The Art of Writing #1: Introduction to Copia

Writing instruction for middle school students is one of the more difficult challenges for teachers. Not only do they need to ensure students master all sorts of grammatical and spelling rules, but they also need to help students come up with something meaningful to say.  

Many of the writing “programs” out there have devised all sorts of complex methods that walk students through multiple phases of pre-writing, writing, and revision. The names for these phases can vary a lot, but the point is more or less the same. The more time you spend thinking about what you are going to write and then writing and rewriting it, the better the end result. I certainly agree with this.  

Nonetheless, those same programs are often overly tedious and devoid of meaningful content for students to contemplate and develop. Instead, they set up drawn out writing assignments about some fairly absurd topics like favorite foods or hobbies. Not that there is anything wrong with those ideas, but they feel a little empty and almost insulting to students. Like a seventh grader doesn’t have more interesting ideas to offer! 

Even in the world of classical education, there are very few writing programs out there, which by the way, are complete with their own fancy names for the writing phases. Most classical educators are appropriately skeptical of anything prepackaged as they tend to suck the life out an otherwise worthy intellectual endeavor. Instead, classical educators hold fast to a collection of good habits and a handful of tried and true exercises.  

One that I have enjoyed using with great success is copia, which comes from the Latin word for ‘abundance.’ As suggested by its etymology, copia as a writing exercise refers to a deliberate practice of finding the many ways in which one might say something. I like to define it as the art of expressing the Truth of language in a new way.

Desiderius Erasmus developed this exercises in the early 16th century, famously coming up with 150 ways to rewrite the sentence, “Your letter pleased me greatly.” For an example of what this looks like, check out this link. His point is fairly obvious. Even the most basic ideas can be said in a multitude of ways. It is up the writer, then, to choose which way is the best.   

This is an invaluable lesson for the student, not to mention the seasoned writer. I spend a class period early on in the school year presenting the Erasmus challenge. Try as they might, my students fall way short of his 150 examples, but they begin to see how words can be transformed without changing the meaning.  

From there, I introduce the two main ways that I have adapted the exercise in the classroom. The first is using copia to teach language patterns. The second is using copia to teach artistic expression. I will present both styles in subsequent posts. 

Exercise for a Storyteller #1: Rewrite a Fairy Tale 

Fairy Tales are some of the “daintiest bits” in the “cauldron of story” that J.R.R. Tolkien described in his essay, “On Fairy Stories.” They tend to be more digestible in one sitting than many other genres of story, but they are no less meaty. For that reason, children can do all sorts of fun things with them.  

My students like making small twists to the storyline, such as reimagining a character or the setting or changing a key decision or the narrative perspective. Imagine what would happen if Little Red Riding Hood was a princess or the bird in Hansel and Gretel was actually the children’s mother. What if Jack’s beanstalk grew into the earth instead of out of it? What kind of story might unfold if the Miller confessed that he was lying about his daughter being able to spin straw into gold or if the Huntsman had actually tried to kill Snow White instead of taking mercy on her? How different would the story of the three little pigs be from the perspective of the wolf?  

The answer to each of these questions fundamentally alters the premise of each story. Ask a child one of them and presto! He has a brand-new storyline to work with. That’s so much easier (and usually a lot more fun) than coming up with everything from scratch.    

I recommend a child read an early version of any fairy tale he’s interested in, such as one by the Brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Anderson, or Oscar Wilde. (Take a look at some of my favorites here.) Then, have him retell the story in its original form out-loud, preferably to an audience, to warm-up his storyteller voice and ensure he has a basic understanding of the storyline. Once he does, the child should start thinking of twists. Finally, he should begin writing when he finds a twist that’s exciting.  

Just as I said in the introduction to this series, rewriting the story in its entirety is not at all necessary either. The rule of thumb I use with my students is one scene in one sitting. At first, many of them race through their scene. Some, intent on their story, fly through scene after scene. Others, jot down a few sentences and call it finis long before the bell rings. No matter the extreme, both scenes end up undeveloped in many ways. The child who goes slowly through his scene, carefully setting the tone, describing the setting, developing the characters’ feelings, thoughts, words, and actions ends up with the most gripping scene, the scene that everybody celebrates when it’s time to share.  

So remember, a child should go slow and have fun with the scene. That will make him all the more likely to pick up the story on another day.  

Image Credit: A Child’s Book of Stories by Penrhyn W. Coussens, illustrated by Jessie Willcox Smith. New York: Duffield and Company, 1911. 

The Language of Grammar: Authentic Sentences #1

Now that we have mastered classifying and diagramming the various sentence patterns and sentence types, we are ready to work with authentic language, or words spoken in their natural context.

