Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Chaucer on Marriage #1

Looking to Geoffrey Chaucer, a 14th century satirical writer, for marriage advice sounds about as ridiculous as picking up the comic section of the Sunday newspaper to gain insight into true love. Laden with jokes and humor as they are, how could they possibly reveal wisdom about anything?

Yet, when we stop to think about the likes of Charles Shultz, the cartoonist of the beloved Peanuts comic strip, it becomes clear that wisdom does in fact speak through playfulness and even foolishness at times. Consider, for example, Linus’s famous testimony on the meaning of Christmas in A Charlie Brown Christmas. Likewise, pick up just about any Calvin and Hobbes comic strip by Bill Waterson and you’ll find his cartoon characters engaged in rather profound dialogue.

Sometimes, we need to hear something a little differently, perhaps with childlike simplicity or humor, to really get it.

Chaucer understood this, too. In The Canterbury Tales, he uses satire, which is a type of ridiculously exaggerated humor, to reveal Truth. Ironically, it can be easier to see Truth when intentionally and skillfully “openly-hidden” in falsehood. It becomes a game of sorts to unpack. We know something is off. Once we pinpoint what it is, we instinctively try to figure out the way it really should be.

Chaucer challenges readers to play his “satire game” over and over again, forcing them to look deeply at a wide range of enduring topics from income inequality, to education, to Church authority, and more. The unit I teach my middle school students revolves around Chaucer’s “Marriage Set.”

Yes, that does seem like somewhat of a distant topic for my age group, but it is nonetheless very enjoyable, formative, and even applicable. Students end up reflecting on the marriages of their parents and other adult models, but we take the topic much further to look at family life in general. After all, the bond between a husband and wife mirrors many relationships, most importantly that of us between God.

In this series, I am going to share my classical approach to teaching the “Marriage Set.” Here is the outline I will follow.

I. Literary Background

II. Characters and Caricatures

III. Discourse through Time

IV. The Role of Obedience

I hope it will be enjoyable, informative, and inspiring from a literary as well as a theological standpoint.

 

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Literacy, Wisdom, and Virtue #4: Focused Practice

All of the strategies presented in this series so far have offered support for developing reading virtues alongside opening a child up to the wisdom in Great Books. This final post does that also, but with a more deliberate emphasis on the virtue side of the equation. Just as athletes use drills to master the fundamental skills of their sport, readers benefit from deliberately isolating reading virtues in order to improve them.

My two favorite exercises are repeated readings and cloze readings, both of which are research-based and complement classical education very nicely.

Repeated Readings

Classical educators have long held up the importance of reading the same material over and over again to develop a deeper understanding of the text. Many of us do that for pleasure when we enjoy a book or out of necessity when we don’t fully understand something we read. Inevitably, we gain more the second and third time around.

The same is true for repeated readings. The catch, though, is that it seems at first like students are just mindlessly working through a text.

Here is why.

Repeated readings consist of students speed-reading aloud a small selection of text, usually about 100 words, as quickly and as many times as they can in one minute. Once they’re done, students record how many words they read. Then, the teacher resets the timer and has the student do it again some number of times.

Almost always, students read more words with each reading because they become more comfortable with the text. This builds confidence, reading fluency, and—perhaps surprisingly—reading comprehension at the same time. I like having students write something at the end, such as a moral if we read one of Aesop’s fables.

Here is a repeated reading example. Notice that each word is numbered to make it easier for students to track their progress. It’s just as easy to pencil in the numbers, which is what I normally do.

There could be many different versions of managing repeated readings. Some teachers might complete this one-on-one with a student, but I find it works very well to have students do this in pairs. I manage the clock for the entire class, and pairs of students take turns reading. It gets very noisy when half the class is reading at the same time, but students enjoy the competitive spirit it elicits. Best of all, the “competition” is always against oneself as the student is trying to beat his own score.

Another variation I like is pairing students up from different grade levels. Older students take on a mentor-role, helping younger students pronounce words and break down meaning, while developing their own reading virtues in the process. Everyone benefits!

Match this exercise with a significant passage from a Great Book, and students are primed for a critical discussion or writing assignment.

Cloze Reading

Another research-based strategy for improving reading virtues is cloze reading, which sharpens critical reading by explicitly drawing on the faculties of logic.

