On Such a Full Sea of Confusion

Full disclosure:

I'm not sure that I like my book. 

Don't get me wrong, there are some really interesting concepts at work in this futuristic dystopia set in what was formerly Baltimore (renamed B-Mor) in the book. 

For one, what exactly happened to the former residents of Baltimore? Not much is clear so far about why the city declined to the point that it becomes the relocation point for people from some place called New China.  But where is/was New China? We know that it became unlivable due to over-production, "the water fouled beyond all known methods of treatment,"(19)  but we don't really know who is in control.

In this way, the depiction of the future is not too unusual, not too far off from what might actually occur. The society in B-Mor is structured with a hierarchy, another element typical of futuristic dystopias. The uppermost echelon is the Charters, to which people in the other ranks can be recruited, either for athletic talent, good looks, or scoring well on aptitude tests.

Then there are the residents of B-Mor, and outside of B-Mor are the open counties, the areas not regulated (or so it seems).  There isn't a lot of clarity about what's going on in the counties, most likely because the narrator does not live in the counties. 

Which brings me to why I'm not sure if I like the book: the narrator of this novel is a "we." It's first person plural, which leads me to constantly question who the "we" is. How many "we" does this cover? Who is the "we"?

As I read about this young woman, Fan, who leaves B-Mor for the open counties in search of her boyfriend Reg, who has mysteriously disappeared, an occurrence seemingly not too unusual in this world, I can't help but wonder who is filtering her story for me. The story is definitely told shortly after her departure, and after some other actions Fan has taken, which has led to her "cause [being] taken up by a startling number of us" (3).

But who is the us?

The narration, while unique, is kind of annoying, though perhaps it suggests something about the power of group-think, as all dystopias seem to revolve around the majority conforming to the minority's will.  As the narrator says, "more and more we can see that the question is not whether we are 'individuals.' We can't help but be this...The question, then, is whether being an 'individual' makes a difference anymore. That it can matter at all. And if not, whether we in fact care" (3)

Beginning to Blog

I've been reading a lot about the value of student choice in education lately, particularly during my recent visit to the NCTE conference in DC.  I have struggled in the past to allow students full and free choice regarding their reading.  As a teacher who wants students to see the craft behind a text, to analyze the authors' messages and meanings, to become better critical readers, I thought free-choice reading ran counter to these aims.

Admittedly I am a bit of a control-freak, and so I found it easier to control the texts my students read, rationalizing that I would not be able to guide them to the aforementioned goals if every student were reading a different text. I can be a master of one text, The Great Gatsby, for instance, and help students to see how Fitzgerald's use of motifs build to an essential meaning.  I can guide them to understand how the allusions in Fahrenheit 451 help develop Bradbury's point about the dangers of technology.  I can guide their reading and their understanding.

But, does such an approach build students who love reading?  Because of course this is another goal. I happen to love exploring authors' craft, an interest that goes back to my own high school days when I first read literary criticism.  I don't think all of my students, or even most, love literary criticism as I do. Perhaps they can appreciate it, and appreciate the work it takes to create a work of art that is more than just plot, as some commented when we read a passage from one of Toni Morrison's lectures about her creation of, and intentions for, the first sentence of Song of Solomon. 

A class structured around a single text also harkens back to my high school days, when we all read the same thing.  But I was always reading my own thing too.  And it seems that my students, so busy with so many activities and responsibilities, aren't reading on their own, and if they are they frequently choose young adult texts which are plot-heavy but, generally, style light. 

And so I came to this blog activity.  I see it as a chance to achieve all of the goals I've listed above.  Since my AP students have already read two class novels, they should have a good grounding in my expectations for close reading and insightful analysis.  Since they have to choose a text that would be applicable to a question three AP exam question, they will be choosing something that is not too easy, that is more than a quick read. And, of course, I hope that they will like, if not love, the books that they select, classic or contemporary. 

It's not easy giving up control to my students, and I'm worried about all that might go wrong: the technology problems, the looseness of the assignment, the possibility of students just Sparknoting their novels. However, I've enjoyed the first results of this endeavor-the conversations I have had with students about book: which book to read, which books is most like this other book that I liked, why isn't this a work of "literary merit?"  These discussions haven't happened in the past, since the choice of text was teacher-centered. At the end of the day, and the year, and their high school careers, it isn't really about me, though. It's about them.  About their ability to read a complex text and analyze it for meaning. About their willingness to work through a task that is difficult. It's about these students being readers who look to fiction as a way to understand themselves and their world.

What are the most important skills students need in order to understand Fahrenheit 451?