Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "reading"
Don't Restrict Our Kids' Reading
It's been a fraught weekend for British politics. As well as the repulsive right wing protest party UKIP cleaning up in the European elections, our Secretary for Education Michael Gove has decreed that the literature syllabus is "not English enough." With this in mind, stalwarts such as To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men (which Gove personally dislikes), The Color Purple and The Crucible are being banished from our children's reading list.
There are no words for what a monstrous imposition this is. Without these works, we're left with a hopelessly one sided curriculum bearing no relation to most kids' lives. I love Shakespeare, but the flat and uninspiring way it's taught in schools means many come away with the impression it's "boring". The satire of Austen still sparkles, but what window to the outside world does it provide?
By eliminating modern American books, they're
also getting rid of strong female characters, people of colour and thorny issues they can get their teeth into. We mustn't forget that in some cases, the books they study at school are the only books they will read. Can you blame them for not engaging with fiction when there's nothing for them to identify with?
Don't restrict our kids' reading, Mr Gove. They deserve better than that.
There are no words for what a monstrous imposition this is. Without these works, we're left with a hopelessly one sided curriculum bearing no relation to most kids' lives. I love Shakespeare, but the flat and uninspiring way it's taught in schools means many come away with the impression it's "boring". The satire of Austen still sparkles, but what window to the outside world does it provide?
By eliminating modern American books, they're
also getting rid of strong female characters, people of colour and thorny issues they can get their teeth into. We mustn't forget that in some cases, the books they study at school are the only books they will read. Can you blame them for not engaging with fiction when there's nothing for them to identify with?
Don't restrict our kids' reading, Mr Gove. They deserve better than that.
Published on May 26, 2014 02:03
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Tags:
literature, reading, school-curriculum
The Bookworm Meme
I'll be honest with you, I've never cared for memes. Every time one dollops onto my Facebook page, I heave a tremendous sigh and think, "Again?" Before I know it, I'm concocting a supervillain's name from the name of my first cat and the last place I had a hangover. Memes are compulsive!
So I thought I'd invent my own. The rules are simple: 10 personal facts to do with your reading habits. They can be funny, serious or plain weird - all that matters is they're true.
1) The first "rude" book I remember reading was The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, where our hero spends an inordinate amount of time measuring his 'thing'. Me and my mate Bart got told off for reading it - so why was it in the school library?
2) I firmly believe that your favourite Wind in the Willow character is very revealing - and I was startled to see this appear word for word in Upstairs at the Party. For the record, I'm a Ratty.
3) Although I don't rule long books out altogether, anything over the 300 page mark's a bit of a slog.
4) The three books that have had the greatest impact on me are To Kill a Mockingbird, Brighton Rock and The Handmaid's Tale. They all have their flaws but have touched me like nothing else.
5) I cried most over the ending of Watership Down. As for film adaptations, I wept buckets over The Thorn Birds. There goes my street cred!
6) Rereading is a compliment; choose your rereads carefully. I return to I Capture the Castle once a year; it's never disappointed me.
7) I will never trust someone who doesn't like Paddington. I love Tintin but can see why others might not be enthusiastic - but dissing fiction's most famous dufflecoat wearer is beyond the pale.
8) My first fictional crush was Jo March. I never forgave her for spurning Laurie and choosing creepy old Professor Bhaer instead.
9) The phrase is comic, not graphic novel. Even though I'm an Alan Moore fan.
10) The character I'd most like to bitchslap is Holden Caulfield. Sorry to his fans.
Now it's your turn!
So I thought I'd invent my own. The rules are simple: 10 personal facts to do with your reading habits. They can be funny, serious or plain weird - all that matters is they're true.
1) The first "rude" book I remember reading was The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, where our hero spends an inordinate amount of time measuring his 'thing'. Me and my mate Bart got told off for reading it - so why was it in the school library?
2) I firmly believe that your favourite Wind in the Willow character is very revealing - and I was startled to see this appear word for word in Upstairs at the Party. For the record, I'm a Ratty.
3) Although I don't rule long books out altogether, anything over the 300 page mark's a bit of a slog.
4) The three books that have had the greatest impact on me are To Kill a Mockingbird, Brighton Rock and The Handmaid's Tale. They all have their flaws but have touched me like nothing else.
5) I cried most over the ending of Watership Down. As for film adaptations, I wept buckets over The Thorn Birds. There goes my street cred!
6) Rereading is a compliment; choose your rereads carefully. I return to I Capture the Castle once a year; it's never disappointed me.
7) I will never trust someone who doesn't like Paddington. I love Tintin but can see why others might not be enthusiastic - but dissing fiction's most famous dufflecoat wearer is beyond the pale.
8) My first fictional crush was Jo March. I never forgave her for spurning Laurie and choosing creepy old Professor Bhaer instead.
9) The phrase is comic, not graphic novel. Even though I'm an Alan Moore fan.
10) The character I'd most like to bitchslap is Holden Caulfield. Sorry to his fans.
Now it's your turn!
