Why the Bildungsroman Is Quintessential to a Teenager’s English Studies.
“Au contraire, Tyler. You most definitely will use this past Year 12”
While I was in high school, our English department was lackadaisical in how and what it taught. One week we’d be reading To Kill a Mockingbird, the next we’d be rote learning adjective order. Because of this, I never really understood English. Sure, I know that Lee says that racism is bad (which is obvious today), but how does this help me, a (then) 14-year-old, to improve my life?
School: I don’t know, but here’s a ukulele.
O-okay, but why am I learning what I am?
School: You put your fingers he- not there, here *bends fingers*
Ow! But, this has literally no value in my adult life. None whatsoever.
School: Now, strum.
Just…answer the question. Why do I have to do this?
School: It’s important!
…For? I don’t see the value in To Kill a Mockingbird.
School: Oh, so you want to be racist?!
What? No! Besides, you’re straw-manning my concerns. I’m just worried that maybe you’re wasting your students’ time for four hours a week spoon-feeding them your version of perfect morality. Maybe you’re just perpetuating what they absorb in a world where they can access a wealth of opinions and information in mere seconds. Maybe you’re just making sure the next generation accepts your obsolete ideologies. Maybe you’re nothing but the implementation of institutionalised propaganda.
School: Ooh. Big words. Do you kiss your mother with that verbose mouth?
Yes, I do. That’s irrelevant. Look, even though I graduated thirty years ago, that doesn’t mean I can’t discuss what’s taught in today’s classrooms. Because effectively, they’re the exact same when it comes to understanding students.
School: Sure thing, Mr Storkbill of ’89. Why don’t you tell that audience of yours about your fascist prejudice, whilst we back up our side with evidence that classrooms have, in fact, improved since you’ve left. How bow dah.
Christ, the only thing more obsolete than your ideals of student life is your use of memes. When I say that you don’t understand students, I’m saying that your idea of how they respond to the adversity around them is so out of left field, it’s broken someone’s nose in the parking lot of the stadium.
I remember Principal Smith’s end-of-school address to all the Year 12s. As he rabbited on about moving on with our lives and some greater purpose, I couldn’t help but think about how he really hadn’t done a good job at preparing us for “out there”. Given, half the room were either asleep or cracking jokes, how could he feel we were ready for the world? Sure, our uniforms looked swank, but did he really feel that after shoving quadratic equations, ukulele chords, and To Kill a Mockingbird down our throats, we were suddenly ready to combat what lay beyond the safety of those decrepit fences? It seemed like he only stood up there because he was paid to.
A few years ago, I read an article about how Nossal High School were implementing bildungsroman novels into their English curriculum. Meanwhile, Melbourne High School’s had slowly been phasing the novels out of theirs. Nossal’s mean ATAR had been rising, while MHS’ had been waning slightly. If MHS were a person, I’d share Snaics’ sentiment.
Bildungsroman is a genre which depicts protagonists who, when faced with adversity, learn to cope with it and move forward, effectively growing by the denouement. By incorporating them into lessons and then analysing them, students can gain an understanding of why the adult world is so different from the one they see. Conversely, removing it would drastically impair students, as they would still be left clueless about the adult world while they transition into it.
However, for the bildungsroman to effective in a classroom, they need to have enough substance to analyse. I.e., they need to have multiple avenues for students to explore, which they can decipher based on how much they relate to a theme, whether it be grief, death, or friendships. Here are some suggestions for class texts from when I was a teenager.
Rob Reiner’s Stand by Me (based on Stephen King’s The Body)
Gordie Lachance (Wil Wheaton) is a reserved 12-year-old who is looked down upon in a household focused on his older brother’s athletic achievements. His parent’s dismissal of him is only exacerbated by his brother’s death. When he and friends hear of the famous corpse of Ray Brower, they venture for it in search of infamy. As the boys come closer to the body, they come to terms with the world away from the influences of their hometown. They return to Castle Rock changed boys.
Reiner’s and King’s texts both show how best to cope with tribulation. Students may notice that Chris and Gordie are the only people to cry in the film, and how they both stray from what is seen as normal by their families. They may also notice how Gordie’s father prefers to eschew his emotional turmoil, while Gordie seems to accept in in his conversations with Chris. They might then conclude that Reiner suggests that tribulation should not be combatted with machoism and a neglect of emotions, but a vulnerability that allows for maturity.
However, students may also wish to investigate the role of death in Gordie’s life. Prior to the boys’ journey, they see the body as a mean to become “famous” — Vern even brings a comb to appeal to the media-to-ensue. When the boys finally encounter the corpse, they realise the selfishness in using the body for fame. Students may recall Gordie’s own experience with death, and how he approaches the loss of life. They could then extrapolate that Reiner and King show that death, and the loss of life, is tragic, and should not be taken lightly.
