We all remember our high school English classes, when we would flip open our Bella Swan-covered three-ring binders and alternate between writing down the symbolic representations of Hemingway’s fisherman and frantically scribbling dialogue for our Twilight fan fiction. Oh, how I envied Edward’s carefree hair and brooding gaze. But it was those tedious lessons in extended metaphor from authors long dead that typified literature for much of our formative years. We wrestled with why we should still care about a minister’s affair 150 years after Hawthorne wrote about that shameful letter A, or why it matters to a 16 year-old hopped up on Spree candies and Mountain Dew that George and Lennie just can’t seem to make their farm dreams come true. So what we learned was books are good because older people tell us they are. Trust that teacher. The frazzled, middle-aged lady with coffee-stained teeth and hair dripping out of her bun, leaning not so subtly on that government-granted tenure, surely knows what she’s talking about.
But as we get older, we discover that some literature actually was good and always will be (see To Kill a Mockingbird), and some really was awful and still is (see The Catcher in the Rye). There is, in some cases, some relative consistency from our teenaged selves to our wiser, college-aged versions. Yet, for many works, we truly must grow up to appreciate them. In no particular order, here are a few examples of literary texts that deserve a second look in college.
5. Moby Dick
Teachers make the mistake of leading young students through this monstrous book by attempting to find meaning in a sea of meaninglessness—or, rather, an overabundance of meaning. This is not some modernistic excuse for bad writing; rather, we must have the maturity to look at the text as indicative of all texts. Following Ahab, Queequeg, Ishmael, and their wild cast of doomed sailors in the face of nature’s fury is an exploration of life itself. It’s fragmented, it requires all elements of worldly knowledge, and it shifts between beauty and terror with disorienting speed. Trying to go symbol hunting through the whiteness or the try-works or anything related to cetology is an exercise in wasted reading power. Like investing in the P90X, you will certainly work up a sweat, but you’ll end up bored, confused, and wondering, “Why does everyone recommend this?” By the time we reach our twenties, we can accept that Moby Dick is ultimately just a book. And that can help us understand that it is also the book.
4. Animal Farm
Some claim that Orwell’s short satire is flawed because it bashes its readers over the skull with its message like a twitchy blacksmith playing Whack-a-Mole. While there is merit in that critique, the reply is simply, who cares? The point of satire or analogy or personification or any other literary device is to convey a message in a unique way. While high-schoolers may appreciate Orwell’s warning of Communism, by the time this book can be read in college, a reader has perhaps held a job, voted for public officials, and formulated a reasonable political perspective. Animal Farm is a story of power. When leaders seem like they are more compassionate or smarter than their constituents, a more experienced reader can hopefully grasp that politicians from every political stripe can end up being pigs.
3. The Great Gatsby
I remember tackling the superficial Gatsby and the neurotic Daisy when I was fifteen, and I just didn’t get it. I mean, I got the American Dream stuff and the frivolity of the 1920s. But I never grasped Fitzgerald’s hype. Until college. With a few extra years under my belt, I was able to appreciate not only the exquisite prose that signifies Fitzgerald’s unmatched voice for details and tone, but also the confusion of Nick’s narration, the humanity and depravity of every single character, and the tension of that sweltering New York summer. Every name in the novel can be pitied and despised, many simultaneously. A college reader doesn’t need to get caught up in the ominous eyes of a dilapidated billboard and can, instead, spend time accepting that every person simply pursues what he or she wants, regardless of how misguided those aims may be. And the sooner college kids learn to stop pursuing a love or a dream that will never happen, by letting go of life’s Daisys, the better off we will be.
2. Death of a Salesman
During a time of life when we are faced with the stresses of finding a career path and breaking away from parental influence, college students can appreciate Arthur Miller’s play much more than a younger reader can. The clash between parents and children defines many of our lives, and the search for fulfillment in a world of rapidly-changing economic conditions is as familiar as ever. Read Willy’s struggle not as a man slowly falling into madness, but as a man simply trying to understand himself, while trying to provide for his family. And notice Biff’s arc for its repressed frustration with his father as it presents itself through endless bouts of stupidity. These are men who can’t seem to get out of their own way. College is a perfect place for facing such realities within ourselves.
1. The Canterbury Tales
Misguided teachers often assign portions of this 14th century text to memorize in a foolish attempt to get students to connect with medieval language. But all this does is make students hate one of the most hilarious and insightful works in literary history. Though it is useful to explain the importance of breaking tradition at that time by using vernacular English, as opposed to French or Latin, all students see is that Chaucer’s English makes Shakespeare look like Dr. Seuss. Get an edition with footnotes and dive in to some of the bravest storytelling in history. The Tales are disgusting and heroic, ribald and virtuous. Chaucer challenges the Church while still seeking morality, he flips gender roles upside down, and he stages the pilgrimage in a fragmented, yet unified, style that resembles many frame narratives with which we are familiar, but challenges our notions of what actually comprises a “story”. While teens may not be prepared to appreciate such complexity, a college student should revel in Chaucer’s joy at messing with his readers and all the institutions that define them.
