I’ll deal here with a number of queries from readers. Though I would first of all say that, like Geoffrey Warner, I think the state has no business deciding what schools should teach, and if the state hadn’t destroyed the state school system between 1965 and 1975, no such idea would ever have been proposed or adopted.
Next, I’ll reproduce in full a comment from Sue Sims, which seems to me to deal very well with the difference between what is on the official English Literature curriculum, and what is actually taught, and how its actually taught. It also disposes of complacent postings such as that by Mr ‘Wiseacre’, who amusingly believes that because something is on the syllabus, it is actually being taught to everyone.
Many people don’t realise just how optional much of the curriculum is in practice (though the frequent use of the word ‘option’ might offer a clue), how much provision differs from school to school (though the poorer the area, the worse things will be) and how many schools simply don’t offer proper classes in subjects more old-fashioned readers might regard as vital.
Something similar operates in History, which is simply not taken as a subject by many older pupils.
But here is what Sue Sims says:
‘ I've been teaching English, mainly in the maintained sector [NB this means the state sector], since 1975, and see this all at first hand. First, the syllabuses set by the contemporary exam boards do indeed contain a reasonable number of ‘classics’. As ‘David Wiseacre’ noted, GCSE pupils following the most popular English Literature specification of the largest board, AQA, can study 'Great Expectations' if their teacher so desires; alternatively, they could read 'Pride and Prejudice', 'Wuthering Heights', 'Animal Farm' or 'The Withered Arm and other Wessex Tales' (short stories by Thomas Hardy).
‘The first thing to note, however, is that many comprehensive schools don't offer English Literature at all, or only to top bands. Hence the Government, years ago, introduced a compulsory literature element into the other main English GCSE(s), requiring the study of Shakespeare and a text from 'the English literary heritage', plus a text drawn from another culture (which includes the USA). So all's well? Not really.
‘Teachers faced with a hostile set of teenagers, many semi-literate and for whom reading is alien, will choose the easy options - not because we're lazy, PC or left-wing, but because we have to help our pupils get some sort of qualification. Shakespeare is compulsory, certainly, but it's assessed by 'controlled assessment' - an essay written over three or four hours in class time, where the title is set by the teacher (following general exam board themes). Thus it's not only possible but highly probable that a teacher with a low-ability class will teach, say, 'Macbeth' by showing them one of the film versions, reading and discussing two or three scenes relevant to the essay being set, and providing the class with a template for answering the question.
‘What's more, even when one's teaching English Literature to more motivated pupils, there's a temptation, succumbed to by a majority, to choose the shortest text going. Hence 'Of Mice and Men' - one can actually read the whole thing in class in three weeks, obviating the need for pupils to read it on their own (which many won't do). Ditto 'Animal Farm' (four and a half hours’ reading); and the Hardy short stories are a Godsend, as one can choose just two of the stories, set the controlled assessment on them, et voilà!
‘Gove (or his advisors) is trying to prevent this minimalist approach to GCSE English. Most English teachers are horrified by it, for a whole variety of reasons, ranging from a fear that the new syllabus will be unteachable to disaffected pupils (which it will, of course, though it's not just English which suffers from that problem) to annoyance that many easy options have been removed. I'm neutral now, no longer teaching GCSE, but can understand both Gove's determination and my colleagues' outrage. It will be interesting to see whether the new criteria make any difference to the undeniable ignorance and apathy of most young people towards our literary heritage. Personally, I doubt it.’
For instance, it is (for instance) perfectly possible to ‘study’, and take an examination in a Shakespeare play without ever having read the full text, which was absolutely not the case when I was doing ‘O’ and ‘A’ levels. GCSE papers recently seen by me include texts from Shakespeare, among several more modern authors, but do not appear to oblige those taking them to answer a Shakespeare question. For the reasons stated above, it would not be surprising if teachers decided to follow other, more simple texts.
Examinees are also in many cases allowed, even obliged, to take texts in to the exam, a provision which makes people of my generation ( who already chuckle at the use of calculators in schools, often obligatory) emit hollow laughter. We had to read and memorise, if we wished to quote – and we were expected to do so if we wanted good grades.
I’ll stick by my point. You might still get a bit of Shakespeare or Dickens (though not much) in the secretly selective ‘comprehensives’ to which the middle classes resort, and in some fee-paying schools. But I don’t think the children of the poor get taught much Shakespeare (or much history) in today’s Britain.
Mr Gribben asks me: ‘Do you really think that in our lifetime there will be a united Irish republic, ruled from Dublin (via Berlin, but that's a different matter)? I just feel that the imposition of Dublin rule on the north, the flying of the Tricolor from official buildings and inevitable triumphalism by IRA supporters, would lead to such a vast upsurge in bloodletting that people won't force it through. There will be efforts to dislocate NI from Britain of course, viz the flag issue, and to make it more of a European province than a British one. But actually to go the whole hog and try to impose Dublin rule on the Unionists? I doubt people have the stomach for the chaos that will ensue.’
