I have been given a tentative teaching schedule for next year. While this schedule has not been confirmed, I wanted to start thinking about what major works I want to teach in case the schedule becomes a reality.

• 9th Grammar, Composition, and Literature
• 10th American Literature and Composition
• 10th Writing Seminar
• 11th British Literature and Composition
• 12th Drama and Composition/Short Story and Composition

I have taught all of these classes before with the exception of British Literature, and that is a class I have been itching to teach for years. A love for British Literature influenced me to become an English teacher in the first place. You may not know it, but I wrote a teachers’ guide for Beowulf for Penguin-Putnam. I am an Arthurian legend freak. I am a fiend for the Romantic poets.

These are some of the works I’m considering:

• Beowulf: This is a given. What I haven’t decided is whether to go with the textbook’s excerpt or a copy of the Seamus Heaney translation.
• The Canterbury Tales: My sophomore-level Brit. Lit. course professor required to read this in Middle English, but I have no plans to do this with my own students. I think a study of the original language of Beowulf and The Canterbury Tales might be interesting from the perspective of language development, and I may do some lessons on that subject. I think it would be fun to ask that students read selected blog posts from Geoffrey Chaucer’s blog.
• Hamlet and Macbeth: I should pick one or the other, but I’m not sure I can, as I think both are important. Something to think about.
• Pride and Prejudice: The ninth grade Honors students read this for summer reading, but the class I’m teaching is College Prep, so there might not be a conflict; however, I am of the opinion that the novel is more appropriately placed in the 11th grade British literature curriculum.
• Frankenstein: Students have heard so much about this book in our culture; they might enjoy actually reading it and comparing it to the popular vision of the Frankenstein monster.
• Wuthering Heights: I read this one in British Lit. in high school, and I liked it.
• Jane Eyre: This would be an either/or prospect. If students read Wuthering Heights, we wouldn’t do Jane Eyre.
• The Importance of Being Earnest: I think I would opt for this over The Picture of Dorian Gray simply because it’s a play and I’d like a balance of drama and novel.
• The Lord of the Flies: The other Brit. Lit. teacher has made this one a staple of the curriculum. I wouldn’t have to teach it, but I have to admit I would like to. It’s a great book. I think a lot of schools do it in 9th or 10th grade rather than in Brit. Lit.

Despite the fact that I am a huge Arthur nut, I have decided not to do Sir Gawain and the Green Knight mainly because I don’t want to overkill with the Middle English literature in a high school course. I also don’t want to do Le Morte D’Arthur, mainly because while I enjoyed the hell out of it, I’m not sure the students would appreciate it. And since I don’t think any other Arthurian material approaches Malory with the exception of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon, which was written by an American, I will probably content myself with a unit on the Matter of Britain starring some of the shorter works by both medieval writers and nineteenth century writers like Tennyson.

If you have taught British literature, which of the above books have you had success with? What would you teach? Obviously, I’m not choosing all of it; I just mocked up a list to start from.

[tags]British literature, education, literature selection[/tags]

The Lost Boys (MySpace) are a popular attraction at the Georgia Renaissance Festival. Billing themselves as Renaissance rockers, they often record traditional music and filks about Renaissance subject matter.

I never miss the Georgia Renaissance Festival, and when I go, I have to see the Lost Boys at least once.

The Lost Boys have recorded two songs written by the Bard (a third attributed to Shakespeare in their liner notes has also been attributed to Richard Barnfield, and because the authorship is uncertain, I decided not to include it here).

Download link

“Who is Sylvia” appears in Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act IV, Scene 2. If you decide to teach this play, your students might enjoy hearing what the musician might actually have sounded like.

Download link

“The Horn” appears in As You Like It Act IV, Scene 2. Again, students might appreciate hearing the song.

If you like these traditional versions of Shakespearean songs, you might also like Songs and Dances from Shakespeare.

What I find more fun, however, are the Lost Boys’ filks based on Shakespeare’s plays. If your students are reading Hamlet, they might enjoy “Hamlet Blues.”

Download link

Students will probably recognize a few bars of Jimi Hendrix’s “Hey Joe” and Guns ‘n’ Roses’ “I Used to Love Her, But I Had to Kill Her.”

My personal favorite, however, is “Desdemona,” set to the music of “My Sharona” by the Knack.

Download link

O you dirty ho, Iago, he done told me
you doin’ Cassio, but not no mo’
O why did you have to lie,
Desdemona!

I think the songs are fun, and perhaps your students will enjoy them. I will enclose one last song that has nothing whatsoever to do with Shakespeare, but is a great favorite of mine:

Download link

If you would like to purchase CD’s, the Lost Boys are selling their wares at their website.

[tags]Lost Boys, Georgia Renaissance Festival, filk, Shakespeare, education[/tags]

My students finished watching Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet today.

