The more I plan lessons for English classes, the more I have courage to explore meanings in books. I start to depart (a little bit) from the tried and true, knowing what the result is. I meander away from the beaten paths, knowing that they have already been paved quite a bit. I try to detour away from the predictable patterns. Do I want to do another lesson plan about "hero's journey"? Well, at this point, not really---and neither would my students, for that matter. They would likely much rather read about the complexities of characters than the standard patterns that are often read into those characters.
I wonder if what is truly magical is to fully trust one's ways of being curious about books, and trying to relax the more "official" and pretentious missions of trying to figure out the "ultimate meaning" of a book. This latter exercise assumes that a book is a puzzle that is decoded ever the same way, across the same readers. To relax the need to think of books in this way is to allow for fresher and more spontaneous meanings to emerge from the reading: allowing myself to become unexpectedly intrigued with new and unexplored connections. It might also mean taking more risks, such as the risk of reaching a dead end or failing to inspire students with a standard code for how to read a book.
It might also mean allowing for more detours in the classroom itself. The other day, that detour took the form of jumping from horror in literature to the effects of violent entertainment on children's behavior. This is not exactly literature or high art, but it was a topic that rang true to the students and made them want to speak out.
I guess the principal 'rule" in all of this is for teachers to try to have fun. This is the ultimate form of mirroring that might invite students to think that books are fun as well-including the so called "classics".
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