The most recent discussion of the use of literature in composition classrooms began at the 1992 Conference on College Composition and Communication. During that conference, Erika Lindemann and Gary Tate presented their views, which were published, in revised form, in College English in March 1993 (Lindemann, "Three Views" 287). This issue, with some ramifications and digressions from it, was discussed in several succeeding volumes of College English. The issue, as initially outlined in the Lindemann and Tate articles, was whether or not reading literature should be part of the freshman composition course. A related issue that is discussed in several of the essays and responses is the purpose of the First Year Composition class.
In her article, "Freshman Composition: No Place for Literature," Erika Lindemann takes a stand against literature in the composition class. She suggests that another question should be answered before this issue is discussed: what is the purpose of the first-year writing course? Her answer is that the course should offer "guided practice in reading and writing the discourses of the academy and the professions" (312). She therefore concludes that in such a writing course, literature is not needed or desired. She also provides five additional reasons for her contention that literature in the composition class is not appropriate. The first is that in a literature-based course, students do not write enough because the emphasis is not on producing text but reading it. Secondly, literature is not needed in the writing course to provide humanistic content (as some suggest) because students are required to take other humanities courses. Further, studying literature does not teach style (as is also claimed) because students write about literature, they do not write literature. New insights into interpreting text likewise do not mandate the use of literature, for those insights do not apply only to literature but to all reading. Lastly, Lindemann says that adding literature to freshman composition would not, as some think, enhance graduate training programs but would rather erode them (313-15).
Gary Tate feels there is "A Place for Literature in Freshman Composition." He attributes what he sees as the virtual disappearance of literature in composition classes to its poor use by teachers in the past, the revival of rhetoric, and changes in views about the purpose of freshman writing courses. During the 1960s, rhetoric replaced literature in the freshman composition course because of the poor teaching practices through the efforts of rhetorical "zealots" Tate calls the Rhetoric Police. He wonders if too much was given up when literature was displaced (317-18). Focusing on the purpose of freshman composition, he further questions "why we are neglecting literature" and suggests one important reason is that many teachers believe the goal of freshman composition is to teach the writing of academic discourse. He does not fully accept the idea of freshman composition as only a "service course" for the other disciplines. He considers as impractical the idea that such preparation can be provided in freshman composition; it is too big a job to be accomplished in one or two semesters. Tate is concerned that too many teachers have accepted the idea that "a college education is primarily job training" and that freshman composition "is to help make that training more effective" (320). In place of the academic discourse focus, Tate suggests the focus be placed on the individual students in these courses because "true education, as opposed to training, is concerned with much more than what we find in the various academic disciplines" (320-21). In this "Writing Beyond the Disciplines," no texts would be eliminated from the students' resources and there would certainly be a place for literature (321).
In the October 1993 issue of College English, four comments on "Two Views on the Use of Literature in Composition" were printed. Gregory S. Jay takes Lindemann to task for her definition of the First Year Composition course as a writing course, pointing out that an English course and a writing course are not the same thing. Jay decries the political divisions of English departments between writing and English programs. He suggests that freshman composition should be an English course "in which writing is an important but not exclusive concern." His conclusion is that if literature does not belong in the freshman composition class, the class does not belong in the English department (673-75). Elizabeth Latosi-Sawin responds that the issue is really no longer an issue and that Lindemann and Tate's "extreme positions are unnecessary given the creative compromises already in the field." Contending that the question is now about how literature "is to be defined, selected, and used," she cites creative programs using literature with writing as well as the study of literature in fields outside of English departments (675-6). Leon Knight comes down firmly on the side of literature in freshman composition, since his college's courses have long been literature based. He contends that "being based on reading is what separates academic writing from other types of writing," so it only makes sense to have freshman composition classes based on reading. Literature should be the primary reading because reading literature is practical: it is the most direct way to learn to properly image what is read (by learning through metaphor), reading literature is enjoyable, and it is an efficient way to learn critical thinking. It is also the "easiest way for a college to encourage awareness of and respect for cultural diversity" (676-78). For Jeanie C. Crain, the first question is about how literature is to be defined. While asserting that literature-based courses do not have to focus on consuming rather that producing texts, she advocates a broad definition of literature. Agreeing that the emphasis should be on writing, she suggests that, after that, "what literature we use should be a matter of teacher and student choice" (678-79).
Two years after their original articles appeared, Tate and Lindemann, along with three other scholars, contributed to a symposium on the topic in the March 1995 College English. The first article, "Imaginative Literature in Composition Classrooms?," is by Erwin R. Steinberg. Using evidence from Albert Kitzhaber, the 1958 report The Basic Issues in the Teaching of English, and topics at CCCC meetings, Steinberg's "reading of history . . . says that imaginative literature has not had a secure place in composition classrooms since at least the 1930s" and "that we have entered the age of rhetoric for teachers of composition" (266-271). He discusses what he sees as inconsistencies in Richard Lanham's support of literature in the classroom and agrees with E. D. Hirsch's argument against literature (271-75). He ends his essay by taking issue with "derogatory references" such as Tate's mention of the "Rhetoric Police" (279).
