When I was a pre-teen, admittedly fifty years ago and some, I read the entirety of John Steinbeck’s works over summer vacation. Cannery Row was always my favorite. There were themes of social inequality in that book, but they were presented in context and with elevated prose, which was the hook for me. There was also Ray Bradbury’s “I Sing the Body Electric” and all over the rest of his work, which I devoured, and then as I got older, the Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Hobbit. When I turned fifteen, my single mother was gifted with a membership in the Literary Guild of American, and so that summer I was reading Wallace Stegner’s “Angle of Repose.” I knew not enough to know I was in over my head. My reading also took me into the horrifying “The Exorcist” and “In Cold Blood,” which mother forbade me from reading but alas she went to sleep early, and I did not. Then there was Steven King, and S.E. Hilton’s “The Outsiders” which I am giving to my eleven year old nephew who needs a reminder that we are all outsiders and to not lose heart. I also read and instantly loved “A Farewell To Arms” and still have that edition. A year ago I happened upon a young cousin’s summer novel which he had been assigned, and it was of a piece with some of the dreck you mentioned, everyone’s gay and everyone’s a feminist and we are pounding it into your skulls instead of leading you into enchantment and a lifelong love of reading. An entire generation has been impoverished and we are turning into a dark, artless society. I tracked down an original version of E.B. White’s “Stuart Little;” the most charming book I ever read, the image of little mouse rolling his own cigarettes gave me a way to see myself traveling that rocky road of adolescence to the tantalizing freedom of adulthood, and sent it to my cousin.
Yes, our kids are assigned or asked to choose from artless "coming of age" books that are neither well-written nor fun to read, focused squarely on political/social issues and not the commonly shared joys and struggles and adventures of being human, unconnected to ideological causes.
I forgot to mention that throughout this time, we had a subscription to the New Yorker (and I had one myself for decades until it became such nauseatingly progressive tool.) That lively writing shaped my tastes - how I wanted to be a sophisticate like Pauline Kael, a foodie like Ruth Reichl, or a thoughtful sex fiend like John Updike! Not one item offered on that tasting menu of prose had a dipping sauce of rancid political oiliness. We also subscribed to the LA Times and the death of the morning paper in the city in which I now live is again, impoverishing. There is no better way to grow a love of reading than having a Sunday paper strewn about the coffee table. Young Restorer of Truth, what I know you wouldn’t give to have your children live in a world less assaultive on your values. I fear my own baby grandson will have no notion about what I am speaking because all of our history must, to the forces of darkness, be erased.
Yes, I grew up with the Sunday paper covering sofas, tables, etc! And always a mind full of mystery book adventure. Life was full of potential for us. Not so, for this generation that is being led by the nose to the gulag.
“I'm thick 'cause I be eatin' oats"--Maybe the rapper was influenced by Shakespeare: "I am fain to dine & sup with water & bran, I dare not for my head fill my belly, one fruitful meal would set me to it."--Lucio, MEASURE FOR MEASURE, Act 4 Scene 2
Ha! Shakespeare exposure would be a small miracle. Unfortunately, his writings are being canceled here and abroad, so future rappers likely won't even have the opportunity to enjoy such inspiration.
When I was ten years old I was in the operetta The GIGO Effect, GIGO being GarbageIn, GarbageOut. The "students" and I beat the AI by feeding it trash until it crashed.
I will have to look up that operetta. I'll never understand why people think AI is a good idea--it's still programmed by humans, and probably not the "free speech" types.
When I was a pre-teen, admittedly fifty years ago and some, I read the entirety of John Steinbeck’s works over summer vacation. Cannery Row was always my favorite. There were themes of social inequality in that book, but they were presented in context and with elevated prose, which was the hook for me. There was also Ray Bradbury’s “I Sing the Body Electric” and all over the rest of his work, which I devoured, and then as I got older, the Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Hobbit. When I turned fifteen, my single mother was gifted with a membership in the Literary Guild of American, and so that summer I was reading Wallace Stegner’s “Angle of Repose.” I knew not enough to know I was in over my head. My reading also took me into the horrifying “The Exorcist” and “In Cold Blood,” which mother forbade me from reading but alas she went to sleep early, and I did not. Then there was Steven King, and S.E. Hilton’s “The Outsiders” which I am giving to my eleven year old nephew who needs a reminder that we are all outsiders and to not lose heart. I also read and instantly loved “A Farewell To Arms” and still have that edition. A year ago I happened upon a young cousin’s summer novel which he had been assigned, and it was of a piece with some of the dreck you mentioned, everyone’s gay and everyone’s a feminist and we are pounding it into your skulls instead of leading you into enchantment and a lifelong love of reading. An entire generation has been impoverished and we are turning into a dark, artless society. I tracked down an original version of E.B. White’s “Stuart Little;” the most charming book I ever read, the image of little mouse rolling his own cigarettes gave me a way to see myself traveling that rocky road of adolescence to the tantalizing freedom of adulthood, and sent it to my cousin.
Yes, our kids are assigned or asked to choose from artless "coming of age" books that are neither well-written nor fun to read, focused squarely on political/social issues and not the commonly shared joys and struggles and adventures of being human, unconnected to ideological causes.
They need literature! We all need literature! We need Ann Patchett to write YA books!
I forgot to mention that throughout this time, we had a subscription to the New Yorker (and I had one myself for decades until it became such nauseatingly progressive tool.) That lively writing shaped my tastes - how I wanted to be a sophisticate like Pauline Kael, a foodie like Ruth Reichl, or a thoughtful sex fiend like John Updike! Not one item offered on that tasting menu of prose had a dipping sauce of rancid political oiliness. We also subscribed to the LA Times and the death of the morning paper in the city in which I now live is again, impoverishing. There is no better way to grow a love of reading than having a Sunday paper strewn about the coffee table. Young Restorer of Truth, what I know you wouldn’t give to have your children live in a world less assaultive on your values. I fear my own baby grandson will have no notion about what I am speaking because all of our history must, to the forces of darkness, be erased.
Yes, I grew up with the Sunday paper covering sofas, tables, etc! And always a mind full of mystery book adventure. Life was full of potential for us. Not so, for this generation that is being led by the nose to the gulag.
“I'm thick 'cause I be eatin' oats"--Maybe the rapper was influenced by Shakespeare: "I am fain to dine & sup with water & bran, I dare not for my head fill my belly, one fruitful meal would set me to it."--Lucio, MEASURE FOR MEASURE, Act 4 Scene 2
Ha! Shakespeare exposure would be a small miracle. Unfortunately, his writings are being canceled here and abroad, so future rappers likely won't even have the opportunity to enjoy such inspiration.
When I was ten years old I was in the operetta The GIGO Effect, GIGO being GarbageIn, GarbageOut. The "students" and I beat the AI by feeding it trash until it crashed.
I will have to look up that operetta. I'll never understand why people think AI is a good idea--it's still programmed by humans, and probably not the "free speech" types.