There is a wealth of knowledge and experience within the group. I would love to extend our dialogue further. Not sure if you have defined your action plan, as of yet, but I would be open to teaming up on some of these ideas.
Thinking further on the subject, I recall my past ten years of professional development at Ridley, at NCTE, CIS and CITE conferences that focused almost entirely on teaching through technology. I can’t recall a single keynote speaker or workshop session that didn’t promote teaching by computer. My own years of personal experience, trial and error and sheer devotion to books enabled me to find the “still point of the turning world” and read to my students in class, hoping to spark a private dialogue in their heads between their own inner voice and that of the narrator. My personal pd was supplied by my own reading and discussion, in the old-fashioned way, with my colleagues in the dept.
How do we otherwise engage students with literary fiction/poetry/drama? If our pd continues to be dominated by the gurus of the new technology who often harangue their listeners to believe that the book and its wisdom are things of the past, then how will new teachers find the confidence to embrace slow, undistracted and reflective narrative, and inspire their students to do the same? I embrace a balance and suggest that pd for English teachers does the same. I don’t think that’s happening now and it hasn’t been happening for years. Perhaps it’s time to retrace our steps and find the fork in the road (apologies to Yogi Berra).
Thanks, Colin. In these debates students often get a bad rap.
They are often preempted, spoken for, as minds are made up about where they are coming from and what they must want. I’ve noticed a trend in these debates that assumes students will inevitably opt for shortcuts and escape hatches to avoid extended periods of uninterrupted focused reading because what they are asked to read (and how they are asked to read) “no longer matters”.
Ask your former students, and they will tell you the opposite is true. You know this firsthand. I am reminded of the time your Writer’s Craft students presented you with a bound collection of their best work at the end of their year as a way to say ‘thank you’ for all you had given and been for them. What an honor. But, you are a master teacher and this was not a surprise (to your students or colleagues). Many students feel malnourished in their studies as they are constantly grazing, but never feeling satiated. In your classroom, you always made sure the table was full.
Your words from “A Life Sentence” come to mind, now. I couldn’t agree with you more:
When they are giving it their best shot, English teachers help students to plug into the silence amid the noise of the market-oriented skills we are told will give us a place in the global economy. In that silence and solitude grows the bright green shoot of our inner voice and our humanity. Do we have room for this in our curriculum? I think it’s immeasurably important that we do. It’s what I can only hope and try to do whenever I walk into my classroom and again start pacing the floor with an open book in my hand.
Love this post and will share it with my students and English department.
Thank you for the shout outs (online and at 2nd F2F), Justin. I appreciate the support and enthusiasm. Thanks for connecting!
Total agreement. I’m not an English teacher, rather I have a math background, then tech, and now in administration. But I love talking with my English teachers. And what I do know is that studying Literature isn’t reading stories and writing essays. Or it shouldn’t be. If it is, some serious conversations need to be had with that English department. Studying Literature is understanding the human condition. It’s recognizing human frailty and potential. It’s being awed by the power of what others can do with words. Words that inspire, activate imagination, tap into emotion, or offer insight into the magic and pain that is Life.
Yann Martel wrote a book that captured people’s heart and imaginations. A million pixels of a guy on a lifeboat with a tiger could hardly do that.
If High School education is supposed to be solely about fitting path to the desires of what 14-18 year olds WANT to learn, then we are missing out on our RESPONSIBILITY (or is it moral obligation?) to open their minds and provide them with the chance to understand themselves, the world, and each other better.
We may have a lot of gadgets and 1’s and 0’s out there. And I think we live in an amazing time where knowledge has been democratized and thinking has become premium. But if we lose Literature from students’ learning experience, we lose.
Count me as someone working to keep it in schools.
Thanks for reading and offering feedback, Dennis. Your comment about responsibility resonates with me. We do our students a disservice if we cave and cater to their wants of and demands for quick, flashy, and streamlined education.
Several teachers on this comment board have written about this sense of responsibility, too. One teacher suggests we have the great responsibility to act as guides and hosts of literature, music, and other expressions of art. Another teacher commented on the legacy we leave our students.
Happy to have made a connection here. I will be sure to follow your blog. Thanks and hope to connect again soon.
An inspiring defense of literature. I think we could make the same argument, by extension, for all art. It’s what enables us to stand outside ourselves and see the universe, others, and eventually ourselves more clearly.
Is Mr Reist lamenting the “death of print”? Or just chronicling it? First, I’m not convinced that print is dead. My school recently held a fundraiser at a local Barnes and Noble. Our library received a percentage of sales from that day that were ticketed for the school. Total sales were over $11,000. That’s a lot of print!
If Reist is saying that today’s kids just don’t want to do do close reading anymore because it’s not instant… I’ve been around long enough to remember those arguments being made about TV, movies, rock music, videogames, the internet, IMing, etc. It’s our job as teachers to model the love of literature and other great art and to act as hosts and guides to introduce the next generation(s) to these cultural treasures.
