tellin stories...
By diana on Nov 9, 2013 | In capricious bloviations
Apparently, there's a "thing" at USAFA called "War Story Fridays." My cadets remind me on the odd occasion I'm actually teaching on a Friday. Not that they have to. I love telling stories.
So I stepped into class Thursday morning having many things planned to discuss but not really in the mood. I took roll, asked my students how their thesis sentences/research was coming along, and when they failed to respond, I said, "I don't really feel like teaching today. Can I just tell a story?"
They thought this was a sweet idea. One of my students said, "WAR STORY THURSDAY!"...so I went into my Moby Dick story.
I said, "When I was a kid...."
One of my students said, "That isn't the way you begin a story!"
I said, "So...there I was...," and my students laughed and clapped. "...about 13 years old,* and my father decided a new plan for getting my younger brothers to read was in order...."
* Wait. I'm pretty sure Noel had a job, which means I'd have been 14 or so.
Noel and I already read voraciously, but Daddy offered me the same deal he offered Wayne and David, who'd never picked up the reading habit. To wit: He would construct a list of books for us to read. Each list would be tailored to each child's reading level (or desired reading level). Each list would have ten books along with the amount he'd pay us for each book we read; the more difficult, the more he'd pay us. It was more or less on the honor system; he retained the right to quiz us on the book we'd said we'd read, but usually didn't.
I read some excellent literature: George Orwell's 1984, which to this day is probably the most depressing book I've ever read; Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates, an excellent novel (not just a children's tale); and A Tale of Two Cities, in which Dickens doesn't really bother with a plot until he's 2/3rds of the way through the novel.
We could complete the list in any order, but we would not be provided a second list until we finished the first.
Number 10 on my list was Moby Dick. It was worth something like $30. A fortune. And hey! I was a reader! How difficult could this be?
So I got the book and began reading. After "Call me Ishmael," I more or less lost interest but pressed on, learning all sorts of worthless things about the intricacies of whaling. A few chapters in, I went to Daddy, told him I just wasn't getting it, and could I have another book? He said, "You know the rules. You have to finish this list first if you want a second one. Besides...your cousin Harry has read that book 2 or 3 times already."
Really. I attacked the book with a newfound fervor. I think I got 1/3rd of the way through it before I went back to my father, this time in tears. I begged him. I was this far in and I didn't understand anything I read. I didn't even know what was going on. Something about a whale.
He said he was sorry, but he wasn't changing the rules.
I dropped the novel and the game, and that was that.
Then, about five years ago (maybe more now), I was at a family reunion and talking with my cousin Harry. Out of the blue, someone walked up and mentioned Moby Dick. Before I could say anything, Harry turned to him and said, "I never read it. Couldn't get into it."
I was like, "You SONOFABITCH. You were HELD AGAINST ME!" Well. I thought it. I mean...he never knew that he was used as a catalyst to get me to try to read it.
I finished this story with my cadets, then explained that the very idea of reading this book takes me back to that awful feeling I had when I tried then and couldn't do it. It's possible I could read it now, understand it, and maybe even enjoy it. But I'll never know. I'm a grown woman now. People made me eat okra and liver as a child, and I refuse to touch them as an adult, because it is my right. I abhor them (okra and liver--not the people), and I don't care if my tastes have changed or not; neither will ever pass my lips again. You know why? Because I'm an adult and I can make that choice.
By the same token, I will never read Moby Dick. I hate it already. Deeply. Passionately.
Then I turned all that into an actual lesson, somehow. Accidentally.
d
8 comments
“That isn’t the way you begin a story!”
Diana,
What, no remarks about Persian hookers? (Just kidding. I imagine talk like that is discouraged at school.)
I remember seeing a blog with a list of books that people didn’t actually want to read, but that they wanted to have read. Books whose titles could be dropped in conversation to impress someone, but that didn’t really have any other appeal. I believe Moby Dick was on that list. (But so was Lord of the Rings, so I think the list was probably created to provoke comments rather than provide knowledge.)
Dave
Believe it or not, I loved Moby Dick. Of course, I was an adult when I read it, and never had a book shoved in my face that way. I read from about 4 years old, and was reading 4th and 5th grade material by the time I started school at 6 (they didn’t have kindergarten then, as far as I know). One of the children (about 10-12 or older, thought I was just looking at the pages and pretending, until I started reading it out loud to him.
I never read Moby Dick and every time I hear about it I’m glad no one ever made me.
I usually read everything I came across as a child, so out of school I never encountered a reading list. School was different of course. Mostly I like the books I had to read, with one very clear exception. I really, really, really hate Lord of the Flies by William Golding. Detest it!
I was that way about Ulysses. I still own my copy from school, but I don’t think I could ever bring myself to attempt reading it again.
Aunt Bann, the book wasn’t shoved in my face, exactly. It was on my list, and I was offered what was, at the time, a princely sum to read it. :D Call it bribery if you wish. I still think Daddy’s idea was a terrific one. I just ran into a book I couldn’t get. Yes, I could have forced my eyes to trace each line, but I’ve never mistaken that for reading, so I took the only other option available.
I read the SparkNotes summary on it this morning. It’s an interesting story, if told in 500 words or less. :)
d
There have been some books that I just had to quit trying to read. I can’t tell you a single name of one that I didn’t read, though; the book was erased from my memory when I quit trying to read it. And I may have picked one of them up, later, and read the entire book and enjoyed it. I don’t know!
Moby Dick was one of the greatest books I ever read. So there. Rog
Well, you are a nutter sailor, Rog. Knowing you, you’ve probably even been whaling. I wouldn’t put it past you. Which means you probably read the book judging it for authenticity….
d
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