Post

I've told this story before and I suppose now it's time to do it again. When I was in 9th grade, my English teacher was the elderly sort of man who always wore a gray flannel suit and had a cigarette before class and a cigarette at the end of class every period.

Sarah@sosomanysarahs.bsky.social

It seems like assigned reading, especially summer reading, should include titles from different genres, with different tones, from different eras. (And as a former sulky Anne Rice-reading teen, I advocate for some over-the-top moodiness in the mix with realistic problem fiction and happier tales.)

41 reposts143 likes

My class was the last one of the day and by that point none of us wanted to be there, least of all him. One day he kind of lost his temper with a gothy sort of girl who always had snide remarks about "when is this ever going to matter in her life?" whether we were reading Homer or Shakespeare. 2/

He snapped at her. "Who DO you like to read? Is there ANY AUTHOR you have EVER read for enjoyment?" She was kind of taken aback but eventually said yes. "WHO?!" Ayn Rand. "I don't know what I thought you were going to say, but it wasn't that. Good for you, I guess. Wow."

Then he added, "So there is literature that you enjoy and is meaningful to you. That's good. That's a start. Now what is it about the works of Ayn Rand that you enjoy so much?" "I dunno, really, there's just something about sexy vampires that really gets me involved in the story."

I will never forget the look on his face. He had to cough and look away and then look away again, and then put his head in his hands and then he was like "Ah. Okay. I see. I think you mean Ann Rice. I have nothing more to add to that. We're done here." And he had a smoke break.