It consists of a teacher selecting a passage of text. I find it most valuable when chosen from a Great Book that students are already reading. Then, the teacher “blanks out” key words. Students must read the passage and figure out what words are missing. The goal is not necessarily to find the precise word the author uses in the original text, but to figure out a word that would make sense in context. After an appropriate amount of time, the teacher reads the original passage to students, and the class collectively compares answers and assesses how well they did.

Cloze reading is like a puzzle in that it challenges our brains to piece words together in a logical way. Though the exercise does not explicitly require a student to re-read the passage, he will have to do so in order to figure out the missing words. It’s a more restful exercise than repeated readings, not least because it is completed silently. Nonetheless, it can be more stimulating because it is all about finding meaning. When I look around the classroom during a cloze reading, I feel like I can see students’ brains firing away.

Here is cloze reading example from The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White.

On a final note, repeated readings and cloze readings take very little time to complete, so they are relatively easy to work into the school week, and they have tremendous benefit. The key to serving the twin goals of wisdom and virtue is not only making sure the selections come from a Great Book, or perhaps a Classic Story, but also requiring students to articulate something valuable at the end.

And, I find it best when it feels fun for students. They know they’re developing reading virtues, but the exercises don’t feel tiresome. Instead, they feel energizing and empowering, and that is an essential prerequisite for building a love of reading.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Literacy, Wisdom, and Virtue #3: Silent Reading

If given the choice, most children would prefer to be read to indefinitely. It seems easier, especially for early and struggling readers, and it’s engaging and restful. But the time comes for every child to really learn to read independently. I’m not just talking about decoding either. I’m talking about trying to read the likes of Shakespeare and the other Great Authors in one’s own head.

That requires a child to practice the virtue of silent reading. Put differently, he must learn to turn off the noises around him and listen to his own internal voice in conversation with an author.

Silent reading develops the habits of discipline and attention in a very different way than reading aloud. Whereas the latter grabs students in a more sensory, interactive, and energizing way, the former calls on students to be still within themselves.

That can be very hard, even for adults!

Depending on our mood, level of interest in a subject, or the things going on around us, it can be difficult to get into a silent reading rhythm. Here are several strategies that can help.

Classroom Culture

Classrooms should be the ideal place for students to get lost in a book, but that can be hard to facilitate. Not surprisingly, silent reading needs silence of mind and body, and just one restless student can upset the rhythm for an entire class. For that reason, it may be tempting to assign silent reading as homework and use class time for discussions.

I do that plenty of the time, but I still work silent reading into the school day. After all, there is no guaranteeing silent reading is even possible in a child’s home. I moderate it in small chunks at first—ten, fifteen minutes or so—and work up to longer sessions as the year progresses. With time and deliberate oversight, students become stakeholders in a silent reading culture, not least because it means less homework!

Teacher Prompted

Sometimes I want to say, “Okay, turn to chapter six and begin reading in silence.”

But that is not a good way to get a class going. It’s kind of like pushing a beginning swimmer into the deep end. He is so focused on not drowning that he can’t even think about how to use his arms and legs, let alone control his breath. Likewise, the reader pulls and grasps in his head, often drowning in the text before him.

Instead, I generally set up silent reading with some kind of prompt. Perhaps it’s a discussion about the previous chapter and how it positions the next.

Before having students read Act III of William Shakespeare’s King Lear, I might ask, ”Why do you think King Lear believed Regan and Goneril when they said they loved him?…Should their insincerity have been obvious?…Then why didn’t he pick up on it?”

In just a few minutes, students realize that King Lear’s mental state is in a bad way, and it’s about to get much worse. Then when they read Act III on their own, they are primed to recognize King Lear’s final descent into madness.

Other times, I assign a writing exercise that draws out important themes that a story will cover.

Before reading “The Marriage Set” from Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales I like to ask, “Who knows more about marriage, a person who has been married and divorced multiple times or someone who has studied about it in books?” The abstract people from the prompt take on form when students meet the Wife of Bath and the Clerk, two characters who sharply disagree in their views on marriage. Students must then “test” their preconceived notions against the story line.

