Return of the Plot

Sometimes I think I struggle with the idea of great literature more than the average literature major or gradate student. The cannon bothers me, but not for the usual matters of who was left out -- although many a great writer has been ignored based on their gender or race; no, what concerns me is why did Writer A become an American standard while Writer B is berated for his/her accomplishments. Writer A may break ground in an unexplored writing style, but Writer B appeals to readers; therefore, Writer B must be a lesser writer. I must confess that I prefer a good story and well-developed characters to an explorative new genre full of page-long Faulknerian sentences.

A few days ago, a friend from grad school brought the following Wall Street Journal article to my attention: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203706604574377163804387216.html#articleTabs%3Darticle While I don't agree with all Lev Grossman says about the state of literature, I am inclined to admit that something resonates with me about the "dirty little secret" that is a good story. As an English major in college, and especially in grad school, I've always felt like I should apologize for the books I enjoy. I love curling up with a good book, and more importantly, I relish a good discussion about books, stories, and literature as a whole; but I've never understood why for a book to be "great" it has to be incomprehensible or completely outside the realm of exciting story telling. Grossman seems to harbour the same sentiments that I do concerning the loss of plot. I understand why Modernism rejected the need to adhere to plot, but many still maintained a fine line between plot and story, which illuminate the stark realities of the modern world and abolishing story altogether. These are the ones I am drawn to: their names are Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Cather, just to name a few. They didn't write to entertain, but rather to reflect the world as broken and unfulfilled as they found it. For Modernists writing and by consequence, reading itself, is a social commentary. I like that. I just don't agree that stories no longer have a place in the contemporary literary world.

Grossman writes,

After all, the discipline of the conventional literary novel is a pretty harsh one. To read one is to enter into a kind of depressed economy, where pleasure must be bought with large quantities of work and patience. The Modernists felt little obligation to entertain their readers. That was just the price you paid for your Joycean epiphany. Conversely they have trained us, Pavlovianly, to associate a crisp, dynamic, exciting plot with supermarket fiction, and cheap thrills, and embarrassment. Plot was the coward's way out, for people who can't deal with the real world. If you're having too much fun, you're doing it wrong.

This was the hippocracy I've felt lately as I've read one popular young adult novel after another. I picked up Twilight by Stephanie Meyer while in Germany this past winter. It had its good moments, and its bad, but it was always plot driven. I had to keep reading to find out how it ended. In between Twilight books, because I was sharing them amongst family members who read at different speeds and lived in different countries, I began The Gemma Doyle Trilogy by Libba Bray. I picked these up because the title of the first book, A Great and Terrible Beauty, was stuck in my head. I'm not even sure where I first heard of it, but I had to read it to satisfy my curiosity. I'm sure I have my fellow English grad student colleagues ready to ex-communicate me if they ever read these blogs. Although there are a number of holes in the plots of both series, they are compelling, and something speaks to the reader in a way that is unlike any of the "real," artsy literature produced of late.

It makes me wonder if the way to intice students to read is to give them more access to books like these, which can lead in directions which point directly to the classics. If a student enjoys Twilight, introduce him/her to Dracula and other, older vampire literature. And Bray's Trilogy is ripe with literary allusions, poems, and quotes that should draw a young reader toward more established works with more developed plot. Yet part of me feels guilty, like I should reread Ulysses or pick up a translation of Derrida and deconstruct each book as I go. Part of me doesn't feel sophisticated enough when I read, but deep down, I will always love a good story. It's not a matter of lowering the standard of books, but rather about making them accessible to readers, not a dumbing down, but ridding literature of its pretentiousness and allowing books to once again be judged by the masses.

At the End of the "Rainbow"

I grew up watching Reading Rainbow, and of all the PBS shows I remember it holds one of the fondest places. I wanted to be one of the kids LeVar Burton presented at the end of each episode and review my favorite books. I wanted to go on the field trips: the publishing house, the farm, Hawaii, wherever the story was taking place, and most of all, I wanted the books -- all the books. Most of the time, I couldn't find the Reading Rainbow books I most loved in the local library or bookstore, and so I would wait for the repeats so LeVar could read them to me again.

Today, Reading Rainbow ends its 26-year run, and with it goes the end of an era. According to this article http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=112312561&sc=fb&cc=fp#commentBlock on NPR, funding has been pulled from this influential programs to make way for shows that promote phonetics and spelling, which under the Bush Administration have become the bywords for teaching elementary school students the skills they need to pass the national exams. Schools no longer seem to be the place where students find and pursue their interests; rather, they are test factories where students are prepared for the national skills assessments and teachers and schools receive the pass or fail. How can this encourage students? What investment do they have in their own education if they never face the fact that they must study or else they will fail, thereby losing privileges or perhaps not even passing to the next grade?

Education has lost its thrill and adventure in today's mediocre, anti-competitive school systems. I wasn't a perfect student, and I had my moments where I absolutely abhorred school, but I saw each new lesson as a new adventure. As the second verse of Reading Rainbow's theme song begins, "I can go anywhere," and learning has always given me that thrill. Unfortunately, it seems that education in the United States no longer wishes to encourage the adventure and exploration of books, knowledge, and personal growth through active participation in a great and powerful culture that lurks inside the covers of dusty tomes. NPR presents the following view from the network:

Linda Simensky, vice president for children's programming at PBS, says that when Reading Rainbow was developed in the early 1980s, it was an era when the question was: "How do we get kids to read books?"
Since then, she explains, research has shown that teaching the mechanics of reading should be the network's priority.
"We've been able to identify the earliest steps that we need to take," Simensky says. "Now we know what we need to do first. Even just from five years ago, I think we all know so much more about how to use television to teach."
Research has directed programming toward phonics and reading fundamentals as the front line of the literacy fight. Reading Rainbow occupied a more luxurious space — the show operated on the assumption that kids already had basic reading skills and instead focused on fostering a love of books.

What a shame that the program that so captured my childhood imagination has been relegated to the rubbish pile of "luxury." Has our population changed so greatly in 20 years that we can no longer focus on encouraging the inner bibliophile in each of us and now we have to regress to the most simple levels of education? I remember my grandmother reviewing a few simple phonetic rules with me and instructing me on the sounds that letters make, but for the most part we focused on whole word reading. We read for content, and we read for enjoyment. When I got to kindergarten, I was frustrated that we were still studying phonetics. After our class had "learned" our vowels and the letter "C," I tired to the slow pace. I raised my hand and informed the teacher that we needed to hurry up and get to "W" so we could spell "cow." I also corrected adults' pronunciation and lectured my teachers on the historical significance of Laura Ingles Wilder and Little House on the Prairie. I cannot give Reading Rainbow the entire credit for my precociousness, for I came from a family who highly valued a well-rounded education at home as well as in the classroom, but I know that the correlation between reading at home and what I watched on TV made a pronounced impact on my childhood.

According to Simensky, we no longer can allow children access to that land of luxurious imagination and getting kids to want to read is apparently not an obtainable goal. We must simplify our approach and teach them how to put a word together; every word will be sounded out, every letter will be a point of conscious effort, and reading, while achieved in the ultimate solution, will be a task for most rather than an escape. I don't think that is what Reading Rainbow aspired toward. I believe the initial object of this beloved relic was to show every child how great an adventure reading can be. I used to want to teach, but I'm beginning to think that my efforts would be lost in the politically correct teaching of The Test. I guess we no longer want people to read with enthusiasm and enjoyment; we'll cover the mechanics and pass the test and anything else is superfluous.

But don't take my word for it.