As an English major, I humbly confess that I have never read Dante’s Inferno, nor have I read Homer’s Iliad or Odyssey. The endeavor to read all the classics is a daunting one. How does one balance coursework, chores, and friends with the myriad of incredible books that beckon to be read? Though a required standardized “Great Books” class for freshmen sounds like a promising way to instill students with a familiarity with and respect for the literary canon, the proposed idea does the opposite. Who is to determine what books are considered “great” enough to be included in the curriculum? How are we to ensure a well-rounded reading list, one that encourages diversity in voice, genre, style, thought, and background? How do we keep students engaged in the material? These are questions that professors grapple with when building course lists for classes focused on more specific topics, and when bringing in a subject as broad as “significant works,” the endeavor becomes nearly impossible.
Both Tufts’s British Literature from 1780 to 1950 and Contemporary Multi-Ethnic Literature are classes that have narrower scopes than the proposed Great Books class. Still, great pieces of literature are left out of the reading list simply because there are too many interesting pieces of writing to be studied over the course of a single semester. At the macro level, these issues would be further exacerbated. Professors would be charged with the great burden of teaching students about the greatest literary works of all time.
The standardized Great Books class would prioritize quantity of books over quality of discussion. In order to cover as much material as possible, less time would be given to each individual work. This would maximize the number of works discussed, but students wouldn’t be able to go as in depth with each piece of literature. What is the point of reading King Lear if there’s not enough time to interrogate the language to the fullest? This time constraint becomes even more of a hindrance when the class spans centuries.
When one is promised a class of the all-time most significant works, there will undoubtedly be great pieces of writing that will be left out. As I’ve noticed over the course of my academic career, the literary canon tends to lean eurocentric, often prioritizing the works of white male writers. The addition of Toni Morrison or Claudia Rankine (conveniently in February, perhaps) isn’t enough when contrasted with the inclusion of five Ancient Greek writers on the syllabus.
This imbalance between white writers and writers of color isn’t the only instance of a lack of diversity, either. Columbia’s significant works course, called Literature Humanities, features both Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, but only one book from the 21st century: Rankine’s Citizen. The vast majority of the Literature Humanities’ reading list was written before the 1500s. This implicitly suggests that the pieces most worth reading are from centuries ago. How does this encourage students to pursue literary creativity if they are shown that works written by long-dead white men are the only ones worth being taught?
A class with the premise of teaching freshmen about significant works does, of course, imply that other English classes teach about works that aren’t as great or important. This framing of a mandatory general Great Books class in contrast with an elective about the Harlem Renaissance, for example, establishes that the class teaching primarily white male writers is important, whereas the Harlem Renaissance class isn’t worth everybody’s time and is therefore optional.
Moreover, the requirement of a Great Books class forces students to engage with texts that they may not have a real interest in, thus discouraging a desire to genuinely engage with the texts. Cramming tons of dense material into one academic year isn’t only stressful, but also prevents students from actually connecting with the material as it feels like a burden. Instead of approaching material with curiosity and an authentic motivation to learn, they feel external pressure to do well in the class. They won’t connect with the material on a deeper level and therefore will neither internalize the importance of these significant works nor carry the lessons with them going forward.
Of course, the classics are classic for a reason. However, a course covering the Great Books presents a very limited view of what is “great.” Instead, freshmen should have the option to choose between a few English classes with narrower scopes, much like Tufts’ current English requirements. For example, it could be mandatory to choose between a Harlem Renaissance class, a Victorian Literature class, or an Asian American writers class, rather than simply Great Books. This ensures that no one genre, time period, or culture is prioritized over or considered more important than another. The topics would each be considered worth studying, and students would be able to pick a particular area of interest, thus ensuring that they would feel genuinely motivated to explore the texts assigned to them.
Photo by Sascha Dembling