My personal decision regarding what to do about the infamous nude scene? I show it. Way back when I was in seventh grade, I had this great language arts teacher named Mr. Schmeisser. We read Romeo and Juliet and watched Zeffirelli’s film. I will never forget one of my peers noting that Romeo was a “hunk” (how dated does that sound now? I believe in today’s parlance, he’d be a “hottie”). In retrospect, despite my admiration and respect for Mr. Schmeisser, I have to say I don’t agree with his decision to teach us Romeo and Juliet in seventh grade. At the risk of drawing the ire of my middle school teacher friends, I have to say I don’t think middle schoolers are ready for it. My students who read it invariably say they didn’t understand it when they read it in middle school, and I don’t remember understanding it much either.

OK, before I went on that tangent, I was discussing the nude scene. Before the scene, Mr. Schmeisser gave us a talk. He said that we would be seeing a nude scene. Likely, it wasn’t anything we hadn’t seen before, and he trusted us to be mature; however, if his trust was proven to be misplaced and we giggled, we would not watch the rest of the film, and we would be doing grammar exercises instead. None of us even breathed during the infamous scene.

In all the years I have taught Romeo and Juliet, I have done just what Mr. Schmeisser did. Before we viewed the scene, I always talked frankly with my students about what they would see, why I thought they could handle it, and what I expected. Only once have I had to stop the film. And I stuck to my guns despite the fact that an assistant principal tried to intervene on the students’ behalf and asked that I show the rest of the film. Nothing doing. A deal’s a deal.

I knew we would be watching the scene today. I had heard through the grapevine that this group had watched this scene in middle school and not handled it well. This suspicion was confirmed when during our preliminary discussion, a student noted that her class watched it in middle school, and it was “a disaster.” I told the students they had seen nudity before; furthermore, they had seen nudity in a theater, most likely, and not giggled at all. I shared the interesting fact that though Olivia Hussey was fifteen when she made this film, Zeffirelli had obtained special permission to film her nude, and as a consequence, Hussey was unable to attend the movie’s premiere due to her age — even though the nudity was her own. The A-rating given to the film at the time meant that only people aged 18 and older could see the film.

As I predicted, my students were just fine during the scene.

I have heard stories of teachers lamely trying to hold objects in front of the screen or skipping the scene altogether. I think the need for this kind of behavior could be avoided if you just talk with students and treat them as if you can trust them to be mature. Most of the time, in my experience, they want to keep your trust, and they want to demonstrate their maturity.

[tags]Romeo and Juliet, Olivia Hussey, Franco Zeffirelli, education, teaching[/tags]

Who killed Romeo and Juliet?

The answer isn’t as simple as one might think, and determining who is most to blame for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet makes a great writing exercise for students. I can no longer remember where I found this idea, as is so often the case with us educators, I suppose, so if you find it, please let me know so I may give proper credit.

In order to prepare for this assignment, students can write summaries of each act as they read and keep the summaries in their notebook. Depending upon the students’ level, the teacher may decide it is OK to skip this step. Next, the teacher should lead a discussion of each character’s flaws or traits. The way I usually do this is to create a web with the character’s name at the center.

The character map above is just a small example. For the final step, students examine their plot summaries coupled with character maps to determine which character was at fault for Romeo and Juliet’s deaths. They write a persuasive essay incorporating examples of actions on the part of that character that led to Romeo and Juliet’s deaths. For example, one student of mine two years ago argued that Friar Laurence was most to blame for the deaths. She determined that Friar Laurence did not do enough to make sure the lovers were both in on the plan he made. Many students argue that Romeo, Tybalt, and Capulet are most responsible. Interestingly, students invariably see Juliet as innocent, even though she stabs herself in the end.

This assignment can easily be adapted to fit the standard five-paragraph essay format:

1. Introduction, including thesis about who is most responsible for deaths.
2. One reason why the person is responsible (action or words).
3. Second reason why.
4. Third reason why.
5. Conclusion.

As my students have already written two essays for this unit, I have decided to adapt this assignment into a Socratic Seminar. In order to do this, my students will discuss the characters’ traits tomorrow. We will begin planning for the seminar by marking passages that offer evidence of a certain character’s blame with post-it notes. On Wednesday, students will hold the seminar. This would be a great time to do a podcast, but as I explained yesterday, I’m not quite ready for that at this point. If we need to roll into Thursday to finish the discussion, that’s fine. Greece Central School District has some great resources for Socratic Seminars.

Update: Borrowing liberally from Greece Central School District’s information I created a document to explain to my students what a Socratic Seminar is all about (Socratic Seminar handout) and an accompanying rubric (Romeo and Juliet Seminar rubric). My students asked me if they could have two class periods (today and tomorrow) to prepare for the discussion. They were busily marking their books with post-its and asking me about their ideas. One student excited showed me a list of twenty events in the play that contributed to Romeo and Juliet’s deaths.  Following the discussion, I will ask them to complete the Self-Evaluation (Word doc) created by Greece Central Schools.

