Y'know, it's funny. I read this thread and found myself nodding repeatedly because I've had the same thoughts.
I'm a compulsive reader. I don't so much read books as devour them, and have from a very young age. Summer reading programs were the best thing for me because, dude, they give you REWARDS for reading stuff. That's like giving you candy for eating cake, from my perspective.
In college, however, I had a need of a fill in course. I picked a literature class because, y'know, it'd be stuff I'd be interested in.
The readings were some of the most horrifically boring pieces I've ever read, and writing reports on them was worse. Then, heaven preserve me, we got to the chapter dedicated to the concept of poetry. Two WEEKS of nothing but poems. While my teacher wasn't necessarily as stringent on what a right answer consisted of, I was so bored that I'd fall asleep in class, read the material later, and still pass with As because I knew the answers they wanted. I didn't have to think hard, or even in unusual ways. The rut was there and all I had to do was follow it.
This summer, coworkers at the bookstore I work at started a book club. The first book chosen was "The Quickie", by some random prolific author I forget the name of. Something Anderson. Anyway, it was horrific, cliche', and so bad that I felt the need to MST it as I read it. And I said as much at the next meeting. And then sent the entire group into gales of laughter over the line(I kid you not) "knocked her up like a stud bull". We discussed it, gave our opinions, and enjoyed ourselves.
I think I'd learn more about literature in that book club than I ever did in any literature class, because there's no pressure of finding some baseline to judge grades by. When discussing literature, the points shouldn't be determined by whether your opinion is right but by the level of thought and effort you put into coming to those opinions.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
I'm a compulsive reader. I don't so much read books as devour them, and have from a very young age. Summer reading programs were the best thing for me because, dude, they give you REWARDS for reading stuff. That's like giving you candy for eating cake, from my perspective.
In college, however, I had a need of a fill in course. I picked a literature class because, y'know, it'd be stuff I'd be interested in.
The readings were some of the most horrifically boring pieces I've ever read, and writing reports on them was worse. Then, heaven preserve me, we got to the chapter dedicated to the concept of poetry. Two WEEKS of nothing but poems. While my teacher wasn't necessarily as stringent on what a right answer consisted of, I was so bored that I'd fall asleep in class, read the material later, and still pass with As because I knew the answers they wanted. I didn't have to think hard, or even in unusual ways. The rut was there and all I had to do was follow it.
This summer, coworkers at the bookstore I work at started a book club. The first book chosen was "The Quickie", by some random prolific author I forget the name of. Something Anderson. Anyway, it was horrific, cliche', and so bad that I felt the need to MST it as I read it. And I said as much at the next meeting. And then sent the entire group into gales of laughter over the line(I kid you not) "knocked her up like a stud bull". We discussed it, gave our opinions, and enjoyed ourselves.
I think I'd learn more about literature in that book club than I ever did in any literature class, because there's no pressure of finding some baseline to judge grades by. When discussing literature, the points shouldn't be determined by whether your opinion is right but by the level of thought and effort you put into coming to those opinions.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."