On Literary Canons
Aug. 12th, 2020 01:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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On Literary Canons
At some point when I and my brothers were very young, our mother (who was a wonderful, brilliant, talented human being so just keep that in mind if you think you know what the moral of this story is) drew up a list of 100 books that she thought we should have read by the time we became adults. The list included fiction from several centuries, books on history, on philosophy, on social and hard sciences — all works that she (coming out of a Masters program in education) thought were a good index to what a well-rounded, well-read person should be exposed to.
She posted the list on the inside of the door of one of the cabinets of books in the house. The cabinet contained some of the books on the list, but far from all of them — we were a library-going family more than a book-buying family. We knew the list was there, but we didn’t give it much thought.
We were too busy reading.
Speaking only for myself, I read voraciously and indiscriminately. I read from one end to the other of the children’s fiction section in the library well before I was allowed an adult library card. I read encyclopedias cover to cover. I read history books and books on farming and books on zoology and after I started inventing my own languages, I read books on language. I read a calculus textbook just for fun. I read a LOT of books.
I read a fair number of the books on that list of 100 books, but I didn’t read a majority of them. In some cases, I started a title and bounced off it. In some cases, it wasn’t a subject that interested me. In some cases, the work was no longer the best (or even anywhere near the best) work on the particular subject. Sometimes the books I’d read instead on the topic hadn’t even been published yet when my mother drew up the list. Sometimes a book that had seemed earthshaking and important in 1960 didn’t stand the test of time. (Does the name Velikovsky ring a bell?)
When my parents retired and decided to sell the family home to move elsewhere, my mother took down the list from the inside of that cabinet door and commented sadly that she’d always been disappointed that we’d never finished reading every book on that list.
That’s what a canon is. It’s the list of 100 books that your mother drew up when you first learned to read that she decided was the measure of being well-read because they were the books she’d read.
[Note: details of this account are from memory and may not always match exact historical events and utterances.]
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