Finally got around to the movie theater this past weekend. Saw The Count of Monte Cristo on Saturday and The Fellowship of the Ring on Sunday. COMC was good, and I was awestruck by LOTR.
During the course of the weekend I was reminded of the fact that I haven't actually read The Count of Monte Cristo. Speaking of which:
Y'know, one of the things that's immeasurably sad about getting a "modern education" is the deep resentment many people I've met form for "the classics". This lack of having read 'defining works' is ingrained culturally today: the TV character who hasn't read "the classics" is the everywoman, the one we all identify with, maybe even going head-to-head with the artsy snob who talks about Descartes like they had dinner together last week. As if.
The whole thing's a shame, and I'm left oddly grateful that I managed to slip through the cracks by going to 3 different high schools, and avoided reading a great many things I might now hate, otherwise. At this later date, I can come to them as a reader first, and an analyst second -- which is how most of the intial readers of these works would have come to them. As readers.
Now, on the one hand, it's important to have exposure to the literary history of "Western Civilisation". One of the ways we teach and learn "critical thought" is by analyzing literature. So all that paper writing on Oedipus or Othello or Captain Ahab was an important part of the process of trying to teach you how to think coherently, maybe even articulately.
In fact, reflecting back on those high school years, science classes -- another way of teaching and learning to think critically -- were usually optional in later years of study. English for 4 years, but science you could get away with just 2. That means the stereotypical science-avoiding teen of my youth slogged through The Red Badge of Courage and Of Mice and Men, but managed to get out of chemistry and physics. So the only consistent exposure to critical thought during high school years was via literary criticism.
Furthermore, literature as a whole represents a common language, or set of symbols, for relating to other people. If you haven't read Great Expectations, you can't use it as a way to relate to someone else who has, and thereby begin or further a relationship with them. Having a common ground is important, a basis for forming partnerships or communities. It's the underlying concept behind "pop culture". Popular culture -- how many of you discuss TV shows with coworkers? When you do, you're interacting with them, solidifying your relationship, demonstrating your membership of the same community by properly using this common set of symbols.
On the other hand, forcing overanalysis and armtwisting someone into reading something leaves you with a person [or can leave you with a person] who resents the thing they've just read, won't remember it for long as a result, and quite possibly dislikes reading. Maybe consciously, maybe not.
What does this have to do with The Count of Monte Cristo and The Fellowship of the Ring? Lots, and not much. Both are works by very important writers who should be read not just because they're great stories, but because they are part of our common literary heritage, and thus part of what makes "Western Civilisation" what it is, and we should know them. From this perspective, I'm glad to see cinematic versions of tales like The Man in the Iron Mask, and The Three Musketeers being brought to life via the most widely used distribution channels available to popular culture: film and television.
Of course, I'm also a dedicated reader, so I could go on for hours about how each and every one of these tales are infinitely better if you read them rather than see them. Go on, be daring, read a book. But you know what? Go see the movie, too. It's OK. Let your love for the film, be it based on work by J.K. Rowling, Tolkien, Dumas, whomever, serve as your introduction to the author as well. Read the movie, see the book.
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