Last Thursday, I had the unusual experience of giving a paper at an academic conference. The event was about the future of English studies, and I was there because of a call for papers put out in association with Wasafiri magazine, a British publication championing international contemporary writing. I suggested that I might speak about my work with embracing not-knowing in reading, which forms the basis of my Incomprehension Workshops and forthcoming book, Relearning to Read. The organisers liked the sound of this, and so, last Thursday morning, I found myself joining other speakers and delegates in the gracious surroundings of York’s Guildhall for the start of the three-day event.
The University of York’s Professor Helen Smith opened proceedings, saying that she felt the event was about survival and finding positive ways that the field of English studies could continue. As an English literature graduate myself, I was a bit taken aback – surely the subject couldn’t be in so much trouble?
But as the discussion opened up and academics from universities across the UK began to speak, it became clear that there are many challenges facing those teaching English literature, language and related disciplines today. From the declaration last year that the English GCSE isn’t fit for purpose and the increased testing of performance all through school, to the encroachment of AI on students’ work practices, the sector seems increasingly restricted and hobbled.
The main issue, as several of the people sitting near me said, was a lack of joy in the classroom these days.
This made me sad. For me, reading has always been about joy. I was eight when I decided that I wanted to study English literature at university, having been entranced by L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables. Reading was magic, it seemed to me. I couldn’t imagine a better thing than spending three years reading stories. How miserable to think of today’s young readers having all that pleasure squashed out of them.
Still, when I thought about it, I could recognise what was being said. Last year, I ran an Incomprehension Workshop at a sixth-form college near where I live in Folkestone. It being World Book Day, I started the session by asking participants to write down how they would complete three sentences:
- Reading is…
- The world is…
- Stories are…
At the end of the session, I invited students to read out what they’d written. One said this:
- Reading is boring
- The world is crazy
- Stories are exciting
It was clear that something of that disconnect the university lecturers were describing had happened for that sixth-former. Although they still felt the power of stories, this had somehow become separated from reading for them. Books were not the source of connection and electricity they had been for me.
I hope my panel helped propose some ways in which that gap might be rebridged. Titled, ‘Incomprehension and Living Between’, it opened with Turkish writer and translator Elif Gülez reading from her memoir about the culture clash she experienced growing up. The extract was powerful and resonated with the small but highly engaged audience, showing how personal narrative can cut through barriers and make experience live in other minds.
Then, I spoke about incomprehension and how I try to foster a spirit of play in my work with this. I was particularly touched when one audience member said afterwards that the demonstration I had given had taken her back to the wonder of reading like a child once more.
Lastly, we were joined remotely by Indian academic Gokul Prabhu, who delivered a fascinating paper on ‘Queer Opacity in Translation’ – considering how the attempt to make things legible and understandable may sometimes work against the spirit of a text, and how translators may sometimes need to leave gaps and jolts in work that does not intend to make its meaning plain.
There was a marvellous electricity in the room, and this carried on into the afternoon, in a session on teaching creative writing, chaired by poet Anthony Vahni Capildeo, whose work-in-progress memoir I read as my Trinidadian pick back in 2012. The panel featured four writers who all teach at UK universities: J.R. Carpenter (University of Leeds), Joanne Limburg (University of Cambridge), Juliana Mensah (University of York), and Sam Reese (York St John University).
They were honest about the challenges facing the industry and sector, but so full of enthusiasm and powerful insights that it was impossible not to be encouraged. I was particularly struck by Carpenter’s statement that a poem ought to unfold in the same way that it was gathered up, although, as Mensah observed, this idea is faintly terrifying when I think about the chaotic nature of my own creative process!
I came away heartened to think that the academic branch of the field I love has such people working in it. And grateful that so many of those labouring under such pressure at the UK’s universities felt it was worth taking three days out of their hectic schedules to consider how better to foster and share a love of reading stories.
I also felt a renewed energy for and commitment to the possibilities of embracing not-knowing and incomprehension too. More soon!
Picture: ‘Municipal Offices and Guildhall, York, North Riding of Yorkshire, England’ by Billy Wilson on flickr.com
When will your next online workshop be available?
