The Legend of King Arthur #1

Every year without fail, my students dive into Roger Lancelyn Green’s King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table. By the time we finish studying the book, I start noticing other versions and spin-offs stacked on their desks. They don’t want the story to end, and neither do I.  

Perhaps that’s the charm of the legend. It takes hold of our imagination and won’t let go. We keep coming back to the same questions: Could a Realm of Righteousness really exist? What if King Arthur was real? Is chivalry dead?  

In tribute to the enthusiasm of my students, I have put together a series that describes my classical approach to teaching the legend of King Arthur. I hope it may prove useful to students, parents, teachers, and the fandom in general, who want to learn about this enduring legend.    

The series is divided into the following segments: 

I. Background

II. Quest Motif

III. Archetypes

IV. Character Sketches

V. Plot Summary 

VI. Debates 

I recommend you read each segment in order as I post them in the coming weeks to get the fullest understanding of my classical approach, and don’t hesitate to contact me with questions! 

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.

Literacy, Wisdom, and Virtue #1

Great Books are a pillar of classical education, most obviously because they impart wisdom in some form or another. Some cause us to look out at the world and think deeply about what we see. Others compel us to look back at ourselves and reflect on who we are.

But there is another, equally important yet sometimes neglected reason why Great Books should be read in schools. They are powerful tools for teaching students to read well.

That’s right. Great Books, challenging as they can be, should be read by children of all ages, even young readers, to help them read better. No book is too hard or too advanced—if a teacher or parent is poised to guide a child through it.

It is the rare child who could pick up a Great Book by the likes of Shakespeare and unpack its meaning all on its own. For that matter, I can’t imagine an adult who could do that! The language is so difficult and the ideas so complex that a first read often feels mind-numbing and senseless.

For that reason, many educators shy away from the Great Books.

“Skills first!” they argue. “Students need to be good readers before they can dive into something like Shakespeare.”

Classical educators, however, respectfully disagree. The Great Books can be used to teach skills like reading fluency and comprehension while also opening up a child’s world to a wealth of wisdom. In this way, the reading experience is productive and meaningful. Children fall in love with reading as they grow in wisdom and virtue.

So what is virtue in this context?

If you read my series on King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table, you know that virtue is a major theme of my teaching. Here, I use the term as somewhat of a synonym for skill, and that’s not just because it’s a fancier word. Rather, I prefer virtue because it more fully captures the idea of a trained habit, whereas skill tends to imply something that can be mastered and moved on from.

Fluent reading, for example, is acquired from a steadfast devotion to practice, just as comprehension is achieved to an ever greater extent over time through continued effort. Both are constantly evolving in a reader. Even a highly literate adult reader might struggle with Shakespeare during a first read but will certainly understand more and more as he works through it. Thus, his virtues improve through the act of reading itself.

In this series, I am going to present a variety of strategies I use to teach the virtues of reading. Some are “tried-and-true,” while others are “research-based.” All are distinctly classical in that they are paired with the Great Books and all their wisdom.

I have grouped the strategies according to the following categories: reading aloud, silent reading, and focused practice.

The Lady of Shalott #1

I first read “The Lady of Shallot” by Alfred Lord Tennyson when I was a high school sophomore. My teacher assigned it as reading homework one evening, and then we discussed it in class together the next day. My interest piqued as she explained the story and broke down its symbolism. There was so much more going on with the enchanted damsel trapped in the tower than what I had been able to grasp on my own. All the while, her image kept staring out at me from the textbook, beckoning me to take a closer look.

“The Lady of Shalott” by John Waterhouse (1888)

It was a two-day study, but it stayed with me over the years. Maybe it was the melodious refrain of the poem that echoed in my mind. Maybe it was the tragic idea of one dying upon entering into the world. Maybe it was the look of anguish in the painting. Whatever it was, I reflected back on “The Lady of Shalott” from time to time before I became a teacher myself and selected it as a poetic companion to my class’s study of Roger Lancelyn Green’s King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table.

Drawing from the traditions of classical education, I spend significantly more time working on the poem with my students than I did back in high school. We discuss it, memorize it, and rewrite it over the course of two months. In the end, we have an incredible portfolio of assignments, not to mention an unforgettable encounter with a timeless poem.

Over the next few weeks, I will present a series that explains my classical approach to teaching “The Lady of Shalott.” It is broken down into the following segments.

I. Literary Analysis

II. Memory Work

III. Copia Work

I hope it may prove useful to students, parents, educators, and poetry lovers in general.