He Came From Minnesota
Hello, American Literature students.
First off, congratulations to the approximately 80% of you who completed the work for week one. I was particularly proud to see the humor in the parodies of "This is just to say." I am always reminded, when I read this poem, of an incident involving a certain child of mine and some Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies. I woke up one morning, this particular child was about three, and found that the box of cookies had been torn open, the plastic sleeves ripped and scattered, and all the cookies gone the way of all cookies. I noticed a pre-literate scrawl on the box. "What does it say?" I asked the obviously guilty party. "It says, 'I did it, and I'm not sorry.'"
Second, the AP students are a bit jealous, I would surmise. They may actually look wistfully in your direction, while maintaining proper social distancing, and mumble angrily. "Why can't WE read Gatsby?" Well, AP, you can. I'm not physically restraining you. I highly recommend the experience. I'm just not teaching the book in AP Lit.
Along those lines, I will say that a lot of my favorite books, a lot of the books which formed my aesthetic, a lot of the books which made me into the English teacher I am, are books that I read OUTSIDE of the curriculum: Vonnegut, Salinger, To Kill A Mockingbird (which was on my mom's shelf, which I grabbed one evening because I'd heard the title, which I read all in one sitting), Melville (too subversive for my conservative little high school), and, yes, The Great Gatsby.
The documentary you will be watching will explain the dedication--Zelda was the author's wife. The author AND the narrator share a common trait: both are from Minnesota. Both come from the hinterlands and have a strange, outsiders perspective on this strange New York/ Long Island scene. Our narrator, Nick Carraway, even has a strange perspective on himself. By the end of the week, I'm going to ask you if Nick is a trustworthy narrator. Here's a hint: if an English teacher asks a question like that, the answer is nearly always NO. Think about it for just a moment. Who is it who can offer a completely trustworthy narration? Who isn't blind to his own motives from time to time?
After giving up some background information, our narrator goes to a little party. I was told by students who either would know or were trying to make me appear foolish that this little party--four people--would be called a "kick back" in the parlance of today's youth. Whether or not this is true, the word is self explanatory and gets at the heart of the matter. We get a certain insight into all the characters as interact in this bubble. What do you make of a man, a large man, who leans into everyone he meets? What do you make of a woman who speaks softly to force everyone to lean towards her to hear? What about a woman who does everything she can to appear aloof?
Gatsby enters at the very end, though we don't know for certain who he is, and does something very interesting.
Oh, we're going to have so much fun.
First off, congratulations to the approximately 80% of you who completed the work for week one. I was particularly proud to see the humor in the parodies of "This is just to say." I am always reminded, when I read this poem, of an incident involving a certain child of mine and some Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies. I woke up one morning, this particular child was about three, and found that the box of cookies had been torn open, the plastic sleeves ripped and scattered, and all the cookies gone the way of all cookies. I noticed a pre-literate scrawl on the box. "What does it say?" I asked the obviously guilty party. "It says, 'I did it, and I'm not sorry.'"
Second, the AP students are a bit jealous, I would surmise. They may actually look wistfully in your direction, while maintaining proper social distancing, and mumble angrily. "Why can't WE read Gatsby?" Well, AP, you can. I'm not physically restraining you. I highly recommend the experience. I'm just not teaching the book in AP Lit.
Along those lines, I will say that a lot of my favorite books, a lot of the books which formed my aesthetic, a lot of the books which made me into the English teacher I am, are books that I read OUTSIDE of the curriculum: Vonnegut, Salinger, To Kill A Mockingbird (which was on my mom's shelf, which I grabbed one evening because I'd heard the title, which I read all in one sitting), Melville (too subversive for my conservative little high school), and, yes, The Great Gatsby.
The documentary you will be watching will explain the dedication--Zelda was the author's wife. The author AND the narrator share a common trait: both are from Minnesota. Both come from the hinterlands and have a strange, outsiders perspective on this strange New York/ Long Island scene. Our narrator, Nick Carraway, even has a strange perspective on himself. By the end of the week, I'm going to ask you if Nick is a trustworthy narrator. Here's a hint: if an English teacher asks a question like that, the answer is nearly always NO. Think about it for just a moment. Who is it who can offer a completely trustworthy narration? Who isn't blind to his own motives from time to time?
After giving up some background information, our narrator goes to a little party. I was told by students who either would know or were trying to make me appear foolish that this little party--four people--would be called a "kick back" in the parlance of today's youth. Whether or not this is true, the word is self explanatory and gets at the heart of the matter. We get a certain insight into all the characters as interact in this bubble. What do you make of a man, a large man, who leans into everyone he meets? What do you make of a woman who speaks softly to force everyone to lean towards her to hear? What about a woman who does everything she can to appear aloof?
Gatsby enters at the very end, though we don't know for certain who he is, and does something very interesting.
Oh, we're going to have so much fun.
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