Thoughts on Teaching Literature

by Brian Wasko

I became an English teacher back in 1989 because I wanted to share my love for books with teenagers. As a child, I would create tiny reading caves using pillows and blankets, where I could cozy up with Tarzan and the Hardy boys. After my seventh grade English teacher convinced me to try Tolkien, I spent the next year wandering Middle Earth, fighting orcsand palling around with elves and hobbits. It’s not like I consciously decided way back then to become a teacher, but it certainly set me on the path.

Discovering that the only thing better than enjoying a good book myself is introducing it to others and seeing them catch the same fire is what led me to teach English and eventually create WriteAtHome,

One of the things I love about teaching literature is the impractical nature of literary study. There’s a recurring and unfortunate tendency in education to focus on skills that will prepare students for success in the workplace. Now, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea to prepare kids to function productively and profitably down the road. I’m just saying that’s not all education should be about.

Studying literature doesn’t do that. At least not directly. Not many jobs require a knowledge of Romantic poetry and Shakesperean drama. If you’re creative, you can come up with pragmatic benefits for studying literature, sure: It teaches you to read and think critically, which helps in all kinds of jobs. It helps foster skill with language, which can be a benefit in the marketplace, etc. But that’s missing the point.

Studying literature isn’t as much about making us good employees, but good human beings. Which is a way more satisfying objective for teaching in my mind. The world’s great books and poems are better for our souls than for our resumes.

I fear a day when literary study is tossed aside like so many music and art programs, because it’s viewed as something nice but extraneous and expendable. This kind of thinking is rooted in a truncated perspective on mankind that views people merely as complex machines and not as diverse and unfathomable convergences of body, mind, and soul. Fully developed human beings should be the goal of education, not just a productive work force, if you ask me.

So, I think literature should be taught differently from the more pragmatic subjects. It’s not about memorizing dates and the names of authors or being able to define literary terms or summarize plot points. It’s about meaningful, personal engagement with the books. Ultimately, it’s about inspiring and nurturing a life-long love of reading and equipping students to read more deeply.

That’s why I don’t give tests in my literature classes. I don’t quiz them on literary terms. We define them so we can use them to talk about the books we read. Because more than anything I want them to get literature. I want them to understand what they are reading so that it forces them to think, feel, and grow. I want them to encounter and appreciate the beauty of language and of original thoughts creatively expressed. I want them to fall in love with books.

That’s why WriteAtHome literature classes are organized the way they are. Students spend most the week reading—engaging with the books. Then we get together for an hour to talk about the books.

I had a parent recently complain that the class felt more like a book club discussion than a literary analysis class. I took it as a compliment. That’s exactly how I want the class to feel. I want students to learn without even realizing they’re learning.

I tell my students regularly that lots of English teachers get it all backwards. They use books to teach literary terms. Text books do this. There will be a chapter on Character Development or Symbolism and then an assortment of readings that illustrate the concepts. At the end, kids take a test on the concepts.

In my classes, it’s the other way around. We teach terms and concepts so that we can better appreciate the books. We define theme so we can recognize themes as they emerge in the poems and stories we read, adding depth and enjoyment to our experience of reading.

If doing literary analysis detracts from your enjoyment of a work of literature, you’re doing it wrong. All good literary analysis starts with the question, “Why do I love this book/story/poem so much?” Figuring that out is part of the joy of reading.

If a student comes away from my class with lots of knowledge about authors and literature, but no increased passion for reading, I consider that a failure. Infinitely more good books exist than I can teach in four years of high school. All I can do is give students a quick skim across the surface of a few dozen of them. But if I can also trigger a greater interest in books, if I can ignite a spark of passion for reading and provide some rudimentary tools for understanding and appreciating literature, then there’s a good chance that they will continue reading well beyond my limited influence. And that will pay off for the rest of their lives.