I ‘feel’ much the same, and have a thousand times stated (though no left-wing person ever notices or pays any attention, automatically assuming that any opponent of the IRA is automatically a sympathizer with the UVF) that the problems of Northern Ireland would be better resolved by permanent direct rule from London, with neither community in the saddle. But ever since the overpraised John Hume inserted the so-called ‘Irish dimension’ into attempts to bring ’peace’ to Northern Ireland, some such outcome has been the official aim of the Dublin government, and was clearly adopted by the British and US governments too, or why did the 1998 Belfast Agreement, made under intense US pressure, contain unambiguous procedures for the irreversible transfer of Northern Ireland to Dublin? . The fact that something is clearly a mistake does not prevent politicians from seeking to do it. Nor does it prevent people from voting for it.
He’ll have noticed that United Kingdom national symbols are rapidly disappearing from Northern Ireland, especially the Crown (The Crown of St Edward is absent from the police badge, which has a pastiche non-official crown in a secondary position. There is no ‘Crown’ Prosecution Service, etc etc) and the Union Jack which can only be flown on official buildings on a small number of special occasions. And he’ll have noticed that the Tricolour already flies unmolested in much of the Province, and that the Irish language is increasingly common on street signs etc. A visit to Newry railway station is quite instructive in this matter. Even the Health Service doesn’t have its mainland logo.
Mr Williamson is surprised I think so little of ‘Of Mice and Men’. I can’t help it. I have never liked it, and that’s that. I’m sure it’s on the curriculum almost entirely because it’s so short. Steinbeck wasn’t particularly pleased with it, and when his red setter, Toby, ate the first draft, he forgave the dog (full story here http://www.pen.org/transcript/mighty-heart )
‘“Two months’ work to do over,” Steinbeck wrote. “There was no other draft. I was pretty mad, but the poor little fellow may have been acting critically. I didn't want to ruin a good dog for a manuscript I'm not sure is good at all.” Mice, as Steinbeck called it, was critically acclaimed, became a Book-of-the-Month, and a serious movie, but the suddenly famous Steinbeck still had his doubts. “I'm not sure,” he wrote, that “Toby didn't know what he was doing when he ate the first draft. I have promoted Toby-dog to be lieutenant-colonel in charge of literature.”’
‘East of Eden’ and ‘Grapes of Wrath’ are both, in my view, great books. ‘In Dubious Battle’, beloved by Barack Obama, is leaden agitprop. ‘The Moon is Down’ about the German occupation of Norway, is a good idea not very well done. I remember fondly but without much desire to return some of the Monterey stories in ‘Cannery Row’. I have never read ‘Cup of Gold’, which Steinbeck all but disowned, and ‘the Short Reign of Pippin IV’ should probably be buried at midnight at a crossroads with a stake through its heart. ‘Travels with Charley’ (Yes, it is in my opinion Steinbeck's third great book) never fails to be moving, especially as the America it so well describes, modern and revolutionary at the time, has now become a lost continent. I think I saw the end of it.
I am grateful to Mr Oliver Dykes for admitting he was wrong to urge me to support the Tories back in 2006. It is, alas, too late to undo the damage done by Mr Dykes and many others who refused to see the nature of the Cameron project, when it was blazingly obvious. This ghastly party will survive into and beyond the next election, when it should have been dead in 2010.
‘Gwillimbury’ says (first quoting me) : ‘'The story and drama of my country is part of me, and so it should be, and so it was for all my ancestors going back who knows how far.' So Britishness is not just a culture, but also a blood. I recall you saying that the whiteness of the country does not matter, but here you seem to have some racial pride.’
I can see absolutely no connection between the words quoted, and the sentiments expressed, and this claim about ‘blood’ and ‘whiteness’. If my ancestors hadn’t been steeped in their Protestant, British culture, it wouldn’t have mattered what was in their blood or what colour they were.
Finally, I must respond to Mr David Martin’s response to my ‘How Journalism Works’:
‘I am grateful to Peter Hitchens for his tutorial - perhaps even masterclass - in the ways that tone, nuance and 'other little twists and tugs', if carefully examined, reveal bias. In mitigation, as 'Private Eye' finds its place in the market as a satirical magazine its writers tend to adopt a mordant and sardonic style. These days such is the case with most 'smart' writing. In the 'Daily Mail' examples include Craig Brown (who also has a regular column in 'Private Eye') and Quentin Letts (whose columns on Westminster politics have an uncannily similar tone to those contributed to 'Private Eye' by 'Gavel Basher'). And, having told us 'how journalism works', it might be asked whether such a consummate journalist as Mr Hitchens is immune from these tricks of the trade.’
Mr Martin has missed the point so spectacularly that I need to take a deep breath before replying.
No intelligent person, reading my column or other articles, should be in any doubt for more than a couple of seconds that I openly hold strong and firm positions on many issues. Such a reader will know that anything I write will be informed by these unconcealed positions, and will make allowances for them (if hostile, checking my facts or wondering how selectively they have been gathered) .
But the normal reader, confronted by supposed ‘news’, will not know the tricks and swerves by which an opinion can be presented and indeed urged on the reader (or listener, or viewer) without the reader (or listener, or viewer) being aware of it.
So I am axiomatically guiltless of his charge, and axiomatically immune from such tricks.