What other books can you think of that were disliked in high school but improved upon readings later in life? I love to hear!
But as we get older, we discover that some literature actually was good and always will be (see To Kill a Mockingbird), and some really was awful and still is (see The Catcher in the Rye). There is, in some cases, some relative consistency from our teenaged selves to our wiser, college-aged versions. Yet, for many works, we truly must grow up to appreciate them. In no particular order, here are a few examples of literary texts that deserve a second look in college.
5. Moby Dick
Teachers make the mistake of leading young students through this monstrous book by attempting to find meaning in a sea of meaninglessness—or, rather, an overabundance of meaning. This is not some modernistic excuse for bad writing; rather, we must have the maturity to look at the text as indicative of all texts. Following Ahab, Queequeg, Ishmael, and their wild cast of doomed sailors in the face of nature’s fury is an exploration of life itself. It’s fragmented, it requires all elements of worldly knowledge, and it shifts between beauty and terror with disorienting speed. Trying to go symbol hunting through the whiteness or the try-works or anything related to cetology is an exercise in wasted reading power. Like investing in the P90X, you will certainly work up a sweat, but you’ll end up bored, confused, and wondering, “Why does everyone recommend this?” By the time we reach our twenties, we can accept that Moby Dick is ultimately just a book. And that can help us understand that it is also the book.
4. Animal Farm
Some claim that Orwell’s short satire is flawed because it bashes its readers over the skull with its message like a twitchy blacksmith playing Whack-a-Mole. While there is merit in that critique, the reply is simply, who cares? The point of satire or analogy or personification or any other literary device is to convey a message in a unique way. While high-schoolers may appreciate Orwell’s warning of Communism, by the time this book can be read in college, a reader has perhaps held a job, voted for public officials, and formulated a reasonable political perspective. Animal Farm is a story of power. When leaders seem like they are more compassionate or smarter than their constituents, a more experienced reader can hopefully grasp that politicians from every political stripe can end up being pigs.
3. The Great Gatsby
I remember tackling the superficial Gatsby and the neurotic Daisy when I was fifteen, and I just didn’t get it. I mean, I got the American Dream stuff and the frivolity of the 1920s. But I never grasped Fitzgerald’s hype. Until college. With a few extra years under my belt, I was able to appreciate not only the exquisite prose that signifies Fitzgerald’s unmatched voice for details and tone, but also the confusion of Nick’s narration, the humanity and depravity of every single character, and the tension of that sweltering New York summer. Every name in the novel can be pitied and despised, many simultaneously. A college reader doesn’t need to get caught up in the ominous eyes of a dilapidated billboard and can, instead, spend time accepting that every person simply pursues what he or she wants, regardless of how misguided those aims may be. And the sooner college kids learn to stop pursuing a love or a dream that will never happen, by letting go of life’s Daisys, the better off we will be.
2. Death of a Salesman
During a time of life when we are faced with the stresses of finding a career path and breaking away from parental influence, college students can appreciate Arthur Miller’s play much more than a younger reader can. The clash between parents and children defines many of our lives, and the search for fulfillment in a world of rapidly-changing economic conditions is as familiar as ever. Read Willy’s struggle not as a man slowly falling into madness, but as a man simply trying to understand himself, while trying to provide for his family. And notice Biff’s arc for its repressed frustration with his father as it presents itself through endless bouts of stupidity. These are men who can’t seem to get out of their own way. College is a perfect place for facing such realities within ourselves.
1. The Canterbury Tales
Misguided teachers often assign portions of this 14th century text to memorize in a foolish attempt to get students to connect with medieval language. But all this does is make students hate one of the most hilarious and insightful works in literary history. Though it is useful to explain the importance of breaking tradition at that time by using vernacular English, as opposed to French or Latin, all students see is that Chaucer’s English makes Shakespeare look like Dr. Seuss. Get an edition with footnotes and dive in to some of the bravest storytelling in history. The Tales are disgusting and heroic, ribald and virtuous. Chaucer challenges the Church while still seeking morality, he flips gender roles upside down, and he stages the pilgrimage in a fragmented, yet unified, style that resembles many frame narratives with which we are familiar, but challenges our notions of what actually comprises a “story”. While teens may not be prepared to appreciate such complexity, a college student should revel in Chaucer’s joy at messing with his readers and all the institutions that define them.
What other books can you think of that were disliked in high school but improved upon readings later in life? I love to hear!