They are so much more engaged in the text through an activity like this than they would be if I just gave them a test.

[tags]Romeo and Juliet, teaching, education, Socratic Seminar[/tags]

In my experience, people have a strong reaction to Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 production of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet: they either love it, or they hate it. A teacher friend of mine once told me, “I refuse to show my classes the Leo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet because… because… because it’s such a crock of shit.” Yet another colleague called it “lush and visually stunning.”

My students often refer to this version as the “new” one. It seems strange to refer to Baz Luhrmann’s production as the “new” version, when it is now ten years old; however, I think it does retain some freshness. It doesn’t appear dated, at least not yet, but I do feel that it’s potential to become dated is greater than that of Franco Zeffirelli’s 1968 production (which seems dated only in some of the hairstyles).

One of the chief complaints of many people who don’t like the film is the modernization, which some believe borders on sacrilege. My department head mentioned she thinks it is weird to hear Shakespearean dialogue amidst the gunplay. Others dislike the so-called MTV quality of the film. Noted film critic Roger Ebert declared, “I have never seen anything remotely approaching the mess that the new punk version of Romeo & Juliet makes of Shakespeare’s tragedy” (via Rotten Tomatoes).

I have often hedged before telling someone I liked it, simply because those who react negatively to the film do so in such a, well, violent manner. No, no one’s ever hit me — but their crazy-eyed, passionate hatred has scared me! If I may be so bold, I have noticed that many people who dislike the film have such a strong, visceral reaction that they are unable to see that the film does have some merits. For example, given that Zeffirelli’s film is so true to the spirit of Shakespeare’s play, it might surprise you to learn that Luhrmann’s version actually contains more of the text of the play. Shocking! In fact, Zeffirelli’s version cuts one of the most famous lines: “But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? / It is the east, and Juliet is the sun” (Act II, Scene 2). If my memory serves, the most important line that Luhrmann cuts is Juliet’s famous “O happy dagger / This is thy sheath. There rust and let me die” (Act V, Scene 3).

I have to admit that I do not care for Luhrmann’s Balcony Scene. I don’t think there was any reason to put Romeo and Juliet in a pool, aside from amping up the sexuality. I wish also that the characters Sampson and Gregory had not been made Montagues rather than Capulets, and that Abra (Abraham or Abram) had not been made a Capulet rather than a Montague. My objection to this stems only from the fact that when I use the movie in class, this change can cause confusion.

Swapping guns for swords does not trouble me; I feel that Luhrmann handled that in a clever way, and in fact, the exchange really emphasized the violence in Romeo and Juliet’s world. Think about it: in the 1400’s it was not uncommon for the average male to carry a weapon or two. I think it makes sense that the omnipresence of weapons makes it more likely that weapons will be used. However, this was not something that particularly struck me as frightening until I saw all those guns. Why be more afraid of a gun than a sword? I’m not sure, but I know I felt as though life in Verona Beach, Florida was more precarious than life in Verona, Italy, even if this was not remotely a reality.

The massive throw-down at the gas station? It hooked me. A black Mercutio dressed in drag for the Capulets’ feast? I loved it. Miriam Margolyes’ Hispanic nurse screaming “Hoo-lee-etta!” Classic. The twist at the end, when Juliet awakes just before Romeo takes the poison? Clever and heart-wrenching. I should add that I have never had a class that didn’t laugh at Claire Daines’ echoing cry after Romeo dies. It does sound a bit, well, fake. What masterful use of the “Liebestod” from Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde after she dies!

In the balance, I like both films equally, and I use both in my class, though I only show the entirety of Zeffirelli’s version. After all, we only have so much time in class and a lot o curriculum to teach. However, I invite interested parties to come to my room at lunch to view Luhrmann’s version. Two years ago, I had a couple of girls who came to lunch and watched it over and over and over. I have not noticed that the students favor one version of the film over the other. For the most part, my students have enjoyed both. If you are interested, you can download and view a Power Point presentation in which I utilize images from Luhrmann’s film (designed to introduce Shakespeare’s play to students).

[tags]Baz Luhrmann, William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet[/tags]

In my last post about teaching Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, I mentioned a writing assignment I like for my students to do: an analysis of Juliet’s relationship with her nurse. In my first post in this series, I discussed an activity in which students compare and contrast two filmed versions of the Balcony Scene (Act II, Scene 2). Until I taught today, I didn’t know I was going to write about today’s lesson, as I didn’t consider it to be particularly noteworthy, but a student’s comment at the end of class changed my mind.