Another favorite approach is to read the first several paragraphs aloud to the class with them reading along. This draws students into the story and prepares them to successfully finish it on their own. For more on this, return to my previous post on reading aloud.

Directed Reading

One way to aid student comprehension and prompt critical thinking is to give students writing assignments in conjunction with reading. I favor narration exercises, reading guides, and journal entries, though there are many ways teachers can accomplish this.

Reading Guides

Reading guides are teacher-generated questions about the text. If my class is reading a novel, I have a reading guide for each chapter. If we are reading a play, then I might have one for each act or scene. In either case, I write my questions in chronological order, so students can read and answer questions more or less simultaneously. I like this model the best for middle school students because it keys them in to the important details and ideas in the reading.

Here is an example of a reading guide I designed in conjunction with Saint Benedict: The Story of the Father of Western Monks by Mary Fabian Windeatt. Although it’s not considered a Great Book, it is beautifully written and enriches my classical curriculum as a whole. Students read this book entirely on their own. My reading objective in this case is to help students improve their reading comprehension while learning about a great medieval saint. For that reason, a reading guide is ideal.

Narration Exercises

The Latin root narr means “tell,” which is not surprising when one thinks about words like narrator and narrative. Likewise, narration exercises are designed to teach students how to re-tell a story, which is a wonderful way to check their comprehension after reading something. Narrations can be done verbally, but I prefer having students complete them in writing as the end product tends to be more thoughtful and well-planned.

Narrations are somewhat similar to summaries, but they have more of a story voice. Instead of just stringing together sentences that present details from the original story in chronological order, students are encouraged to make the narration exciting and suspenseful. Students may stick with the narrative perspective, but they may also choose to tell the story differently, which can be very fun to read aloud to classmates.

This narration example was completed by a small group of students in connection with reading the story of Genseric the Vandal in Heroes of the Middle Ages by Eva March Tappan. Though also not a Great Book, the stories Tappan tells are beautifully written and historical by design.

Journal Entries

For journal entries, I write deeper, more analytically focused questions that address a central Truth or major theme at play. In response, students end up writing mini-theses about each chapter.

This is a more challenging assignment for students than reading guides and narrations because it requires higher level thinking in addition to basic comprehension and creative writing. Students must synthesize a number of details in the text and develop their own ideas. Moreover, journal entries are open-ended in the sense that students write as much or as little as necessary to answer the questions in a logical, evidence-based, persuasive way.

Here is an example of a journal entry based on questions I designed for Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc by Mark Twain. Unlike the two aforementioned examples, Mark Twain’s book falls squarely in the Great Book genre and demands a higher level of reading.

Informal Assessment

Silent reading provides invaluable insight into students’ reading habits. I may sit at my desk and discreetly “watch” students, or I may walk around and openly “monitor” them. In either case, I am constantly assessing how students read. While I may not be able to hear the mental process going on in a child’s head during silent reading, I can determine much from his body language or just tracking how quickly he turns the page.

“No wonder so-and-so’s journal entries are sparse. He’s reading too fast to absorb much,” I might observe. Or, “I wonder why so-and-so is having so much trouble reading today. He keeps looking around. Better have a chat with him.”

Collectively, these strategies help students develop the virtue of silent reading. I always remind students they will be working on this virtue their entire life, and I make sure to let them know my first reading of each of the works we study together was difficult, too. It’s only through continued work on the same texts that I have learned what I know, and I get more out the books each time I read them. They will, too.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

Literacy, Wisdom, and Virtue #2: Reading Aloud

Words are meant to be spoken. Yes, we write them and read them, but that is really a secondary function. A writer says the words in his head as he composes, just as a reader hears the words in his head as he reads. Thus, even the written word is a type of long-distance conversation.

What’s more, there is something about the sound of writing that either attracts us or repels us.

Just watch the face of a little child when he hears a well-read story. His eyes light up with understanding. His face smiles along with excitement or drops with sadness. He nods to show agreement or frowns to show objection. He feels like he is in the story, like the author wrote it just for him. He thinks about every word and asks questions whenever the reader pauses to take a breath. He is quite literally trying to speak to the author.

Clearly, reading aloud is as instinctual as it is meaningful. All of us want to hear words so we can really listen to them. For that reason, classical educators rely heavily on various types of reading aloud.

