I’m sorry to break it to you, but literature’s objective is not to make you feel good. Not always, anyway. Literature’s objective is to make the reader think and reflect. Often times literature places us in situations that are uncomfortable, forces us to examine perspectives drastically different from our own, and perhaps even forces us to encounter language that is ugly. And you know what? That should be okay.
It’s becoming increasingly challenging to be an English literature teacher because the scrutiny involved can be overwhelming; it seems to be popular, these days, to question the texts being studied. Surprisingly, I don’t have much of an issue with that. In fact, I think it’s incredibly important to provide students with a rationale behind the text choices prior to reading them. However, this rationale never includes how I think the text will make students feel – that’s up to them and their level of engagement. I worry that our civilization is very much concerned with feeling good all the time (cue up soma from Brave New World) that we’re willing to sacrifice good learning opportunities in order to leave room for happiness. It has become easier for our world to censor texts based on fruitless arguments. For example, I LOVE having to defend my choice to teach Lord of the Flies (something I’ve only had to do in recent years). I NEVER get tired of hearing: “But c’mon, it’s a really depressing novel”, or “Why not teach something more modern?” If I didn’t relay the sarcasm strong enough, just know that it’s there.
Emotions are weighed heavier than intellect these days. I want to say that it’s because everyone can relate to their emotions because they’re obviously personal, but not everyone is guided by intellect.
It is often suggested that I should teach something more happy.
Perhaps it’s important to uncover why it is that there aren’t more “happy” texts taught.
Over the years I have given this a lot of thought and have drawn only one conclusion:
Self-reflection, change, and learning typically occurs during times when things don’t go right. Think of times when you’ve experienced trauma, or difficulty within relationships, or challenging obstacles, these are times when things didn’t go right and when you felt like you were at your lowest point. These situations cause us to problem solve, reflect, and/or learn. Novels allow us to experience these same traumas, relationships, and obstacles in the pursuit of obtaining understanding and, sometimes, showing empathy. Novels of this caliber is the perfect medium that enables us to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. If we continue to discourage students from reading novels because of the fear that they may encounter something uncomfortable, then we’re limiting their capacity to learn.
Moreover, as our sensitivity continues to grow, cancel culture becomes stronger. The merit of an author should be based solely on their art yet there seems to be some controversy with this as well. Shakespeare could create a character like Shylock (a Jewish-Venetian moneylender – The Merchant of Venice) and that used to be okay. But now, look at what happened to a young author in 2019: Amélie Wen Zhao’s novel Blood Heir was nearly pulled from publication because her depiction of black slavery was deemed insensitive. Furthermore, it seems as though critics didn’t want this perspective of slavery being shared by an author writing outside of her own cultural experience – that is to say, they didn’t want an Asian writing about slavery. Amélie eventually decided to go through with her publication despite the heavy criticism.
Reading a novel is an experience – some novels you will like and others you won’t, but why not let the individual reader decide? I stay away from roller coasters because I’m afraid of heights. I don’t rally to shut down the whole theme park by trying to be the implementing voice for all people afraid of heights.
I’ll leave you with a passage from Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451:
Coloured people don’t like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don’t feel good about Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Burn it. Someone’s written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity…Peace… (Bradbury 59)
Apathy and Urgency 