DNF: Why There's No Shame in Discarding Books
We all have guilty pleasures when it comes to reading. Some devour 17th century bonkbusters set on pirate ships; others love old school sci fi with laser guns and talking lizards. For me it has always been bargain basement World's Greatest Mysteries books. Big Foot, flying saucers, the Bermuda Triangle, Lord Lucan - I can't get enough. And as any true mystery nut would testify, the granddaddy of enigmas is Jack the Ripper.
When I heard there was a new Ripper book that "debunked" the myth, I had to borrow it. I wondered who the candidate would be. Dr Gull, the bookies' favourite? James Maybrick, purported author of The Diary of Jack the Ripper? Walter Sickert, a wildcard theory that has gathered momentum in recent years? Or some rank outsider pulled out of a hat?
I will never know. A mere thirty seven pages in - possibly a record - I dumped it. I wanted a well researched, convincingly argued case. What I'd got was a paranoid polemic about the Victorians, chalking everything up to a shadowy Masonic conspiracy. It pinballed from the Cleveland Street sex scandal to doomed military campaigns, leading me to exclaim, frustrated, "What does this have to do with anything?!" It was like listening to the ravings of a ballroom dancing devil worshipper. (True story - I'll share it sometime).
What I'm trying to demonstrate, albeit in long winded fashion, is there is no shame in discarding books. Thanks to attitudes instilled at school - you must read this in order to pass your exams, you have to write it up in your Reading Diary etc.- people acquire the notion that dumping a book is somehow ignoble and dishonest. The sense of guilt continues into adulthood, changing slightly. You ought to read a certain novel to seem up to date/educated/participate in the latest debate. It's why we have all these Big Reads and book bucket lists. "You haven't read the complete works of F Scott Fitzgerald? What's wrong with you?"
What these busybodies tend to overlook is that books = time. Time is a luxury many people can ill afford, meaning the majority of reading is done at the weekends or on holiday. If you're settling down at the pool side, what will you reach for? The new Gillian Flynn or Gatsby? Thought as much.
In the old days, you felt a terrible obligation to finish books because they cost money, or - worst case scenario - they had been given as presents. If a relative handed you a book you'll "absolutely love", you couldn't say, "That's pants and it's going straight down the charity shop." You smiled and forced yourself to read it. "It's great!" you'd cry hysterically when asked, wondering how long you'd have to keep up this charade.
Now we have more choice than ever before. Your reading material isn't limited to gifts or your local library, so why not spread your wings? There isn't a recording angel knocking points off your score card if you ditch the latest bestseller one chapter in.
Is the plot dull and predictable? Dump it. Is the main character an implausible Mary Sue? Are you offended by the author's worldview? Dump it. Is the writing so bad it makes the language weep? You get the message.
Life is too short to trudge through a book you're not enjoying. There's no point in being a martyr - this is your precious leisure time that you'll never get back. The instant a book begins to smell, do the honourable thing.
When I heard there was a new Ripper book that "debunked" the myth, I had to borrow it. I wondered who the candidate would be. Dr Gull, the bookies' favourite? James Maybrick, purported author of The Diary of Jack the Ripper? Walter Sickert, a wildcard theory that has gathered momentum in recent years? Or some rank outsider pulled out of a hat?
I will never know. A mere thirty seven pages in - possibly a record - I dumped it. I wanted a well researched, convincingly argued case. What I'd got was a paranoid polemic about the Victorians, chalking everything up to a shadowy Masonic conspiracy. It pinballed from the Cleveland Street sex scandal to doomed military campaigns, leading me to exclaim, frustrated, "What does this have to do with anything?!" It was like listening to the ravings of a ballroom dancing devil worshipper. (True story - I'll share it sometime).
What I'm trying to demonstrate, albeit in long winded fashion, is there is no shame in discarding books. Thanks to attitudes instilled at school - you must read this in order to pass your exams, you have to write it up in your Reading Diary etc.- people acquire the notion that dumping a book is somehow ignoble and dishonest. The sense of guilt continues into adulthood, changing slightly. You ought to read a certain novel to seem up to date/educated/participate in the latest debate. It's why we have all these Big Reads and book bucket lists. "You haven't read the complete works of F Scott Fitzgerald? What's wrong with you?"
What these busybodies tend to overlook is that books = time. Time is a luxury many people can ill afford, meaning the majority of reading is done at the weekends or on holiday. If you're settling down at the pool side, what will you reach for? The new Gillian Flynn or Gatsby? Thought as much.
In the old days, you felt a terrible obligation to finish books because they cost money, or - worst case scenario - they had been given as presents. If a relative handed you a book you'll "absolutely love", you couldn't say, "That's pants and it's going straight down the charity shop." You smiled and forced yourself to read it. "It's great!" you'd cry hysterically when asked, wondering how long you'd have to keep up this charade.
Now we have more choice than ever before. Your reading material isn't limited to gifts or your local library, so why not spread your wings? There isn't a recording angel knocking points off your score card if you ditch the latest bestseller one chapter in.
Is the plot dull and predictable? Dump it. Is the main character an implausible Mary Sue? Are you offended by the author's worldview? Dump it. Is the writing so bad it makes the language weep? You get the message.
Life is too short to trudge through a book you're not enjoying. There's no point in being a martyr - this is your precious leisure time that you'll never get back. The instant a book begins to smell, do the honourable thing.