Teacher-led

One of the most obvious strategies is teacher-led read-alouds. There are many variations of this depending on the age group. For middle school students, I find it best to have them read along in their books while I read to them. I make a point of modeling critical thinking by pausing frequently and asking questions about the text. My goal is for students to learn how to engage the story deeply by showing them what an internal dialogue with a story looks like.

When reading “The Lady of Shalott” by Alfred Lord Tennyson, I might say something like, “I wonder why he uses bridle in this verse…Can you think of a homonym that we might substitute…Yes, bridal, as in getting married!…What message is Tennyson trying to convey about how the Lady of Shalott feels?…Yes, she wants to find love!”

Another good thing about reading aloud to students is that it establishes a proper pace for them. It slows down the reading process for those who are inclined to speed ahead and pushes others forward who might generally lag behind. As the adage goes, it keeps everyone on the same page, which is very important for generating insightful discussion.

But that does not mean it forces an artificial equilibrium in the classroom. Rather, it scaffolds the learning process in a wonderful way. “Developing” readers get a keener understanding of the text and increase their comprehension. Meanwhile, “advanced” readers are able to more critically analyze the underlying meaning and extract its wisdom.

Likewise, everyone benefits from hearing the appropriate pronunciation of words, use of pauses, and tonal inflections. It shows students what the words are supposed to sound like, which can be difficult when reading is done only in one’s own head. Teacher-led read-alouds model what students should be aspiring toward.

Student-led

But exclusively reading aloud to students is not productive in the long-run. They must also read-aloud themselves. This helps students develop their reading fluency and hear what their own voice sounds like. To this end, it allows them to “check” their own reading in a much more accurate way than simply hearing their voice in their head.

As we all know from experience, something might sound better in our heads than when spoken. So, if we want students to develop to their best potential, they need the most accurate measure of their progress, which comes from reading aloud. They need to hear their own voice, not an idealized internal version of it.

Paired with this, of course, is the teacher’s ability to assess the student. Only by hearing a student can the teacher know where he is struggling, help him master tough words, and point out the right places to pause and inflect.

I once heard an educator say that students should never be forced to read aloud since some are so uncomfortable doing so. I strongly disagree with this view. Well-intentioned as it may be, I think it is a tremendous disservice to students because it denies them a premium opportunity to improve their reading.

What’s more, I think it’s fairly easy to establish a respectful, loving reading culture in a classroom where students feel encouraged and supported. At the outset of the school year, I let my students know that everyone will read throughout the day (and not in a “popcorn” fashion). When called upon, the student stands, and everyone else reads along silently. No one but me is allowed to correct a student.

Some students will always be more comfortable than others, but the inability to “opt-out” and the insistence on a respectful reading culture helps everyone feel “safe.” As the school year progresses, struggling readers improve, gain confidence, and realize that everyone mispronounces words and needs help.

Choral Reading

A variation of student-led read-alouds is choral reading, which consists of the teacher reading aloud along with the whole class in one voice. This is one of my favorites. It lets everyone practice reading at the same time, which is very efficient. Additionally, it provides “cover” for struggling students by letting their mistakes blend into the chorus of voices. Plus, since the teacher is reading, too, the students have a good model to follow along with. Although the teacher cannot as easily hone in on individual mistakes, students automatically self-correct.

Blended Read-Aloud

Another variation is to employ a little bit of each strategy, kind of like the “I read; we read; you read” approach taught in conventional teacher education classes. For example, the teacher might start off reading aloud a chapter in King Arthur and Knights of the Round Table. Then, once the setting and tone are established, turn it over to students for individual read-alouds or choral reading.

Assessment

It is helpful to remember that reading aloud to and with students does not ensure comprehension. Many times have I read and discussed passages with students and felt they understood it only to realize that some number were still grasping with concepts and ideas.

That is where assessments come in handy. They can be in various formal and informal formats, but they should definitely be completed independently. For example, a student might check in verbally with a teacher through a simple conversation, narrate a story in verbal or written form, answer a reading guide, complete a journal entry, or something similar. I like using a combination of all of these with the various Great Books my students read. More on assessments, including examples, in the next post!

