Henderson’s manifesto & your last English assignment!

While it is easy to become consumed in the more immediate goals of this class (get a good grade, pass the AP exam, GRADUATE!) my most pressing goals for you are these: 1) read your world constantly, carefully, and critically; 2) nurture your aesthetic sensibilities every day, for the rest of your lives; and 3) sustain the ideas that spring from goals 1 and 2 strongly enough and clearly enough to write about them.

Contrary to popular belief, the content covered in English class is NOT inaccessible, archaic, or trivial – so long as it isn’t really about the content! The literature we study in a stuffy classroom, if used as directed (always read the instructions on the bottle), should simply serve as a medium for honing some of the most important skills you will take with you through life. The benefits of these skills include but certainly are not limited to: - sniffing out propaganda and inferring its true intent - making sure your cell phone company isn’t taking you for a ride - appreciating a movie in the context of its genre and “social energies” (a term that drives Harold Bloom crazy) - being moved to tears – and not being afraid to admit it – by something deeper and richer than a Hallmark card - attaining a level of humility that keeps the door open for new learning and paradigm shifts (arrogance closes doors) - being less afraid of what is unknowable or beyond your control - giggling at all the implied phalluses in literature - developing empathy by becoming emotionally invested in experiences drastically different from your own - improving important relationships in your life by communicating openly, constantly, and with an ever-growing and changing appreciation for the words of others - engaging as a true citizen of your nation and of the world - laughing at LOL-cats (Oh wait – that’s just me. But after a lifetime of learning, perhaps we can arrive at an answer to the all-consuming question, “I can has cheezburgr?”)

 Something I find distressing is what I like to call intellectual consumerism: the dangerous practice of applying that dispassionate, “do-for-me” attitude that we adopt when shopping to our more academic pursuits. When we approach our learning this way, we want to be entertained (as if Dickens were just a slower-paced “Call of Duty” game) or instructed (as if Darwin were a long-winded Ikea instruction manual – with words, instead of those weird androgynous cartoon-people). We say things like, “I found it interesting that the author…” or “Is he really trying to tell us that we should…?” We keep our learning at arm’s length and never let ourselves get too distraught by what we find on the page. Anything that doesn’t align (or at least tangentially relate to) our worldview is dismissed. We cozy up to the techniques the author employs as a way to anesthetize ourselves to the fact that we might recognize something ugly or inexplicable in ourselves. [Here, the hyperbolic nature of Ellison’s “Battle Royale” comes to mind. Since it doesn’t achieve verisimilitude, we discard it from our stockpile of Truths. Instead, we focus on the imagery and the hyperbole, and coolly consider the implied social commentary, always keeping it in a historical context that feels far removed from us. But the privileged position of the spectators in that scene harkens back to a true gladiatorial or a present-day reality TV show. When something that is constant and deplorable in the human condition pops up like a Whack-a-Mole, we bat it down with a foam hammer and comfort ourselves with a flimsy notion of progress. (And I say this with the full knowledge that clinging to literary techniques and critiques is a favorite habit of mine.)]

But think back to the most profound learning experiences in your life: what did you learn, how did you recognize that moment of enlightenment, and how did you feel? I’ll bet there were some moments of true, beautiful epiphany, where it felt like brilliant rays of sunshine pierced the dark awning of the clouds just for you. And I’ll bet there were moments of true distress and desperation, where the panic was all the more potent because there was something profound behind it, and you found yourself asking, “Oh my God, is this really how the world works?” As an English teacher, it would be awesome for me to hear that a book or poem somehow figured its way into one of these moments. It probably hasn’t, and that’s okay. But, as sure as the sun is coming up tomorrow or Mayan calendars were filled with typos, there WAS a text involved in that moment of true, authentic learning. That text may have been: - the Bible, the Torah, the Koran, the Vedas, etc. - a news report on something entirely new to you - the ending to a RomCom that made you want to throw up (but deep down made you a little envious and wistful) - a song that made you long for your childhood (Journey, here’s looking at you) - an argument you witnessed or had the misfortune to partake in - a betrayal by a trusted friend - getting cut from the travel team - a billboard that made you anxious about how you look - the first moment you realized adults were as clueless as kids - a death, a birth, a graduation, an achievement by you or a loved one - a mistake you made - a dream that seemed to have an answer in it - the fateful decision to have a Taco Bell-eating contest with your buddies

“…But wait,” you say, “a billboard or an act of betrayal isn’t a text.” Sure it is! As the passages that follow will explain further, a text is dependent on you for apprehension and meaning. The world is a text, and the world is waiting for you to construct meaning out of it. (“But doesn’t that make all texts arbitrary?” One, stop asking questions. And two, yes, it just might, that doesn’t reduce the significance of the text, now does it?) So here is my biggest chunk of advice and most far-sighted goal for you. I know it’s not achievable on a daily basis, and you and I will, by necessity, often be subsumed by the act of breaking down archetypes, allegories, Marxist criticism, etc. But if you can keep this nugget tucked away somewhere in your brain, I think you’ll be the better for it:

BE A LIFELONG STUDENT OF YOUR WORLD. TO TRULY LEARN, YOU MUST ROLL UP YOUR SLEEVES, DIG IN, AND ALLOW YOUR WORLD TO BE BOTH UGLY AND BEAUTIFUL. DISTANCE IS NOT YOUR FRIEND.

Okay, that’s enough from me. Now on to the assignment… AP Literature Term Paper

Objective Using the following passages from Foucault, Barthes, and others as your basis, you will write an essay that synthesizes information from several texts in order to articulate a Truth about the human condition.

Prompt and Procedure Read the following passages dealing with the nature of the author, the text, and the audience. Then as Barthes suggests, “disentangle” several texts to find a common thread running through all of them. What universal message pervades, structures, and informs all of these texts? While your essay will contain specific analysis of your selected texts, it will not simply stop at analysis. Your ultimate goal is to show how your selected pieces contribute to what Foster calls “one story”.

Requirements Your essay will analyze at least three texts. The texts must fit into the three categories outlined below. You may go beyond the minimum of three, especially if you wish to incorporate more literary works into your argument.

CATEGORY 1: Literature studied this year

CATEGORY 2: Essays, historical documents, or contemporary reports

CATEGORY 3: Cultural “texts” (includes pop culture)

We will adhere to MLA guidelines for this assignment.

There is a 10-page minimum for this assignment.