Having my granddad die the lesson we finished Lee’s novel, I just couldn’t focus on Atticus’ life story, while I was struggling through a part of mine. Had I been studying Stand by Me, I would have paid more attention to the lesson Reiner was trying to tell about dealing with loss, and I would’ve been more invested in what Ms Yuletide was trying to teach. I related to a white middle-class teen much more than a fifty-year-old attorney — you’d have gotten me to learn with the former.
Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Stephen Chbosky, in The Perks of Being a Wallflower, perfectly encapsulates the feeling of trying to find one’s feet in an unbeknownst environment. It tells the story of introverted Charlie barely coping with the multiple travesties in his life. Guided by social butterflies Charlie, Sam, Mary-Anne, he learns about multiple ways to cope with adversity. Rather than shying away from his issues, seeking refuge in the recipient of his letters, he learns to confront his fears by “participating fully in [his] life.”
Like Stand by Me, Chbosky’s novel excellently describes the precariousness of teenage social life. He does not refrain from exploring topics taboo to the classroom — sex, drugs, violence, etc. — yet, Chbosky maintains a mature position apropos of these aspects of the adult world. Too often, young adult novels are written edgily, filled with exaggerations and glorifications of grave subjects. Why? Because teenagers think edginess equates to coolness. In Year 4, kids in my class would fight over who knew the most offensive curses. This carried on despite there being a ‘no cussing’ rule enforced heavily on school grounds. It’s ironic, how an attempt to mitigate an issue only exacerbated it. Chbosky’s novel is the antithesis to this approach. To demonstrate the severity of what teenagers find funny, Chbosky imposes these issues unto Charlie, effectively forcing the reader to empathise with a victim of tragedy. Rather than telling teens not to vape and putting up ‘no vaping’ signs, schools should ask their students to imagine a loved one being harmed by what they think is trendy. When students analyse this method of persuasion, they can further understand Chbosky’s authorial intentions; e.g., Charlie’s attitude towards sex changes as he realises the gravity of sexual assault, and not because someone says that sex is bad.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower is an exemplary analysis-worthy text also because of its use of intertextuality to enhance its delivering of themes. Throughout the novel, Charlie creates multiple mixtapes, which incorporate songs like The Smiths’ Asleep (which reflects a desire to find a place “better than this” (from the song], portraying Charlie “want[ing] to die”), Ride’s Vapour Trail (which reflects his love for Sam), Pink Floyd’s Another Brick in the Wall, Part II (which reflects the other kids’ hatred of the school system), and Genesis’ Dusk (which reflects the monotony of Charlie’s life without his friends). Additionally, Charlie’s English teacher assigns him multiple books to read as additional work; e.g., the Lee novel (which discusses injustice), J.D. Sallinger’s The Catcher in the Rye (which mirrors Charlie’s ventures in sex and alcohol), John Knowles’ A Separate Peace (which reflects the conflicts in Charlie’s relationships), and Henry David Thoreau’s Walden (which reflects Charlie’s more philosophical thoughts). If students decide to analyse these too, they can understand the themes’ impact on Charlie’s character arc to a greater extent. For example, by comparing Charlie to Holden from The Catcher in the Rye, students may notice that both characters start as social pariahs. However, by noticing Charlie’s support group and Holden’s lack thereof, one can conclude that friendship networks are necessary in transitioning from adolescence to adulthood.
School: But we can’t put a book with sex and alcohol in the syllabus! You know what teenagers are like! Rebellious, angsty, and in need of discipline. They can’t be exposed to such filth!
Why are you suddenly concerned about how they feel? The reason they feel distant from the work you shove their way is because they’re internally conflicted. Do they sacrifice their schoolwork for clout? Or do they become a recluse to get a good ATAR?
School: Well, that’s obvious. A good ATAR is the key to success.
I mean, sure. A good ATAR is a good thing. But isn’t a healthy social life a good thing, too? In fact, this is what Chbosky’s elucidates. Charlie is introduced as meek, struggling to cope with the stresses of school and his best friend’s suicide. But once he meets Bill and Sam, he’s encouraged to stray away from his wallflower status. He goes to multiple parties, where he strengthens his bonds with Sam, Patrick, and Mary-Elizabeth. The loss of his friends in an argument is what leaves his mental state to deteriorate, which worsens his attitude towards Bill’s extra work. Thus, it can be deduced (by both school boards and students) that Chbosky emphasises the importance of a healthy social life.
School: Are you talking back to us?
Look, I’ve tried my best to convince you to care about your students’ wellbeing. If you want to keep your dated curricula, that’s up to you. However, if you want your pupils to learn rather than absorb the information you provide to them, then I would suggest a more personal approach, that incorporates their social lives into the classroom. That way, you can ensure a smooth transition into the world beyond your gates.
And to the MHS English faculty, please realise the damage you’re initiating before it’s too late. Then you can make sure you’re really about more than just marks.
-Tyler.