Not only does the assessment give the teacher much needed insight into a student’s progress, but it also compels the student to articulate his ideas. After all, that’s the goal—helping students to understand and form their own ideas in the process.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

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.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

The Lady of Shalott #4: Copia Exercise

When I first assigned copia as part of my class’s study of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem, “The Lady of Shallot,” I only meant for them to work on language expression as a relatively quick warm-up to begin Literature class. That is, I wanted them to rewrite Tennyson’s poem in their own words while staying True to his meaning. As expected, most students wrote their copias in paragraph format.

But a few students took it upon themselves to add the extra challenge of writing in verse. I was amazed as they replicated Tennyson’s language patterns, including his rhyme scheme and meter!

Next thing I knew, everyone was trying to do the same thing with their copias. Our “little” writing warm-up had turned into something gigantic. We ended up using entire class periods to annotate and rewrite single stanzas. It looked something like this:

10 minutes discussing the stanza and marking up Tennyson’s original ideas. We would come up with synonyms, unpack symbolism, and unveil as much hidden meaning as we could.

10 minutes to rewrite the stanza as a single sentence. Our goal was to not only illustrate comprehension of Tennyson’s meaning, but to represent it in a beautiful, artistic way.

15 minutes to rewrite the stanza in poetic form. Once again, our goal was to stay true to Tennyson’s original meaning, but we also wanted to capture his rhyme scheme and meter.

10 minutes for students to share their copias, which most were eager to do. They would applaud one another’s readings with “ooohs” and “aaaahs” and “wows,” secretly hoping theirs would outshine the rest. It was a little like an evening at a poetry club.

Since that first group of students, I have played around with how to structure class periods, but I have stuck with the basic method of instruction. From year-to-year, the end products are consistently beautiful.

The following examples are based on Part III, Stanza I of the poem, which introduces Sir Lancelot. Here are Tennyson’s original words.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel’d
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

Once we analyzed the stanza, students were ready to rewrite it as a single sentence.

Here are three short student copias.

EXAMPLE ONE

Sir Lancelot, graced with honor and beauty, flashed across her mirror.

EXAMPLE TWO

She saw a man unlike any other, more handsome and noble, and she longed to reach out to him.

EXAMPLE THREE

The mighty Sir Lancelot emblazed his image on her heart.

Here are three long student copias.

EXAMPLE ONE

In the mirror sparkling clear,
Between the barley far and near,
Between the many emerald tears,
Came he whose very name is feared,
The knight Sir Lancelot.
His shield shone with an image clear,
Of a red-crossed knight with gleaming spear,
Who knelt before his lady dear,
As if for she he fought.

EXAMPLE TWO

From further than the longest night,
Came man on horseback riding light,
A young, handsome, and noble knight,
Not strong in virtue but strong in fight,
The bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight forever sworn
To protecting all by word and sword,
There she stood and could not ignore,
The bold Sir Lancelot.

EXAMPLE THREE

When he rides it gives a fright,
One of Arthur’s near-perfect knights,
They say he’s never lost a fight,
Could cut you down with a single strike,
The brave Sir Lancelot.
She reflects upon his armor’s sheen,
She looks at how his broad sword gleams,
She knows not that her face does beam,
The Lady of Shalott.

Not surprisingly, each copia example reflects a considerable investment of time and energy by the student. Though the writing came easier for some than others, all had to carefully work through the process.

What may be surprising is that each of the students experienced tremendous joy and satisfaction in the midst of toiling through the writing. Of course they were happy when they were done, but so too were they excited as they worked. And that makes for beautiful poetry.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

The Lady of Shalott #3: Memory Work

No matter how well versed my students are in memory work, long narrative poems tend to be a source of anxiety—but only at first. Such is the case with Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem, “The Lady of Shallot” At nineteen stanzas long with nine verses each, it is little wonder my students look downcast when I first tell them we will be memorizing the whole thing.

“That’s a sha-lot of words,” a student once quipped.

Nevertheless, within the first week or so, a sense of pride and accomplishment takes over. Students realize that long memory work is no different than short memory work, provided it is done in a well-paced, strategic manner. Then by the end, they shrug off the assignment like it was no big deal. Of course, that’s not really the case. The work is hard and even relentless, but it stops feeling that way once they understand how to manage it.