So far, I have composed all the sentences in this blog series to fit a particular lesson. That is no longer necessary. We can now move on to sentences drawn from the bottomless treasure trove of the written and spoken word. There may be a few outstanding classifying and diagramming rules for us to learn, but we will deal with them as they come up.

PRACTICE SENTENCES

In keeping with our theme of the Renaissance and building off of our last post on Francis Petrarch, we turn to another humanist, Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527). He is considered one of the most influential political thinkers of his day and is most well-known for writing The Prince, which was meant as a guide for Medici de Lorenzo, ruler of Florence.

Machiavelli’s ideas continue to shape politics, statesmanship, and power today. Here are some of his most famous, not to mention controversial, quotes for us to classify and diagram.

“Who wishes to be obeyed” is a noun clause modifying “He.” It answers the question, “What kind of he?”
This sentence has another noun clause. “He has around him” modifies “men.” It answers the question, “Which men?”
“Who has power” is a noun clause that modifies “he.” It answers the question, “What kind of he?” Notice also that the subject noun in the second complete thought is inferred. I left it blank, but another option is to write an x in the space.
This complex sentence has the added complexity of using an unequal comparison between being feared and being loved, which is set up by the word “than.” We can infer a parallel structure in the comparison such that the phrase means “it is better to be feared than to be loved.”
This sentence has another noun clause. “That does not trust its people to be armed” modifies “government.” It answers the question, “What kind of government?”
Here we have another unequal comparison set up with the word “than.” The “sureness” of the sign of decay is guaranteed, or we might say maximized, by the contempt that is “held.”
The subject noun of the second complete thought is inferred, so I left it blank. While we could think of “few” as the subject pronoun, the sentence is meant to be parallel. Hence, “few” is an adjective just as “all” is an adjective.

Whether we agree with Machiavelli’s principles or not, he certainly had great insight into the politics of governance. He understood how to read and exploit the feelings of society for the advantage of his prince.

While we may not like his lack of moral scruples, his judgment was governed by something he thought far more sacred—power. In his view, every decision, every action of a ruler should be a careful calculation designed to secure and augment the strength of the state.

Although it makes Machiavelli seem somewhat sinister by our modern sensibilities, there is an honesty to his politics. He did not pretend to serve the people, at least not directly. His allegiance was to his “prince” who, in turn, offered safety and security to the kingdom. Without a strong centralized government, he contended, the people would suffernot that he necessarily cared about them for their own sake

In any event, Machiavelli’s ideas make for wonderful practice classifying and diagramming sentences. They also make for wonderful debate in the classroom!

Essay Writing #1: The Idea

A good essay starts with a good idea. It’s really that simple. Thus, much of my “writing instruction” doesn’t even involve writing. Instead, it consists of Socratic discussions and disputations based on the great books in our Literature studies or the rich content of our History lessons.

And that’s the special something that makes essays in a classical classroom turn out so nicely. They are not one-off assignments or formulaic gobbley gook from a pre-packaged writing program.

Certainly students can write wonderful essays drawn from fairly typical prompts like, “Who is your favorite athlete?” In my first few years of teaching, I sampled some of those prompts, and the essays were okay at best. They generally read like the students didn’t care all that much about what they were saying, almost like they felt the prompts were beneath them. Frankly, they were.

Students are capable of much deeper thinking beyond what Derek Jeter or even Babe Ruth can elicit. They need a chance to engage the “big questions” and to develop and write out their own opinions on ideas related to life and death, love and romance, wisdom and foolishness, to name a few.

At least in my classroom, essays drawn from King Arthur or The Marriage Set have students on the edge of their seats. Likewise, an essay to evaluate the justice of the Crusades in the Middle Ages sparks an impassioned response. And the reason students engage those essays with such passion is because they had ample time to develop and defend their ideas during a unit. They already have skin in the game, so to speak.

What’s more, students enjoy defining their own essay topics because they have so many ideas to work with. I think John Steinbeck was right when he said,

Rabbits by Henri-Charles Guérard

Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.”

In a classical classroom, students get to “pet” dozens and dozens of “bunnies” before they raise one into an essay. All that experience builds confidence in students and helps the chosen “bunnies” thrive.

For example, when we read Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, we spend a lot of time dealing with the concept of “construction of memoir.” From those discussions, one student might write an essay on whether or not Mark Twain was “telling the truth” about Joan’s life. Another might write about the type of military leader Joan was and another about how she handled herself during her trial and condemnation. Each of those essays reflects discussions we had in class, albeit with additional ideas unique to individual students.

While my approach to writing instruction is fluid enough to draw from almost anything we discuss, it is also deliberate in its planning and implementation. My goal is for all of my students to learn the writing process and be able to apply it to three essay formats: the simple essay, the classical essay, and the personal essay. I will breakdown what this entails in subsequent posts. 