When we begin Act III of Romeo and Juliet (really any Shakespearean tragedy — or at least all the ones I can think of right off the top of my head), I tell students that this is the act in which “all hell breaks loose.” I know I have more license to say things like that than some teachers, but students usually appreciate the humor. Sure enough, in the first scene, Tybalt and Mercutio are both slain. We actually read this scene on Friday. One of the students asked a question about Mercutio’s death. I can’t remember exactly how the question was phrased, but it had something to do with why Tybalt did it, especially since Mercutio was related to Prince Escalus. Didn’t he worry about being executed? I thought it was a very good question, and I mentioned that though Shakespeare’s stage directions leave this scene open to interpretation, both movie versions I had seen approached the scene in a similar way: Mercutio’s death was an accident. In Franco Zeffirelli’s version, Tybalt and Mercutio are clearly not seriously trying to hurt each other. At one point, they even exchange an exasperated look as Romeo continues to try to part them. Michael York’s face displays shock when he pulls his sword away and sees blood. In Baz Luhrmann’s film, Tybalt is defending himself from an aggressive Mercutio, but John Leguizamo, too, looks somewhat surprised (or at least dazed) after he stabs Mercutio with a large piece of glass. I told students that it is possible to get around the “wasn’t Tybalt thinking” problem by directing the scene so that it is clearly an accident, but the truth is, one could also argue that Tybalt is hot-headed by nature and didn’t think about the consequences or who Mercutio’s connections were. The beauty is that either interpretation makes perfect sense. It all boils down to how much of a jerk the director wants Tybalt to be.

We learn that Romeo is exiled at the end of Scene 1. When Scene 2 opens, Juliet has not yet heard the news of Tybalt’s death or Romeo’s banishment. We stopped and talked about how the nurse confuses Juliet; she isn’t clear about who died or what happened at first, and Juliet mistakenly thinks Romeo is dead. One of the students asked why the nurse wasn’t more clear. I said she was very upset and wasn’t thinking straight, but it also makes for some great dramatic tension, as we (the audience) already know what happened. Juliet recites a fantastic list of paradoxes/oxymorons:

O serpent heart hid with a flowering face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!
Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despisèd substance of divinest show,
Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st.
A damnèd saint, an honorable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? Oh, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!

When I teach Romeo and Juliet, I ask students to look for examples of foreshadowing, oxymorons and paradoxes, puns, allusions, metaphors, and personification, but when we run into any of those literary devices in use, I always stop, and ask students “What is that?” They’re especially good at picking out foreshadowing.

In Scene 3, Romeo learns about the Prince’s judgment. Friar Laurence tries to convince Romeo that it isn’t so bad — it’s possible that with time, a solution can be found, and Romeo and Juliet can be reunited. I mentioned that I thought Romeo was being whiny, which gave the students an opportunity to tell me I was too harsh.

In the next scene, Juliet’s father decides to marry her off to Paris. When we read the earlier scene in which Capulet declared, “Woo her gentle Paris, get her heart / My will to her consent is but a part,” we stopped and talked about it, and I told students to remember he said that. Sure enough, one of the students said, “I thought he said she was too young earlier.” I said, “He did, didn’t he? And he also said she had a say in the matter.” I pointed out that Capulet is sure that Juliet will be happy about the news; it never occurs to him that she will not want to marry Paris.

Capulet has a great scene in which he explodes at Juliet’s seeming ungratefulness. Both of Juliet’s parents say some fairly awful things in their anger, and Juliet turns to the nurse for advice. The nurse tells her that it would be smart to marry Paris. Romeo can’t very well come to Verona to challenge the marriage, and after all, Paris is wealthy nobility. Juliet determines never to confide in the nurse again. This decision is critical. I asked students to think about what this means for our young lovers. One student mentioned she could still talk to Friar Laurence. I said, yes, she could, and she is just about to — she told the nurse she was going to confession.

One of the things I sometimes do when I’m talking during discussion is draw a student in, even if he or she isn’t really participating at the moment. An example might be, “I think Romeo’s being a real whiner here, right Bob?” or “I don’t know about you, but I’m scared for Juliet. Aren’t you scared Sally?” I don’t know why, but the students think it’s funny. It’s not the same as that teacher tactic of calling out when someone is not paying attention. It’s kind of a playful way of paying attention to a student.

At the end of class today, I summed up Act III: “So was I right? All hell broke loose! Mercutio and Tybalt are dead. Romeo has to leave town. Juliet has to get married, but she’s already married.”

The room was nearly empty. Just two students were still packing up their notebooks and backpacks. One of them smiled down at his desk and said, “Ms. Huff, you’re crazy cool.” I said, “You are too.” And he said, “Thanks.” I didn’t really realize I was doing much here — just reading and discussing together. But then again, no one ever accused me of being “crazy cool” after assigning a compare/contrast essay about the Balcony Scene.

[tags]Romeo and Juliet, teaching, education, Shakespeare[/tags]