This is an archived page. Images and links on this page may not work. Please visit the main page for the latest updates.

 
 
 
Read my book, TEACHING BEAUTY IN DeLILLO, WOOLF, AND MERRILL (Palgrave Macmillan; forthcoming), co-authored with Jennifer Green-Lewis. VISIT MY BRANCH CAMPUS AT INSIDE HIGHER ED





UD is...
"Salty." (Scott McLemee)
"Unvarnished." (Phi Beta Cons)
"Splendidly splenetic." (Culture Industry)
"Except for University Diaries, most academic blogs are tedious."
(Rate Your Students)
"I think of Soltan as the Maureen Dowd of the blogosphere,
except that Maureen Dowd is kind of a wrecking ball of a writer,
and Soltan isn't. For the life of me, I can't figure out her
politics, but she's pretty fabulous, so who gives a damn?"
(Tenured Radical)

Sunday, August 27, 2006

SOS: Scathing Online Schoolmarm
A Regular University Diaries Feature



An opinion piece from a South Carolina newspaper:


"The task of the modern educator," wrote C.S. Lewis more than half a century ago, "is not to cut down jungles, but to irrigate deserts." [Warning light: Lewis is a very condescending writer. I've never been able to stand his simplistic, hectoring style. I know, I know -- a lot of wonderful, smart people love him. And he's written some wonderful stuff. But when I read his essays on Christianity, for instance, I really feel talked down to. And this quotation from him is typical of his elliptical, rather silly style: Isn't the task of education to do both? To brush away destructive overgrowth and to put something sustaining in its place?] The Oxford don [This is supposed to impress us, and I suppose it does. But the writer of this piece should also disclose that Lewis was often writing in defense of a specifically Christian world view.] suggests by this statement that the college classroom is at its best when it is a place where unformed minds confront a lofty standard, in the hope that students will rise and follow the exalted example. At its worst, college educators enter the academic arena determined to "cut down jungles" of prejudice and replace them with their own beliefs.

The Clemson committee selection of the book "Truth and Beauty" by Ann Patchett shows education at its "cutting down jungles" worst.

For those who haven't read the book, the Amazon.com summary provides a glimpse into its purpose. "This memoir of (Ann) Patchett's friendship with ... Lucy Grealy shows many insights into the nature of devotion ... moving from the unfolding of their deep connection in graduate school into the more turbulent waters beyond." Patchett describes their attempts to be writers, while Grealy endures continuous rounds of operations as a result of cancer, as well as "heartbreak and drug use."

The moral theme of friendship in the book is lost in mind-numbing descriptions of reckless sexual liaisons, affairs with married men and students, financial irresponsibility and abortion. In the words of a local pastor in his letter to President James Barker, "Lucy eventually pays the price ... not for these mistakes, but for her false sense of invincibility. Little is done to dissipate the moral fog, even by the book's end." [The reader's suspicion that this opinion piece is about Christian morality rather than education in itself is now heightened.]

This is where the selection committee failed the incoming freshmen at Clemson by making this universally assigned reading. They did not consider that, in the words of John Gardner in his book "On Moral Fiction," "art is essentially and primarily moral -- that is, life-giving -- in its process of creation and moral in what it says." In the end, Patchett's book doesn't succeed for the same reason her friend didn't survive: because she has no moral standard to offer to pull her back from the brink. [This may be true; but even if it is, this writer has given us no reason not to be interested in this failure, to find it enlightening.]

At one point Ann Patchett says to Lucy, "I'm not going to try to solve your problems, I just want to make you happy." The author's work is supposed to be about love, but it reads more like manipulation and dependency. Ann leaves her friend in a self-destructive lifestyle [Never use the word "lifestyle." Drop "style" to get to the word you mean.], which ends in death [All lives do.]. She violates one of the sacred responsibilities of what college students call a "relationship" [Why "what college students call"?]: the obligation to help.

Cicero said in 44 B.C. that "friendship lightens adversity by dividing and sharing it." The Bible says in the book of Proverbs, "faithful are the wounds of a friend." Both understand that friendship involves uncomfortable commitments to confront and intervene.

Whenever possible, good literature should do the same thing. Good art should hold up models of decent behavior in contrast to destructive ones. [Yikes. That would be no fun at all. And what does "whenever possible" mean??] One need only think of the lasting literary works: "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey," the tragedies of Aeschylus and Sophocles; Virgil's "Aenid," the plays of Shakespeare; the novels of Tolstoy and Melville. These works have a civilizing effect century after century, long after he cultures that produced them have decayed. [Talk about a selective list. And Melville doesn't belong on it.]

Characters in good fiction -- who struggle against confusion, error and evil both in themselves and in others -- can offer us firm intellectual and emotional examples in our own struggles. Scout's defense of Atticus, and her recognition of Mr. Cunningham at the jailhouse door, in the book and movie "To Kill a Mockingbird" may have done more to dissipate racial prejudice in the South than a dozen laws. Storytelling has great power in a culture, and that is why we must be careful which ones we endorse. [I wondered when the twentieth century would rear its head. Note that the choice is a high school favorite because of its heavy-handed morality and undemanding style.]

Compare the freshman reading at Clemson with that at the University of South Carolina. The book being read in Columbia is by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Tracy Kidder, and is titled "Mountains Beyond Mountains." Again, the Amazon.com description tells you all you need to know. "The title ... is a metaphor for life -- once you have scaled one mountain there are more to come ... this is especially true for Paul Farmer, MD, who has devoted his life to what he calls the 'impossible' task of trying to cure infectious diseases worldwide." At the center of the book is a doctor who is selfless in solving one problem after another, far different from Lucy's self-absorption. [If college literature courses do anything, they inculcate a loathing for Climb Every Mountain moral uplift metaphors.]

Clemson University is justifiably proud of its new ranking as a top 30 public university, and of its more than 100 new faculty members. But in the selection of its freshman reading project, Clemson is a poor second to USC. The former adopted the "cut down" approach to education, while the latter chose to "irrigate" the minds of its incoming students.



I have my own problems, by the way, with Clemson's choice. But moralistic and simplistic literary criticism ain't the way to go.

Labels: