Tell ILB about your favourite literature teacher

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Did you have one? What made them good?

Back in 1984, Mrs Dodson was a godsend to the wee Nipper. She set 'Billy Liar' and 'A Taste as Honey' as set-texts, almost as though she might have been a closet Smiths fan herself. She was mordantly sardonic. And, of course, she was tremendously encouraging to the ickle JtN.

Then in 1986: Mike West. He HAD actually written a book about the Smiths (The Smiths in Quotes, Todmorden Press) I think he'd written one about Siouxsie, too! A tremendously funny, sad man who faced an uphill struggle teaching 'Joseph Andrews' to catering students. He used to have to hold up a piece of paper saying IRONY when he started telling jokes, because certain students thought the stuff about exploding cucumbers really was in Chaucer. He once made me a tape of Lou Reed's 'Legendary Hearts'. Watching his melancholy grow, I realised I never wanted to teach literature myself - it would be too disheartening.

Nowadays, my favourite literature teacher is The Pinefox.

― Jerry the Nipper (Jerrynipper), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 14:11 (twenty-two years ago)

Mrs Nelson was her name. Mid-eighties Essex comprehensive wasn't the common place to wear earrings with CND hoops in them, but she did anyway.

The trouble makers in the class (and there were many) tried to disrupt her lessons. She just told them not to come anymore. So they didn't. Not sure she was allowed to do that, mind.

She expressed enthusiasm with fast, sweeping arm movements. If Don Quixote was around in Essex rather than 16th century Spain, he would have attacked her.

She showered me with books and I never looked back. Those kids who she chucked out of class are now my bosses, of course, but she taught me the value of irony to compensate.

― Mikey G (Mikey G), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 14:25 (twenty-two years ago)

Mr. Grobe. (9th Grade A.P. English.) Appeared totally straight-laced but you know he dropped acid back in the 70's.

We were told to read Of Mice and Men. We discussed the book in class and then Mr. Grobe wheeled a t.v. and brought a boombox into the room. He popped in the Gary Senise and John Malcovitch Of Mice and Men movie and fast-forwarded to the part where George kills Lenny. Then he turned off the volume and popped Simon & Garfunkle's "I Am a Rock" into the boombox. He played the movie (on mute) with only the music. He must have practiced the set-up and timing for ages because George killed Lenny right at "And a rock feels no pain... And an island never cries..."

Then the bell rang. Every single girl left class crying that day.

It was far out. Yeah, Mr. Grobe was cool.

― Vermont Girl (Vermont Girl), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 14:51 (twenty-two years ago)

My professor for my Ulysses class. I am ashamed to say I don't remember his name, but it was a very large lecture class. The whole semester was devoted to reading Ulysses, and he made it a treat. I feel everyone should have the opportunity to have oh-whasshisname teach them to appreciate James Joyce. It certainly helped me.

― Jessa (Jessa), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 15:51 (twenty-two years ago)

Mrs. Page, AP English (12th grade). She made us read, read, read... The Sound and the Fury (I still remember we had to write an essay describing the concept of time for this one), Donne's metaphysical poetry, a spicy poem by Lawrence ("The Snake?"), lotsa Dickinson and Whitman, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, tons of Joseph Campbell and Jung, Wuthering Heights (I led the anti-Heathcliff brigades here, I couldn't stand the man)...

The class was very small (about 10-15) and we arranged our desks in a circle. She always pushed a discussion to the limit, never let us stop thinking, even when the topic seemed "closed." From her I learned that when a character crosses a bridge, it's much more than a physical action. She made us look for all kinds of connections: literature and music, literature and painting... She took us to museums and to the opera (this was in suburban Maryland, near D.C.'s Kennedy Center). And she never let us miss a deadline for handing in an assignment. I learned both mind-bending flexibility and the self-motivation/discipline I needed to complete by graduate thesis.

I lost track of her after high school, but I've always secretly dedicated both my B.A. and PhD degrees in Literature to her; she knew I was off to study Lit., and I wish I could have gone back to tell her "I made it, and you were my inspiration."

― marisa (marisa), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 16:20 (twenty-two years ago)

Hugh Ryan. He didn't really teach me about literature, but he taught me that there was at least one person in the world who respected me because I could and did read. I never had to hand in homework because I knew who PG Wodehouse was (believe it or not, there was only one other person in my English class in school who had even heard of him, never mind read any), and I never had to read any Dickens because I promised to read the modern novels on the course instead and he believed me. He talked to me like I was an adult when I was only sixteen, and made private jokes in class that he knew only I would appreciate. I too decided I could never teach English when I saw what it did to him. I always felt kind of sorry for him.

― accentmonkey (accentmonkey), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 16:37 (twenty-two years ago)

I have been exceptionally fortunate to be part of many lit instructor's classes...

The first one was Mrs. Briggs in my Iowa middle school. I was two reading levels below my grade when I first entered 6th grade...by the time she had finished working with me (and just basically being one of few stable adults in my life), I was reading two levels ahead of my age group! She was the one that gave me my first copy of "The Good Earth." Mrs. Briggs taught me that the world I inhabited went beyond the boundries of my small midwest town. I'm not ashamed to say I love her as much as I love my grandmother.

The second massive influence was Mrs. King at my Florida high school. The woman was fearless, which I suppose you have to be with a bunch of teens hopped up on hormones, but bloody brilliant too. She had us dive into Shakespeare, separating the mushheads from the lit lovers in that AP English class. It was damn fine and I've loved old English verse ever since then... Plus, she gave us a start to an enormous vocabulary repository, that when used in creative cursing can blow the hair off a cat a block away.

The third huge influence was Ms. Trudell in college. She pushed me out of my comfort zone of "old" literary canon (Shakespeare, Dickens, Bronte, Alcott) and opened up ethnic & world literature to me. Again, showing me how completely open the world was to me.

― yesabibliophile (yesabibliophile), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 18:45 (twenty-two years ago)

maybe i'm just hormonal or it's the sappy music i'm listening to, but yesabibliophile's post brought a tear to my eye.

― Vermont Girl (Vermont Girl), Wednesday, 24 March 2004 18:50 (twenty-two years ago)

I can't believe this, but I've forgotten her name! She was my ninth grade English teacher, for AP English. She dragged us through "Les Miserables" in the fall of 1979- 25 Texas teens who had been told all our lives how smart we were were finally a little challenged and it did not go well with some. Others of us thrived. I remember her reading great swathes of the book aloud to us, her Texas accent (I now realize) butchering much of the French vocabulary, but done with such passion we never noticed anything amiss. She had Farah hair that was teased and frosted to a fare-thee-well and I've just remembered her surname was Abercrombie. She taught me how to read for more than just the plot. I remain grateful.

― Rabin the Cat (Rabin the Cat), Thursday, 25 March 2004 05:51 (twenty-two years ago)

Miss Turner! Hard-as-nails slums-o'-Bournemouth Oxford-double-first mega-brainbox, teachin' an absurd bunch of posh kids and takin' names. I miss her so much - she had written for the NME in college and she was the youngest teacher I'd ever had by decades. And there was encouragement: she said she used to show my school-paper music pages (Travis bad! Robbie good! Repeat...) to her mates in the pub (looking back, I'm sure with amused but fond contempt), and said I should write for Shoreditch Twat, and apply to Wadham, which, one out of two.

We did Restoration Comedy with her, which I think I would have enjoyed with anyone, but, well, gosh. I miss her so much.

― Gregory Henry (Gregory Henry), Thursday, 25 March 2004 07:44 (twenty-two years ago)

Mrs Russell who took our A-Level English class. She won my admiration when she didn't bat an eyelid while reading Philip Larkin's "This Be the Verse" (you know the one!) to a bunch of giggling convent school girls.

― Cathryn (Cathryn), Thursday, 25 March 2004 14:01 (twenty-two years ago)

Kevin, my class teacher for 4 years, was the most encouraging, and S3an McEv0y set the bar highest, but I don't think any of them were *great*. I learned more from my peers, my parents, and by reading on my own. Sorry teachers...

― Archel (Archel), Thursday, 25 March 2004 14:36 (twenty-two years ago)

When I was 13, I had a cute 30-something English teacher, who was well-renowned (in North London 13-year-old-boy-circles, at least), for never wearing underwear (top or bottom). That seemed rather exciting to us at the time, but in retrospect, is pretty creepy.

― Chuck Tatum (Chuck Tatum), Thursday, 25 March 2004 18:58 (twenty-two years ago)

*hands Vermont Girl a hanky and some booze* Sorry, love...I bet it was cursing the hair off a cat that got to you :)

― yesabibliophile (yesabibliophile), Thursday, 25 March 2004 19:59 (twenty-two years ago)

Mrs. Scott, AP English senior year. Pretty much let me do whatever I wanted because I generally led the class in discussion (ie I argued a lot, that was the only thing I enjoyed in high school) even if I didn't bother with the homework.

― miloauckerman (miloauckerman), Thursday, 25 March 2004 21:36 (twenty-two years ago)

Watching his melancholy grow, I realised I never wanted to teach literature myself - it would be too disheartening.

I too decided I could never teach English when I saw what it did to him. I always felt kind of sorry for him.

Could either of you expand? I am considering teaching high school English myself, and I am curious, are you referring to discipline problems or something else.

My favorite teacher was Maire Jaanus at Barnard College. The classes I took with her: System and Subversion: Texts in 18th Century Literature (we read Sade and Kant), European Philosoply and Literature in the 20th Century (Sartre, Camus) and the Body in Literature (Lispector, Leiris.) She taught lectures on Lacan that had students riveted. Her approach was very Freudian. And she was a very beautiful older woman.

― Mary (Mary), Saturday, 27 March 2004 00:20 (twenty-two years ago)

My seventh teacher read to us every day after lunch. She read "Red Planet Mars" and we were full and warm and quiet. I lived for it every day. In High School my senior English teacher, Mr. Young, did the same, reading "Goodbye Mr. Chips" to us after lunch. Even today Mr Chips = Mr Young (fortytwo years later!)

― pepektheassassin (pepektheassassin), Saturday, 27 March 2004 07:14 (twenty-two years ago)

Seventh Grade. Which was, I guess, my seventh teacher, come to think of it. It's nice to be read to. Which is why, I suppose, people go to poetry readings, etc.

― pepektheassassin (pepektheassassin), Saturday, 27 March 2004 08:00 (twenty-two years ago)

None of my secondary school teachers were any good. My English teacher was the worst of the lot. She tried to get the class to listen for the machine-gun-like metre of Wilfred Owen's "Dulce et Decorum Est". None of us could hear it. But then, since it's a double sonnet, which naturally has an iambic metre, I'm not surprised.

My subsequent literary bent has been despite that woman's efforts.

― SRH (Skrik), Saturday, 27 March 2004 17:20 (twenty-two years ago)

Unfortunately, when it comes to English/Literature teachers, few have inspired me. Maybe it's because of where i come from. Anyhow, The Pearl by John Steinback and all his other books are forever tarnish by the memory of my awful Eng teacher. AARGH! Her method of 'teaching' if you can call it that was to read aloud lines and pages of that book in a phoney accent and asking us to underline certain phrases, sentences and paragraphs without explaining why. She never discuss the theme, plot, characters or whatever. All the necessary 'discussion' i need in order to answer the exam questions were derived from other books. Man.. how i dread English lessons then. She totally killed a language i love and took the joy out of reading. excuse my vehemance.

― unfazed, Wednesday, 31 March 2004 07:38 (twenty-two years ago)

Phyllis Levitt was simultaneously adored and feared by her AP English students at Dover High School in Dover Delaware.

That silver eye shadow, those long fake fingernails, that arrogance, that condescension, that sarcasm, that wit, that brow beating, there is no one I more wanted to please...

― Clellie, Wednesday, 31 March 2004 17:39 (twenty-two years ago)

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