It's not that I haven't tried diving into the classics; in high school and college, I read Shakespeare, Steinbeck, Hemingway, Dickens, Eliot, and many more. Maybe that's the problem.
I think high school and college courses, while designed to promote an appreciative study of literature have often done more harm than good by sapping any desire to ever again read these works for pleasure (or anything close to it). In my required college courses, for example, I was forced to read and write about Beowulf, Canterbury Tales, and Paradise Lost, among other horrors (I'm shuddering as I recall these texts, courses, and instructors...), and discovered through that pursuit that I can't abide medieval literature (nor can I make heads or tails of Middle English).
When it comes time to reach for a book, I most often choose biographies, self-help, and contemporary fiction. I read as many torturous, challenging books as I ever needed to read in school; now I want to read for enjoyment, escape, and a personal quest for knowledge.
I've recently set myself a new goal, however, of retrying the classics and exploring some of the most highly-lauded American writers to see if I can figure out what the fuss is about.
I started my experiment with what many consider the great American novel, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Although I read this many years ago (as a teen or college student), my retention of it was minimal. As extra motivation, I had the 2013 Baz Luhrmann film version on my DVR, which I planned to watch as soon as I finished reading. Anyway, the novel itself is a slim page-turner with an iconic larger-than-life protagonist that I enjoyed, so it was a good first choice for my personal foray into classic American lit.
My second choice was The Catcher in the Rye, which was one of my favorites as an angsty teen. I loved the protagonist/narrator Holden Caulfield, hater of phonies and hero to disaffected outcasts everywhere, as well as the book's slangy conversational style.
What surprised me upon reading it for the first time as an adult is how much I disliked Holden, who comes off to me now as a self-involved bastard rather than a relatable guy. (Gasp!) I think part of the change in my feelings, besides increased maturity and life experience, is that I can now look at him more objectively, which allows me to see him as the novel's other characters see him instead of focusing on how he sees them (as phonies, mostly). And what they see, based on my adult reading perspective, is someone who is emotionally unstable, isolated, lonely but desperate to connect with others (asking several strangers to share a drink or meal with him), untruthful, and, in some ways, more "phony" than the "phonies" surrounding him.
I can't help but also evaluate Catcher in light of its troubling history as a personal handbook for assassins, including John Lennon's killer, who saw himself as Holden Caulfield (or saw Holden as him). I don't think I knew any of that when I first read it in high school, but now that I know, I feel disturbed thinking about violent men identifying with this book, which was once my favorite, and its main character.
Anyway, I went on to read and enjoy the rest of J.D. Salinger's short stories and novellas, many of which contain Holden-like characters (both male and female) and situations. In this way, I'm slowly filling in the gaps of my knowledge of classic American and world literature. There are still many more to go...Joyce, Faulkner (I don't think I made it through the first chapter of The Sound and the Fury on my previous attempt), Tolstoy, Woolf, Oates, and many others, including several great poets and playwrights.
Stephen King, Jodi Picoult, Barbara Kingsolver, and celebrity memoirists will have to step aside (temporarily, of course) while I give the old classics a new spin.
No comments:
Post a Comment