How many of you out there are thinking: "Gee, you know that Eric Strege fellow is quite remarkably interesting; I wish I knew a little more about him." If so , you are in luck, for my blog is here to quell the raging storm of your uncertainty. I was reviewing an article that I had read for a pedagogy course and stumbled upon the below question and thought that I would respond, and make said response available to you, my loyal readership. Also, the follow-up to my last blog is on its way, but intense mid-term cramming has slowed the process. Enjoy!
Did you learn literary strategies that help you enjoy literature by yourself? How did you learn the strategies, consciously or unconsciously? Are you aware of having been taught them? If so, when and by whom?
This exploration is beginning to be answered in less than a paragraph, for if our strategies for enjoying literature where truly developed in the unconscious, than there is no possible way of divulging any information of consequence, unless, of course, we had the help of one Dr. Sigmund Freud or one of his direct intellectual descendents. But in the spirit of blog length, I will humor the prompt and probe myself for an appropriate answer.
I first took interest in literature merely by ceasing books that seemed to be of interest to me, or perhaps more importantly, books that were available for me to read. I am sure that my parents read to me as a young child, and even can recall certain instances that I can dredge up from my preconscious (I thought it appropriate to continue with Freudian jargon, only because I am amused how unwittingly people use it, especially if they are self proclaimed skeptics.) which I do believe has an effect on children’s retaining of literary joy. Nevertheless, I believe that, in the beginning at least, there is not a way to instill in children an appreciation for literature; rather, it is something to which the child is predisposed. In my early years of education, many activities were done to get us children involved in the text, and, I suppose, help us enjoy the book that we were reading; but I know for a fact that it did not have as profound of an effect as most teachers thought it would, on most children. I admit that I became extremely caught up in the sensationalism of activities, especially when it was a text that I was enjoying. But therein lies the rub, how much did the actual activity help me to appreciate the book, if I had already decided that I enjoyed it. Wouldn’t that mean that I was the sole dictator of my own literary appreciations? And, if so, why did I appreciate the text, could it have been that I was merely predisposed to such interests? Take for example the book Holes, two children read it, one deciding that it is an adventurous romp through deserted terrain, and exploration of a mysterious treasure. The other, on the other hand, decides that the book is boring, “who cares about sand anyhow?” Now why did these two children have such differing views? It was simply a reader/text relationship; no discussion, no activities, no supposed literary appreciation techniques. The question then is asked, would the children’s opinions have been changed by any teacher concocted methods? I would argue that, no, literary strategies would not make a difference to these children, because the one child will still love the book, and the other will only become more exasperated with the text and now possibly the teacher! The same argument can be made for students at the collegiate level. A professor choosing texts that are counter to a certain students interests will only flounder under their seeming profundity, and will fail to have the same impact as if they were teaching students who fawned over such texts.
Thusly, a person’s interest in literature is unconsciously structured, becoming altered slightly, if at all, by strategies that are constructed to convince children, young adults, adults, that a said text is one that is literary.
So, there you have it. As always, read, respond, argue, comment!
As Always,
Eric W. Strege
Enthusiasm can be infectious at any age, and I believe it is documented that very young children are more likely to enlist a positive attitude towards something (a course of action, a task, something that involves a measure of bravery ...) if a trusted adult gives out positive vibes and perhaps leads by example.
ReplyDeleteA parent/teacher/grandparent/TV presenter who genuinely enjoys literature (or a particular story or poem) will often translate that joy to the child as the book is 'read together'. Certainly this was my experience, and I am very grateful for it.
Of course, an excess of enthusiasm can be off-putting in some contexts. Few children enjoy being 'directed' towards a book that they are 'expected' to enjoy!
One of the things that I love about how my parents raised me is that they rarely treated my sister or I like little kids. Sure they played with us and sure they took control in all those kinds of parenting situations that little kids need to be controlled in, but they never baby-talked us, they frequently asked for our opinions, and they gave us credit for having some kind of understanding that was advanced beyond carebears, ninja turtles, and (I shudder to think) Dick and Jane books.
ReplyDeleteThe first book I can remember my father reading aloud to my sister and I (I would've been about five or six at the time) was The Hobbit. I'm sure that there were sillier books read aloud to us, and shorter ones, but my first real impression of how awesome books could be is firmly cemented in the memory of my sister and I snuggled up together in bed, mouths open and eyes wide, listening to the adventures of Bilbo and the dwarves as they fought dragons and searched for treasure.
Until that time I actually couldn't read - I was (and really still am) struggling with dyslexia and hadn't found any motivation in the insipid 1st grade classroom standard books to learn to read; they didn't have anything to offer me so I didn't care about learning how to understand what they said. But my dad, an excellent 1st grade teacher, and The Hobbit changed that.
By the time I was seven I could and wanted to read, and I tended to go for the sorts of books that hinted at origins in the fantasy world of Tolkien - if it had a unicorn, dragon, sea monster or adventuresome knight on the cover, I wanted to read it and I wanted to read it now. I may have eventually chosen to look into books for pleasure later on down the line without the encouragement of my dad, my teacher, and Tolkien, but then again, I might not have, and so from my experience I'm pretty much forced to say that my positive attitude toward reading was strongly encouraged and bolstered by my parents and the kinds of things they liked to read. It's one of the things I'm most thankful for - they've always supported me as an individual, and have always wanted the best for me, but the best gift they've ever given me that I can never lose is the love of reading that started out with a wizard thumping on a round door and a curt "good morning!".
Here's to Bilbo Baggins!
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