Thanks for asking, Cathy. I’m not sure yet. I may do one around the publication of Relearning to Read. Watch this space!
It is worrying. I’ve read of universities in the UK cutting their English courses because they’re not getting any uptake, for heaven’s sake. Twenty-five years ago I went to university to study English, and the courses were very in demand – and in 25 years we’ve come to this. Tragic. I wouldn’t want to generalise about the youth of today, but what you’ve noted above about their disconnct between stories and reading sounds like ‘want the stories but can’t be bothered to do the hard work (reading) to get them. Maybe a reason why audio books are seeing an upturn. If that’s what it takes, and we’re going back to the oral tradition of storytelling, well I suppose it’s liveable with – but listening loses the art of learnng vocabulary, grammar and punctuation. I despair, but I guess there’s also some hope in what you’ve said above. Thanks for the post, depressing as it might be. 🙁
Thanks. I think you’re right that hope lies in the fact that the appetite for stories remains strong. This project showed me the power of that. And it may be that there are things in the book industry and teaching institutions that need to change – certainly many of those I spoke to felt the assessments and regulations were strangling a lot of the life out of students’ time in the classroom. But yes, a worrying time.
My own University is being decimated by a MAGA governor. So sad.
Very sad indeed to see so much hard work and so many sources of inspiration under threat.
Glad to hear about your paper. Yes, reading is boring to everyone right now. It needs a special kind of focused engagement that’s waning. Maybe the texts we read need to change for this changed audience and can’t be just words anymore. As far as English studies is concerned, that needs to embrace so much more than English to survive a new world. Hope your optimism translates to reality about the field.
Thanks. Interesting ideas!
Thank you Ann
As a self-published writer from Africa, I find myself obsessing about the future for readers there. Smartphones and intelligent people together with unaffordable books for most people and so few of them anyway as publishing and marketing is so fraught and dear. Humans are storytellers and we need readers but have they now become listeners? We need to be readers, listeners, communicators, storytellers and lovers of stories. Help is needed to understand and find a way.
Thank you.
Ruth.
Thanks Ruth. The landscape sounds challenging everywhere, and as you say each region has its particular issues. But, as you also say, humans are storytellers. And I think this is where the hope lies. As ever, creativity and vision are needed!
It strikes me that there still seem to be plenty of young people interested in writing, so perhaps they will come to reading through writing. As an author or journalist, there’s always the dream of making a career of it. Not much chance of that as a reader. But now there is so much self publishing, especially online, there’s also much less quality control. When there’s so much produced, so much unrealistic promotion on TikTok and elsewhere, the sheer number of new books is utterly overwhelming. Even people who do read find themselves pulled this way and that, but when I look at middle grade books, there are far too many uninspiring books by celebrities, with no bridge to interesting YA and adult books. Too much romantasy and the like that don’t require too much concentration. Having said which, some of the bestselling books of the last couple of years haven’t been short at all: Lessons in Chemistry, The Ministry of Time. I hope the future of literature isn’t novellas and short stories.
Yes, that feeling of overwhelm is a challenge, isn’t it? Personally, I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for novellas and short stories, though. Certainly in the UK I think they could do with being a bit more celebrated.
English studies will have to reinvent themselves. Books are out and games are in. Young people growing up in a digital age want to interact with their content. It will require writers to have a solid base in computer science to: they will have to become scriptwriters.
I think some courses already feature some modules on games writing. This certainly does seem to be an important chapter in contemporary storytelling…
I;m just an average reader and certainly not a literary academic but I have read mountains of books in my life. I must say the more modern books don’t give me as much joy as I remember from the past. Everything seems to be war, refugee disasters, poverty, abuse of people, crime. I need to either go back to some of the funnier, wittier authors of the past or search harder for books that simply offer escape and entertainment. I might add I’m 75 yrs old so have seen a lot of ‘real’ life. 😀
Interesting, thank you. You certainly don’t sound like an average reader to me! I hope the coming months bring you some more joyful reads.
Haha thank you.