I Will Never Assign A Class Novel: An Educator’s Pledge

Brad Decker
4 min readOct 5, 2015

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This book is probably great, but I would never know it. Image: http://goo.gl/XfZNcU

I’m going to start this article by explaining something about myself: I am presently just months away from being a single-subject certified English and Language Arts teacher, and I hate The Great Gatsby. When people ask me what my favorite book is, I have a hard time answering, because I’ve always been an avid reader, and the list can get long, fast. But when people ask me what my least favorite book is, I can always answer right away that I have nothing positive to say about The Great Gatsby.

This somewhat extreme reaction, however, is not rooted in any logical review of the book itself. I acknowledge that Fitzgerald’s tightly wound and deeply poetic prose weaves a timeless tale about the folly of the American dream, the pitfalls of 1920's culture, and the madness that can be borne out of regret. I get that. I cannot argue that point.

The reaction I have isn’t even rooted in my experience of being taught the book over the course of several weeks in my 11th grade English class. I remember my teacher at the time asking us to answer complex, interesting questions about the language and themes in the book. I remember feeling engaged and challenged. I remember watching the old Robert Redford film and comparing it to the text. Honestly speaking, looking back, it was a pretty good unit.

The movie has its own quaint charms, and also Robert Redford. Image: https://goo.gl/QOEiu5

Given all of that, then, what could possibly make me, an educator who is focused on bringing literature to his students, hold such a grudge against a novel that, by all counts, should be one of my favorites? I’ve done a bit of self-examining, and in my study come across a possible explanation.

I believe that the reason I resent The Great Gatsby is simply the fact that it was taught in the first place. I never engaged fully with the text, never felt that there were relevant or personal meanings within its story, and never found the characters or their actions to be compelling. The setting was a time and a place not entirely outside my realm of understanding, and therefore one that I never found particularly interesting. And, perhaps worst of all, I found Nick, our narrator, to be a poor substitute for an actual literary hero (this was Gatsby’s story! Why are we inside the head of his lame friend?).

Am I glad I have the cultural capital to even complain about Gatsby in the first place? Absolutely. That said, perhaps my 16-year-old self would have benefitted from the option to pick a novel- any novel- of my choice to give the same amount of time and attention that Gatsby got by default. As long as the novel I chose was appropriately challenging- either in terms of content or use of language- could it not have served the same purpose? Could I not have searched for themes in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy? Could I not have sought out poetic language and foreshadowing in A Game of Thrones? Could I not have pulled apart the characterization of the rabbits in Watership Down?

You start out thinking it’s just a cute story about bunnies, but it’s actually about the harsh, delicate nature of life. Image: http://goo.gl/9lKOFW

Obviously students need a base set of texts upon which to compare and contrast the readings they choose on their own. When I say I won’t assign a class novel, I may actually mean that I’ll assign one, very brief, class reading that is rich enough to use throughout the year as a common text. And, of course, in order to ensure that students are reading at a level appropriate to their ability and grade expectations, I’ll make an effort to provide short in-class passages that illustrate the concepts laid down in the standards. Outside of that, however, the bulk of student reading will be self-determined.

At 16, I didn’t want to be told what to read, and I certainly didn’t want to be told to read a book about upper-class 1920's New Yorkers who never have to fight a single dragon (not one!). An effective educator can invent universally applicable lessons that will enhance the reading of any novel, and allow students to find their own reasons for choosing materials. It is tempting, of course, to encourage students to read from a set canon, to expose them to the highest quality literature that has ever been produced, but that temptation ignores that most students are not concerned with traditionally held markers of quality.

As educators, we must ask ourselves what is more important- that students constantly read, learn to love reading, and are able to form informed, critical opinions about what they read- or that they read certain novels?

Actually, in the case of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, it’s probably the latter. Image: http://goo.gl/LS2y0l

What do you think- can an English class function without class novels? What strategies and lesson formats do you use to grant students greater content-related agency? How do you guide students towards texts that are both challenging and relevant? Do you believe in the canon?

I write to engage the educational community in conversation, and to form my own thoughts and pedagogies. I’d appreciate a response! And, if you find this article compelling-one way or the other- consider hitting that recommend button to get the conversation going with other educators!

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Brad Decker

Teaching, Traveling, Writing. MA in Film Studies, MA in Teaching and English Literature. Owner and Editor at Panel & Frame and The Synapse.