[1] What distinctions does Edmundson draw between the study of literature and history? What dangers does he see in historicizing the study of literature?

     It's enlightening to me when Edmundson states that history "begins as a branch of literature" (115). I'd never thought about it in that way, but he's right. Whether oral or written (or more modernly, whether photographed or filmed) the transcription of history does depend on some literary medium. History might theoretically exist in a vacuum, but it can't practically. "If an event happens and no one records it, does it still make a sound?" Not much of one.

     And so, the distinction between literature and history, seen in that light, is that literature is not confined to real facts and events; in the broadest sense it is any form of verbal communication. History is held to a more demanding standard. The sentences we read in a history are supposed to be true; accurate renderings of events that really happened.

     I don't think that literature can have much existence without history, either. They're symbiotic- they need each other, benefit from their partnership. Except maybe when the relationship becomes more parasitic- and one benefits while the other suffers. This is a problem Edmundson is addressing in the "Always Historicize?" section.

     "To qualify as a respectable scholar, one needs to put the work at hand into its historical context... By no means should the real scholar see what the work can do in the present' (119). (And that last line was intended sarcastically, by the way). The danger of "relegating" every work into its place in history is that it takes away the relevance to the present. It's like saying Hard Times by Dickens had lessons for the Industrial Age, but not our own.

     "The historian will tell you what happened. The novelist will tell you what it felt like." (E.L. Doctorow).

[2] Is Edmundson comfortable with changing cannons of literature that may emphasize multiculturalism and the include works of Pop culture? What about you?

     Edmundson is on the traditionalist side of the fence regarding the literary canon, despite his willingness to play devil's advocate and call some of that tradition into question. "When you ask the traditionalists exactly what makes a Bronte novel more worth reading than a bodice-ripper, they often can't come up with much... [he observes] What the defenders of consequential writing need to do is to stand up and say that a Bronte novel can... better enhance your expanding circle of self" [he advises] (121). A little later he gives his true stance: "I think that canonical works... ought to be the testing and transforming books that have influenced people in exciting ways over a long period" (122, my italics). That seems very clear cut to me.

     He is not very open to multiculturalism or Pop culture. That's a little off-putting to me, honestly- especially when it comes to the literary works of non-European (translate- "something other than Caucasian") authors. His defense of that bias: "Knowledge of the other without a corresponding self-knowledge is a supremely dangerous acquisition" (126). He doesn't come right out and say that traditionalism is that exclusionary, and in fact admits that there's benefit in an "East meets West" approach; but overall I think he implies that he's happy with the literary canon as it has stood for a long time.

     Despite my finding it refreshing that he brings Rolling Stone guitarist/composer Keith Richard into the discussion in "Pop", it feels more like a way for Edmundson to sound "hip" than anything else. He makes some other concessions (Bob Dylan, Muddy Waters. Stanley Kubrick), but then attacks Stephen King (vs. Faulkner). I find the summation of his view of pop culture in the statement "The mark of an educated person should be the ability to see the differences between entertainment and more nurturing, vital stuff" (134-5).

     I have enjoyed reading Edmundson, even if as a college student I am not his primary audience. Outsider though I may be, it's enlightening to "listen in" on how professors and other literati view and debate their work. I would hope that many ask these hard questions and are willing to adapt with the times.

     There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the canon I personally have been exposed to, and that's the perspective from which I can comment best. In the past three years, both at community college and here at UNCG, I've had a very enriching diet of the classics, multicultural literature, and pop culture.

     Hemingway and Ambrose Bierce. Dickens and Edgar Allan Poe. Gabriel Garcia Marquez and James Baldwin. Contemporary American short stories and Asian novels. Poetry, prose, and drama. That's just a small sampling, and from the literature courses only.

     From the core BLS classes came world myths and various classic treatises on the humanities (Da Vinci, Socrates...). From history there were readings from scientists, military theorists, pacifists, revolutionaries, feminists, conservatives, and liberals. Between "Old Europe/New Europe and "The Sixties" I was exposed to all kinds of views and movements from both sides of the pond.

     Maybe its different for an English major, but I feel that I've been given a wide spectrum of literature, for which I'm thankful. Just writing about it here made me appreciate the scope of it.

[3] What is the answer to the question Edmundson poses in the title of his Why Read?

     For a book with the title Why Read?, Mark Edmundson wastes no time answering that question- he gets right to it on the first page, first paragraph: "there may be no medium that can help us learn to live our lives as well as poetry, and literature overall, can" (1). The first section "Literary Life" is his explanation of why we should read; the remainder of the book is really more focused on what and how we should read (and how teachers should approach the task). A couple other quotes on the benefits include: "[reading] is the major cultural source of vital options" (2); or "our best goad toward new beginnings, our best chance for what we might call secular rebirth" (3).

     These and some others that are sprinkled through the text are all excellent answers. They're basically well-phrased ways of stating that reading will improve your life. That's a sort of blanket statement however, and we each have our own relationship with the written word. We might read the same work, but take totally different things away from it.

     I think the real magic of literature is the fact that you are allowed to share in the most intimate thoughts and ideas of another human being; someone that took the time and worked hard to impart their knowledge/imagination for others to experience. It's different than a conversation (although those can be wonderful too) because it's timeless. Or more accurately, it's a one-way conversation that can occur over large expanses of time. A sort of immortality. Although long dead, probably just about everyday William Shakespeare gets the pleasure of introducing himself to a new reader. That can't be too bad.

@Mary Herald:

Your statement "every reason for reading is extremely positive" got me thinking. And I would agree that almost 100% of the time it is true. So please understand that I'm not disagreeing with your post- I just happened to think of a couple exceptions.

I worked as a receiving manager for Barnes & Noble for about six years; a job that sounds intellectually stimulating, and it was, (but the downside is the fact that there's not many things heavier than boxes of books). But anyway, I remember a few instances where store management was concerned about titles ordered by customers.

The Anarchist Cookbook is one example- it has instructions for building home-made bombs, communications-jamming devices, and recipes for making illegal drugs. There's another one called Don't Get Mad, Get Even which is pretty much what it sounds like: some really nasty ways to take revenge on a person or a company. And believe it or not, there was a customer that wanted a "photography" book that was actually thinly-veiled child pornography. But because this is America, and B&N is a public company, the First Amendment protects the rights of individuals to purchase such "literature". We had to honor these orders.

One other interesting thing- I shipped books and magazines to a lot of prisoners. A family member or friend of a felon is not allowed to do so directly; it has to be done through a third party. (So they can't slip a weapon or money inside a book? I don't know- I'm sure the packages are inspected first by prison officials anyway). There was one category of books or magazines that couldn't be sent- anything with nudity or erotic content. I'll end on that note...