Image courtesy of The National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Fairy Tales #12: A Classical Study

There is something about reading fairy tales that is quintessentially classical. After all, classical education considers the great stories of Western culture one of its core foundations. So if at the end of a school day I have read a fairy tale with my students, I am usually pleased. But, if that’s where it ends, I am all the more disappointed.

Rich as they are for the moral imagination, I try to draw as much from them as possible. Here is a breakdown of some of my favorite extension activities to do with students.

DISCOURSE
Socratic Discussion

A classical mainstay, Socratic discussion is at the heart of my approach to studying fairy tales. We discuss the stories in small groups and as a whole class, often rearranging the desks and chairs so we form one large circle or several smaller ones. This discursive format helps students break down the plot and unpack its core symbols.

I guide the discussions but play a limited role in order to encourage active engagement from the students. Plus, it lets them tease out the ideas that they find most interesting. In this way, students feel a greater sense of ownership in the discussions and make more personal contributions.

Disputation

This is a really fun one that serves as a natural outgrowth of Socratic discussion. Disputation involves debating key aspects of the story, typically those that pose moral dilemmas. For example, in reading Cat and Mouse in Partnership, we might debate whether the mouse should have formed a partnership with the cat. Or when reading Cinderella, we might debate whether or not it is a good story for little kids.

Sometimes our debates are very formal with preparation and regulated rounds. Other times, they are of a more impromptu style. Either way, the students get very animated and impassioned.

CREATIVE WRITING
Plot Reinvention

Another exercise I really like is plot reinvention. First, students have to thoroughly understand the original plot of the story, meaning they can express the inciting incident, climax, and resolution for themselves much as I have done in this blog series. Once they can do this, they choose an element to change.

If, for example, the father in Godfather Death were to choose God, then the whole story would change. The student’s job would be to tell that new story. One of the great things about this exercise is that it gives students a concrete place to start writing, which can be very difficult with more open-ended prompts.  

Character Reinvention

Character reinvention follows this same principle. What if Little Red Cap were a naughty girl? Or what if the fisherman had a tougher upper lip? Or how about making the youngest sister in Twelve Brothers a real chatter-box?

When students develop a whole new approach to a character, it affects all of his or her motives and actions and can lead to a different, not to mention highly entertaining, story altogether.

Working from Art

I also like projecting beautiful paintings or sketches from fairy tales and having students write just one scene based on the picture. This approach is a little more contained than the previous two, so it makes it easier for students to develop sharp, properly formatted dialogue and well-planned narration. As such, it readily doubles as a grammar lesson as well as a creative writing exercise.


Cinderella by John Everett Millais

In preparation for writing a scene for Cinderella, I might depict the painting above by John Everett Millais and prompt students with the following: Describe the moment in time depicted here. What are the character’s thoughts? Words? Actions? Draw your ideas together as a scene from the story. Be sure to include dialogue and narration.

ARTISTIC RENDERING
Reflective Journaling

There are a number of mediums one could use for reflective journaling, but one I really like is water color. This entails students painting something they found inspiring in a fairy tale.

After reading The Little Match Seller, one might paint a wood stove, another a Christmas tree, or even the little girl flying up to Heaven. Once students have painted their pictures, they reflect in writing on what they have depicted and why. When that’s done, they walk around and view everyone else’s journals in what we call a “museum walk.”

All the while, we play classical music and otherwise maintain silence. It makes for a very relaxing, thoughtful environment, not to mention beautiful work. 

Story Board

This one is borrowed from the publishing industry wherein editors lay out words on a story board and then contract illustrators to matches them with pictures. I have students do the same thing with a fairy tale.

Their story boards can be very elaborate or more of a quick sketch, true to the story or reinvented using one of the models above. Either way, students fine-tune their understanding of the plot and have the opportunity to do so in an artistic, visual way.

Act Them Out

Most of my students like acting out the fairy tales best of all. I give them liberty to keep or change whatever they want in the plots. For that matter, they can even combine plots as long as it makes sense. Their job is to write the script, memorize it, and present it in a formal production. Ideally, we invite other classes in the school to come and watch.

CONCLUSION

These types of exercises cause students to think deeply about the fairy tales. This is extremely valuable from an educational standpoint, not least because it helps students to really understand the stories and develop their own insights.

It is perhaps even more valuable from a moral standpoint because the lessons can serve as a guide for life’s real-world difficulties. When, for example, they are discerning the nature of a friendship, they can draw from Cat and Mouse in Partnership. They can look to The Mermaid or The Snow Queen when trying to understand the true meaning of love. Perhaps they will think about The Emperor’s New Clothes when they eventually come to critique politics. Or maybe, they will take heart from The Little Match Seller in the face of personal suffering, which no doubts awaits everyone at some point or another.

