“Do I really need to read classics?” – for many years, even despite having majored in literature, my answer would’ve been a simple: “no”. My initial experience with classics was similar to that of many others; they were forced down my throat in high school and made me occasionally question whether I liked reading at all.
Countless stories on the martyrdom of the Polish nation and medieval conquests did not spark any sort of passion in me. Very often, I had a week to read hundreds of pages, and trust me, by the end of that week I never retained much. I could appreciate the craft behind most of them, but I could not make these books my own.
Going into university, I vouched to arrange my literary education in my own way, a modern way. Not concern myself with outdated writing which would undoubtedly drain me with its lengthy paragraphs and complicated language. Classics represented something unattainable, something that could not possibly bring me joy or fulfilment, at least not beyond bragging rights and mental exhaustion.
My outlook drastically changed in my last year when I finally took a classics course. A bit begrudgingly, as I believed it was something I simply had to do before graduating. Now I want to share how and why it forever changed my opinion on classical literature.
Now bear in mind that throughout this article I’ll be talking about the Western canon, although I believe my points could be applied to all canons and great books. The Western canon is of course not the only canon, and certainly not superior in quality. However, that is the canon I am most familiar with, and therefore, the one I feel most qualified to speak on.
I. In defence of the canon
Classics are classics for a reason. There are always multiple socio-political currents behind the creation of any canon, or any other list with such great authority. However, time has a tendency to expose which ones will remain a part of these lists, and which ones will eventually be forgotten. Not many pass the test of time, in which case, their supposed greatness can be seen as somewhat situational.
I remember during the second class of the classics course my professor read out to us a list of the so-called Great Books from the 1950s or 1960s. Many of the names and books were entirely unknown to the students and the professor alike.
I think many people think of the canon as this unchangeable holy list set in stone, but the truth is that like everything, it is subject to change. Although there are many lists of great books, classics, or whatever one may call them, there is not the one canon, the one list, theone collection that is universally agreed on.
This is why the calls to “open up the canon” always filled me with comprehension. Not because I don’t want it to be expanded to previously unknown people who were not only white, old men. But because in order to open up the canon, you would have to first close it – and who am I, or anybody else really, to do that? The act of opening up the canon therefore, although honorable at first sight, can easily achieve the opposite.
II. A canon is to be criticised
I attended a small Liberal Arts and Sciences university in the Netherlands and it was all that you could imagine it to be. From the very first class I was taught to question absolutely everything, anyone’s authority, points, and especially, any kind of canons.
This questioning nature may be one of the best things I derived from my education, but this kind of philosophy also inevitably results in a slight superiority complex, at least at first. I mean there I was, deconstructing and criticising Shakespeare in my first semester, convinced that I was doing an amazing job.
Like everything you read, see, or witness, classics should be approached with a healthy dose of critical thought. However, something that I commonly observed amongst my fellow students, or even some scholars, is blind criticism.
What I mean by that is that they would jump head first into completely ripping apart great writers like Shakespeare or Hemingway. Not because they have spent due time on analysing these texts and familiarising themselves with how critical theory has been previously applied to them, but because they instantly assumed a position of superiority. They seemed convinced that having been born centuries later granted them wisdom.
Criticism carried out in such a way is always sloppy and simplistic. Not because there is nothing to criticise, but because no valuable observations are made based on the assumption that the subject of your criticism is, to put it plainly, an idiot.
Academia and the study of literature overall resembles one long conversation that the new generations keep adding onto. Like in any conversation or debate, making a strawman out of your opponent, instead of giving their outlook due time and consideration, only makes you look unintelligent and arrogant, and your counter arguments surface-level.
Although it is tempting to immediately jump to deconstructing and criticising everything you consume, you must first familiarise yourself with the primary source. You can’t deconstruct something if you know nothing of its construction.