I taught English for over 20 years and now am a technology coordinator. I believe in the power of words, and I don’t see the rise of recent technologies as the beginning of the downfall of literacy. But that’s a discussion for another day.
I will be sharing your wise words with some fellow teachers.
Thank you for reading and responding, Bob. You were the first teacher to show me the beauty and power of words. To this day, you continue to mentor and inspire. Host, Guardian, Guide. You have been all, and I will forever be grateful.
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I am happy to hear that your school’s library is alive and well. More and more I read about empty carrels and dusty stacks being replaced with state-of-the-art media centers. Don’t get me wrong. I believe in the importance of embracing and modeling multiple literacies and support initiatives that promote reading, deciphering, and decoding the various texts that pervade our lives. But, like you, I embrace effective traditional models of reading and writing, too.
Two years ago, Ridley’s English department hosted the Conference of Independent Teachers of English (CITE). Distinguished authors, teachers, students, and members of the public took part in workshops, debates, and critical discussions about the future of books and teaching and learning in the 21st century.
Panelists explored the place of print and literature. “Is the printed book dead or is it simply late for its own funeral?” Is it true that, as one columnist suggests, in “a world where attention is being devalued through the progressive commercialization of human consciousness” very act of reading is threatened?
Why is it that, in a year when we are told Canadians have bought more books than ever before, the traditional publisher and bookseller are under siege?
In England, recently, the Browne Report on higher education explicitly equates the value of a course with the future earnings potential value of the students who take it. That is the common chord in a pedagogical symphony that plays across North America as well: the counterpoint, as always, is provided by the liberal arts, the teachers of art, music, history, philosophy and of course English.
The role of 21st century education needs to be de/refined. To view it simply as a means to an end is myopic and robs us and our students of the fulfillment and joy that stem from learning for a lifetime.
Thank you for sharing this post and thank you for your continual support and generosity, Bob.
Shelley,
Your well spoken defense of literature is reason enough to keep literature in its place. If, as Reist suggests, literature is to be measured so “it’s value and worth rests solely in its ability to sustain any reader’s attention,” my attention was sustained and I am convinced. In addition, I find it a weak logic to rest my conviction on the words of the tenth grader who said: “But I’m going to be a video game designer! I don’t need to be able to read novels or write essays.” Not because this is the voice of a tenth grader, but because he can not know what path his life may really take, despite his dreams to be a video game designer. In an age when people find themselves in many different professions by the end of their career, it is all the more reason to be well read and well versed in the art of reading.
But here is what also struck me…….
If “reading literature means reading what the book’s about,” then sadly our appreciation of any of the world’s great artists would be limited to learning only what “a piece of art is about” and not actually ever viewing an artist’s masterpiece. We all have experienced the difference. Unlike many forms of art, literature is one that we can access easily and without great expense. Of all forms of art, it is most likely to be the one that is incorporated into our everyday lives as adults. Is it not too soon to be making decisions about the longevity of an art form that has been with us for close to eternity? It would be grievous to deprive a generation (or two) of their entrance into the “wardrobe,” in our pursuit of theory. Literature and technology are already complimenting each other. It does not have to be either or. Words are such a strong conduit into the human soul. The world would be a lesser place without literature to sustain and encourage us; to chronicle our thoughts and dreams; and through which we share our passions and experiences with so many others whom otherwise we would never meet. So….”Let’s not be hasty.”
Jean! Thank you for reading and commenting. It is wonderful to connect. The wonders of the Internet!
Loved this comment and couldn’t agree more: “If “reading literature means reading what the book’s about,” then sadly our appreciation of any of the world’s great artists would be limited to learning only what “a piece of art is about” and not actually ever viewing an artist’s masterpiece. We all have experienced the difference.”
So true. I remember when Sarah and I went to see the Barnes Exhibit during our senior year. We had been studying the Impressionists and Expressionists in great detail for months, and were now finally going to view their work up close, intimately.
We were mesmerized. Transfixed. Textbook vs. the real thing? No comparison.
The rise of simulacra is an interesting phenomenon in itself. And textbooks full of glossy images make the works of Monet, Manet, and Van Gogh widely available to those who may not otherwise have access to galleries. But when we as teachers actively choose the substitute when the ‘real thing’ is available, when Shakespeare ‘vacuumed’ is taught without an understanding or acknowledgement of the full folio text, what is it that we impart to our students? And what do we end up denying them? Vital questions.
http://pandawhale.com/post/10016/how-i-replaced-shakespeare-joel-stein-of-time-magazine-on-common-core-state-standards
It appears that the College Board in the US is downgrading literary fiction in favour of preparing students for writing business reports. Unless this is a Joel Stein leg pull it looks like an early RIP for the literary imagination. Perhaps someone can enlighten me. Is Twitterature here to stay? We live in a culture that needs to shake its head. “Cool” will never be passion but it seems to hold the Donald Trump card these days.