Whatever the case may be, by extending the fairy tales with additional exercises, students come to embody them in a way that will enrich their lives forever. At least that’s my hope.

Image in the public domain

Fairy Tales #11: The Emperor’s New Clothes

The Emperor’s New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen continues to fascinate modern day children. Of course everybody loves the famous underwear scene, but that’s not the only reason it has endured. It also touches on an array of virtues and vices like wisdom versus foolishness and humility versus pride in highly palpable ways. What’s more, it offers lessons for the everyday person and the statesman alike.

In order to unpack those ideas, let’s first examine the plot.  

PLOT SUMMARY
Exposition – The Background

There lives an emperor who is particularly fond of his appearance and spares no expense to dress in the finest attire. So obsessed is he, that he spends virtually all of his time consumed with his looks instead of the affairs of state.

Inciting Incident – The Problem

Knowing the emperor’s disposition, two swindlers seek to deceive the king and thereby make a profit. They pretend to be fine tailors and offer to sew him an outfit of such unmatched quality that none but the wisest can see it.

Rising Action – The Build-up

Greedy for such finery, the emperor commissions the tailors and follows their progress most eagerly. However, fearing his own foolishness would be revealed if he could not see the clothes, he sends in several of his advisors one after another to look at the clothes on his behalf.

As the tailors are not actually sewing anything but simply pretending to cut fabric and sew seams, none can see anything. Yet, all pretend to see a fine outfit for fear of being thought foolish. As the days progress and the pretend outfit nears completion, the emperor plans a royal procession throughout the streets of his kingdom to show off his new clothes. 

Climax – The Point of No Return

Finally, the emperor steps into his dressing chamber to try on his new outfit. Of course he can not see the clothes because they do not exist, but he pretends to get dressed in them just the same. There is no way he is going to admit that he does not see them because he, too, does not want to be thought a fool.

Falling Action – The Unraveling

And so the king processes through the streets with a grand entourage wearing only his underwear but believing himself royally clad.

Anti-resolution – The Truth is Out

All but a small child pretend to see the outfit. The child, not concerned with the thoughts of others, blurts out the obvious truth that the emperor is wearing nothing but underwear. The rest of the crowd soon also acknowledges this to be true.

Even the king realizes he has been made a fool of, but he continues on his procession, unwilling to acknowledge his shame.

PLOT ANALYSIS
Clothed in Falsehood

There are a number of figurative interpretations at play in this timeless story. Perhaps the first and most obvious has to do with vanity. After all, the king is obsessed with his looks, and that is what leads him down a foolish path.

When we dig just a little deeper, it becomes clear that his vanity relates not only to his looks but also to his power. He is obsessed with “being king” yet cares nothing for the real duties this entails. Instead, he spends his days playing dress-up, so to speak, and pretending to be in charge of the kingdom.

What’s worse, he knows he is a fool and is worried sick that anyone should find out. That is why he refuses to look at the outfit himself. He knows from the beginning that he is not wise enough to see it. And when he finally looks into the dressing room, his doubts about himself are confirmed. He cannot see the outfit.

Helen Stratton, The fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen, page 45 illustration

Ironically, what he really cannot see is that he has been tricked. When he parades through town in his underwear, he believes himself regally clad. Just as the truth of his nakedness is revealed, so too is the truth of his power. He has none. All his wisdom and authority are empty, so much so that even a small child knows it.

It does not take an act of war or even well-planned subterfuge to bring about his downfall. It takes only two swindlers. He truly was not fit to be king.

Historical Lessons

This story, though about a king, was not written for a king. It was written for the people.

We know that because the narrator lets us readers in on the trick the swindlers are playing. From the beginning, we know they are not really sewing a fine outfit, and we anxiously look forward to seeing how the king will deal with them. We may hope he does not fall for their trick, but we thoroughly enjoy that he does.

Hans Christian Andersen, writing in the 1800s, knew that most of his readers would feel a level of disdain for kings whose right to rule was far more arbitrary than we could ever claim today. A king was either born into power or took it by force. Meanwhile, the people plain-old had to fall in line.

Many a real king leisurely sat in his palace “admiring his power” while the people toiled away paying taxes, ready to suit up for war on command. For them, the emperor’s new clothes were nothing but a well-worn reality. 

CONCLUSION

Such is often the case today as well. Be it the politics of state or family, church or school, fame or fashion, one needs ever to be on the lookout for falsehood.

And therein is the lesson I like best about The Emperor’s New Clothes. It teaches children to look critically at the world around them. In a sense, it shows them that they have power far greater than that of a king for theirs is the power of critical thinking. With it, they can judge the world around them and rule their own lives with wisdom and virtue.

Image in the public domain