But why take on such a big project in the first place? In a world where information is readily available with the swipe of a finger or the tap of a keyboard, why should students invest time in committing anything, let alone a poem about a fictional character, to memory anyways?

As classical educators have long held, the reasons are many!

To begin with, memorizing poetry provides students with a ready store of language patterns to draw from. I have seen this firsthand over and over again. After committing a poem to memory, student writing will showcase many of the new patterns, not to mention a huge stockpile of new vocabulary words.

Similarly, memory work deepens student understanding of the material and allows them to engage it in a more meaningful way than simply reading it and discussing it. By spending so much time imprinting the words into their minds, they come to embody the ideas behind them.

Philosophically speaking, the poems become a type of music for their souls that will stay with them throughout their lives.

“All that is well and good,” one might say, “but give me a more scientific justification!”

Well, here is one. Memory work strengthens the brain and makes it more agile for all sorts of other work. Many of us know this through our own experience. Just think of all the phone numbers your mother stored in her memory before the age of cellphones on top of the endless doctor’s appointments and soccer practices and birthdays and so forth. Compared to a lot of us today, she would be considered a savant. Yet, all she was really doing was making her brain work. The more it worked at memorizing information, the better it got at it.

Research backs this up as well. Take a look at Benedict Carey’s book, How We Learn: The Surprising Truth about When, Where, and Why It Happens. He draws together a vast array of research that shows how the brain gets stronger as it commits more things to memory. What’s more, the possibilities of what and how much one can memorize are seemingly endless.

That brings us to the question of how students should memorize “The Lady of Shalott.” I recommend using a variety of strategies, all of which should be led by the teacher and reinforced at home.

A Little at a Time

The first and most fundamental is chunking the poem into smaller sections. That makes it much more manageable for students because they can work on memorizing a little at a time. “The Lady of Shalott” has four parts, with four stanzas in the first, four in the second, five in the third, and six in the fourth.  As such, I have the class memorize one part at a time and end up with four quizzes throughout the duration of our study. I use the strategies below for each part.

Recite. Recite. Recite.

For several days, we simply recite an entire part of the poem together as a class. They may have a copy out to read along or just listen and join in by ear. Either way, students gain an initial understanding of how the poem sounds and grow accustomed to its rhythm and melody.

Sometimes we recite as a single voice. Other times, I say a line and they repeat it. Still other times, I say the beginning of a line, and they finish it. I like using a combination of these approaches because it forces students to attend more closely to what they are saying. As we get more comfortable, I begin calling on students to lead the class through similar practice.

This type of repeated recitation is absolutely essential in memory work. As such, I encourage students to do similar work at home. Some, however, do not end up needing to do any because the classroom practice is enough.

Memory Moves

The next step is to ask students to come up with motions to go along with the poem. It might seem a little silly at first, especially for older students, but it is a dynamic way for them to visually imagine the story behind the poem and cue their memory in the process. Plus, it tends to be a lot of fun!

To that end, we line up around the classroom, and I assign a couple verses each to pairs of students, being sure to match the order of the verses with their line order. They come up with some kind of “move,” like spreading their arms wide as if they were separating water when they say, “On either side of the river lie.”

After the first pair teaches its move to the rest of the class, the second group goes. Then, we put it all together—words and moves—from the beginning. We repeat this process until we get through the whole poem.

By the end, students have a strong association between the moves and the words, which is mutually reinforcing. I always smile to myself when I see them quietly wriggling their bodies in recollection when it comes time for a quiz.

Writing Makes Perfect

The final step is helping students learn to write it out in proper poetic format, meaning they separate the verses and stanzas appropriately. For this, I have students number each verse in the stanza 1-9 and so forth. I give them the first word or two on the board, and they fill in whatever else they can remember.

This is always harder than the oral recitation, largely because it is completed independently. Students who think they know the whole thing soon realize they don’t. As such, it’s an important “check-point.” We write out the poem many times, and students remember more and more with each practice.

When quiz time rolls around, most students ace it, and of them do well.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

The Lady of Shalott #2: Literary Analysis

“The Lady of Shallot” by Alfred Lord Tennyson is a narrative poem, which simply means it’s a poem that tells a story. It is made up of verses, which are single lines, and stanzas, which are groupings of lines.