I don’t mean skim through it, read one chapter, or even worse, a summary, but really devote time to soaking up every word. Think about the points and stories that are made and told, think what criticisms first spark to mind. Then assume they have already been put forward and probably countered in some way. Under no circumstance, assume that a widely acclaimed author did not account for criticisms that may be thrown their way by a 20 year old, even one whose birth proceeds their death by centuries.
I am not trying to scare anyone into blind praise either, but rather, encourage criticisms to be made carefully, with humility.
III. But why should you read classics?
My previous points mostly centred around why lovers of literature should read classics, but I believe their value does not end there. Everyone would benefit from reading them.
All literature has its benefits, like developing imagination or serving as a form of escapism. However, the benefits of classical literature, good literature that has remained relevant across centuries, are quite unique.
What I noticed across many classics is that they are mostly focused on characters, less so on plot and pacing. Not to say that the latter is lacking, but rather, that the former often lacks in contemporary beach reads, gritty crime stories or the so-called BookTok books trending on social media.
I think it is because our approach to literature changed. Nowadays, being a reader on social media entails reading as many books as possible, as fast as possible. Naturally, the books themselves must therefore be easy to consume and pretty straightforward. Something which does not stall your attention, but makes it possible to shift it to your next read immediately upon finishing.
Constructing characters takes time, it often stalls action, or otherwise is done very subtly and slowly. You are rarely told that someone is brave or intelligent, more often, it is shown through their small mannerisms and behaviours.
Characterisation does not have the shock value of a car crash, but it is that study of humans, of these fictional characters, that will do what literature does best – familiarise you with humanity. Despite their fictionality, well-built characters will make you recognise yourself in them.
IV. Why they are much needed nowadays
Classics force you to slow down. In my experience they are more dense and often more subtle in their storytelling. They are full of very subtle metaphors and ambiguous situations. More and more mainstream and everyday media thrives off straightforwardness and clear resolutions. Because of being used to having everything clearly explained and laid out, media literacy has suffered.
Being sensitive to these subtleties is not only helpful in decoding political speeches though, it helps you understand everyday interactions much better, pick up on hints and interpret mannerisms of others.
A much simpler pleasure can be derived from the fact that you’ll be able to observe the origin of many tropes that nowadays may even be considered cliches. With reading, and consuming all other art, there is nothing more fulfilling than making connections within the web of meanings and seeing how they have evolved across time and space.
V. But it’s so hard to read…
Many classics use older language which requires more attention than the English we’re used to. Although we are wired to shy away from things that pose a challenge, especially considering how convenient life has become, it certainly pays off.
Like many more people I was secretly afraid of not being ‘smart enough’ to enjoy classics. I am not trying to convince you to start reading in old English, unless you really want to, but aside from a slight adjustment period, you do not need to have a literature degree to enjoy classics. Sure, some of the parts may be harder to follow and require more attention but I can assure you they would not remain half as relevant if only college professors could derive pleasure from them.
Besides, it’s really good to challenge your brain, especially as that is so rarely required on an everyday basis.
Having said all that, not every book is for everyone. You may not like all the classics you read (I know I don’t), but I can assure you, you’ll be surprised by how many you will. Last but not least, here is the most important reason why they’re classics and why you should read them: they are universal.
Although people are riddled with differences, there are some qualities that we all share, experiences we can all relate to. Despite many years having passed since the creation of many classics, people nowadays are not as different as we’d like to imagine.
The human experience that classics portray is universal across time and space. There is something comforting and deeply enlightening in knowing that other people have experienced the same things. There is also nothing more satisfying than finding an author that has managed to perfectly put into words something you’ve struggled to articulate. This moment of recognition is one of the biggest pay-offs of reading.
To answer my own question, yes you should really read classics. Not because there aren’t any good contemporary books, in fact there are plenty, but because reading classics first will aid your experience with contemporary writing.
Don’t read classics to have a ready-made list of difficult books you’ve fought your way through, but for yourself. Do it carefully and slowly. No matter where you work or study, or who you are, I assure you, it’ll be a meaningful experience.