Tennyson divided the entire poem into four parts that transition through the plot, beginning with the exposition, moving onto the inciting incident, up through the climax, and back down to its resolution.

Tennyson draws from Arthurian legend but builds on it at the same time. Indeed, his leading lady is unique to the poem. She is a symbolic representation of an artist, perhaps even Tennyson himself.

Literal Interpretation

PART I: EXPOSITION – THE BACKGROUND

Here Tennyson presents Camelot as the setting for his poem. In keeping with the traditions of Arthurian legend, it is an idyllic kingdom with a beautiful natural landscape divided in half by a flowing river. The mysterious Island of Shalott and its tall grey tower stand strong against the current, presenting an image that is at once part of, yet separate from everything else. It is believed that a fair damsel is imprisoned in the tower, but none have visited it to be sure. Only fieldworkers can attest to her existence because they have heard her singing in the early mornings.

PART II: INCITING INCIDENT – THE PROBLEM

In this section, Tennyson takes us inside the tower and reveals the Lady of Shalott. He tells us she is cursed to live there and weave a never-ending tapestry of everything going on in the world outside. As such, she cannot participate in what she sees. To make matters worse, she does not even get to look at the world directly through the window. Instead, she must look at it through a mirror. The images then, beautiful as they may be, are really no more than shadows. She delights in them nonetheless, only occasionally feeling left out when she watches happy couples in love.

PART III: CLIMAX – THE BREAKING POINT

The difficulty of being set apart from the world reaches a breaking point when the Lady of Shalott sees an image of the handsome Sir Lancelot riding across her mirror. She is so captivated by him that she notices every last detail of his person. In fact, Tennyson uses four whole stanzas to describe his appearance. In the fifth and final stanza of this section, the Lady of Shalott cannot take it anymore. She has to see him directly—not as a reflection or a shadow, but as a real-life person. No sooner does she turn away from the mirror and look at him through the window, then her tapestry disappears, and she is doomed to death. “The curse is come upon me,” she cries.

PART IV: RESOLUTION – THE “FIX” (OR LACK THEREOF)

Knowing her end is imminent, the Lady of Shalott descends the tower and finds a boat to serve as her funeral barge. She lies down, placing a name plate upon her chest, and floats down the river toward Camelot. All of nature is wrought with grief as she slowly dies. A storm rises up; the trees turn pale; and the banks complain with its crashing waves. All the while, the Lady of Shalott sings her last song, marked with sadness and grief. When her boat finally runs ashore, the people discover her dead body and learn her identity. Sir Lancelot, ever the heart-breaker, remarks how lovely she is and asks God to bestow a blessing upon her.

Figurative Interpretation

As if its literal meaning is not fascinating enough on its own, Tennyson has written much symbolism into his poem. He tells us (between the lines) that the Lady of Shalott symbolizes the artist.

Both are tasked with the special job of representing Goodness, Beauty, and Truth in the world. The Lady of Shalott does so through her tapestry, while other artists might do so through a variety of mediums like drawing, writing, and singing. Obviously, some artists are better than others, and the best ones are able to look at the world with objectivity. Put differently, the better an artist is able to see things through the eyes of God—our first artist and ultimate judge—the better he is able to represent it in his work.

Herein lies a central point. Goodness, Beauty, and Truth are not relative terms or values, nor are they subjective. Likewise, they do not change with the times like fashion trends. They are objective virtues, meant to be obtained in absolute perfection.

The Lady of Shalott knows this. Thus, to be a good artist and maintain her objectivity, she must be set apart from everyone and everything. The moment she engages the world directly by looking out the window, she forms her own subjective view, which is entirely focused on Sir Lancelot. She no longer notices the willows, or the aspens, or the little breezes. Nor does she see Sir Lancelot in his fullness, meaning what his soul looks like on the inside. Instead, she fixates on his handsome good looks, while failing to unmask his vices.

Though we may feel happy for her that she is free from the tower, she has become imprisoned anew with her own subjectivity. Tennyson tells us that as she floats down the river, “Her eyes were darkened wholly.” Thus, she loses her vision, both literally and figuratively, and dies.

One must wonder if Tennyson felt a little like the Lady of Shalott. Perhaps we all do at times. Indeed, my students often find similarities with their own lives. They note how music and movies and other realities of contemporary society can weaken their ability to see the difference between right and wrong, virtue and vice. The more they are exposed to certain things, the less they are able to judge them fairly.

Each of us, artists in our ways, continually struggle to reconcile the pressures of the world and the demands of our unique callings. Unlike the Lady of Shalott, however, we are not doomed, for we have the blessing of free will to navigate our way.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

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.

Posted on by Stephanie McGann

The Art of Writing #3: Language Expression

Copia is an incredible way to teach students how to stretch language. When used with the goal of language expression, students are no longer bound to a particular language pattern. Instead, they take a model and try to rewrite it any way they want—as long as it stays True to the original meaning. 

I begin by selecting a passage from something we read in Literature and providing handouts to the students. Here is an example from the 2002 Dover Thrift Edition of Mark Twain’s Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc.

We sat looking vacantly at each other, and it was easy to see that no one there was comfortable. The longer we sat so, the more deadly still that stillness got to be; and when the wind began to moan around the house presently, it made me sick and miserable, and I wished I had been brave enough to be a coward this time” (131).  

Our first step as a class is to annotate the selection. This requires close reading and analysis to uncover its deeper meaning. We circle, underline, and mark-up the selection in all manner of ways. I always remind students to pay particular attention to words and phrases that have figurative meaning. Students can do this on their own, but I find it more beneficial to guide them through it.  

Once we have a solid understanding of what Twain or some other author is trying to say, we then rewrite it in our own words. It sounds simple, but it’s not at all, namely because students need to try to make their copias more beautiful than the model. 

“Like I can write something better than Twain!” most of them think to begin with.

What’s more, their copia should not be a summary. Rather, it should be written as new text for the story itself. So if the author wrote in the first person, then the student should do so as well. Likewise, if the text is drawn from a historical document, then the student needs to imitate its style. In that way, students really get into the art of writing.

I like having students rewrite the model multiple times in a notebook before they come up with two final versions to submit. One final version is a “short” copia, meaning it has condensed the original ideas. Another final version is a “long” copia, meaning it has fully developed the original ideas.

Here are three short copia examples from students.

EXAMPLE ONE

We gawked awkwardly at each other as the silence grew. I was sick of the wind and of my cowardice.

EXAMPLE TWO

We stared gloomily at each other in the dark, musty, dungeon-like room. Like France afraid once more, we cringed at the wind’s cries, and I was sorry not to be able to show my fear.

EXAMPLE THREE

It was cold, cold and creepy. That place was haunted by death and despair. I wanted to leave. I wanted to go to bed and leave that dreadful room, but I was not brave enough to admit how scared I was. Curse this human pride!

Here are three long copia examples.

EXAMPLE ONE

We, as faithless men, waited for someone else to make a move. It was evident no one was prepared for that awful room. We were all afraid and uncertain of what was to come. Why did we go that place? Our feeling of discomfort grew to regret. I could hear only silence, yet I saw much. I saw once courageous men give up and simply forget their dignity. I regret my torpid state at that time. I wish I had the courage to face reality. I was a coward, and fear shackled me to complete uncertainty. All hope was lost—for us, for France, for Joan. 

EXAMPLE TWO

We stared at each other, emotionless and uneasy. We were afraid, nervous, and uncomfortable because the task of killing the ghost was too hard. The stillness in the room crept up and lurked around us. We were aching from the deadly stillness. The wind that howled all around added to the effect and made us lose more of our bravery. I suffered immensely and regretted not being able to stand up to my fear of the ghost. I was too scared at that time and should have rather given in to being called a coward than stand that unbearable adventure. 

EXAMPLE THREE

There we sat looking at one another with no real intent, yet behind the eyes of each man was a look of fear that only one truly frightened would have. The more we sat there, the more we felt the presence of the ghost. Each man was waiting for something to happen, yet all we could do was listen to the howl of the wind as it blew about the house. All the men had a sick or pale look about them, and they seemed to shake with fear. Each wished he could have been brave enough to admit he was scared of the ghost.

As you can see, students end up with something truly beautiful in the end!

Copia is so powerful because it lets us stand on the shoulders of great authors. We may not be able to come up with the model text, but we can certainly play with it and stretch it. With enough practice, we just may join their league someday.