In "Fictionalizing the Disciplines: Literature and the Boundaries of Knowledge," Michael Gamer argues that "imaginative texts are suitable, if not desirable" in the composition classroom "because they hold multiple points of view and are by nature multidisciplinary" (282). He first points out that "the distinction between fiction and nonfiction has blurred if not altogether disappeared" (282). He goes on to suggest that imaginative texts allow students to "make use of their own experience while simultaneously seeing the limits of that experience" (283). He recommends replacing Tate's concept of Writing Beyond the Disciplines with writing from outside the curriculum, to "treat the disciplines themselves as constructs worthy of analysis and questioning" (285). Finally, he says that literature "can help students to make connections between the bewildering array of courses across many disciplines that they have to take while in college" (285).
Revisiting this issue in "Three Views of English 101," Lindemann chooses to shift the focus of the debate by returning to the first question in her original essay: what is the purpose of the freshman writing course? Using a method from Young, Becker, and Pike's Rhetoric: Discovery and Change, she proposes three perspectives of English 101, "regarding writing as a particle, wave, and field . . . depending on whether we see writing primarily as a product, a process, or a system of social actions" (288-89). For each of these she describes the kinds of teaching practices that define them. She describes the product-centered or traditional approach a "the oldest and most prevalent," the method in which reading literature is most important (290). The process-centered course "focuses primarily on students," and so the "most important text in such a course is student writing" (293-94). The view of writing as a system translates into a course in which the "primary goal is to empower writers to membership in various discourse communities" (297). By analyzing a variety of texts, students are exposed to writing from the academic disciplines. This type of writing class does not focus on literature. Lindemann concludes that "reading . . . is important in all three models, but reading literature may not be" (299).
Gary Tate, in his follow-up essay, "Notes on the Dying of a Conversation," concludes that in his earlier piece he may "have been wrong in picturing literature as driven from the composition classroom" (304). He refers, as does Steinberg, to reports from CCCC meetings, deciding from this evidence that although literature "did not disappear from the classrooms of many composition teachers, it did disappear from the conversation of our discipline" (304). He submits that there are two reasons for this: the exaggerated but unsupported claims about the benefit of using literature and the lack, from the 1950s on, of new arguments or insights to support its use. He suggests that for those who believe in the benefit of literature in the classroom, "the failures of the past must inform us and warn us as we attempt to begin the conversation anew" (308).
In the last article of the symposium, Jane Peterson presents "Through the Looking-Glass: A Response." She questions the assumptions of the basic issue, particularly "its genre focus and its isolation of the freshman course" (311). Noting the difficulty of strictly differentiating between genres in modern writing, she contends that the freshman course should not be discussed "as if the genre of print texts defines it. . . . Instead, we need to discuss the nature and place of reading in the freshman course . . . in the context not only of course goals, but also of our discipline, our institutions, and our departments"(312). Peterson believes that the goal of First Year Composition cannot be usefully discussed without considering institutions, departments, students, and geographic locations. Therefore, she feels that not only is agreement about the purpose of First Year Composition needed but "first we need to agree on the nature and goal of English studies" in general (314). She advocates the report of the 1987 English Coalition Conference, in which she participated. The conference report recommended, among other things, a Freshman Reading and Writing course (rather than Freshman Composition) dealing with all language experiences: reading, writing, speaking and listening (314-16).
Response to these articles continued in the December 1995 College English. Jon Rounds comments rather caustically on Lindemann's "Three Views of English 101," characterizing it as "crippling either/or thinking" and that it "serves only to expose her bias and fuel dispute." He particularly takes issue with the characterization of the "product" view. His response, however, does not directly address the literature/no literature controversy (960-61). In responding to Rounds' comment, Lindemann defends her "Three Views" as valid generalizations, while admitting that such generalizing "distorts some teaching practices of some individual teachers." She characterizes her essay as an explanation of differing opinions about English 101 and the role of reading in it (961-963). Deena Linett comments on Peterson's "Through the Looking-Glass" by emphasizing her own position on the importance of the text and of having students read "real books" rather than excerpts in a textbook. She also reprimands Peterson for what she perceives as a statement with racist implications (which seemed to me to be straining at a gnat). She does not address the literature issue, suggesting that it is a "surface issue" and that discussion should be about "more substantive considerations" (963-65).
The most recent contribution to this topic is "Conversations With Texts: Reading in the Teaching of Composition" by Mariolina Salvatori in College English, April 1996. Salvatori's essay, however, moves in a somewhat different direction, although she sees it as entering "an ongoing argument or debate about the place of reading in the composition classroom" and alludes to Tate's and Lindemann's recent articles (441). Her focus is not on genre but on reading itself. She refers to William Coles' 1974 argument against using reading in the composition classroom and describes how she "began to see that what Coles was indicting was a particularly enervated, atrophied kind of reading" (442). Her remedy for this kind of reading is to use new literary theory to devise a way to teach reading and writing, or literature and composition, as interconnected disciplines. She suggests that to consider reading "as an analogue for thinking about one's own and others' thinking . . . justifies the presence of reading in composition classrooms not as a pretext but as a context for writing" (446). While Salvatori admits that it is difficult to develop teaching practices for this approach, she gives examples of some of her own methods for interconnecting writing with introspective reading. She also discusses and counters objections to her "theory and practice of reading/writing interconnectedness" (450).
Considering the many views voiced by the contributors, what position should a prospective English teacher take in relation to the use of literature in freshman composition and, more importantly, the purpose of the freshman writing class. Perhaps it would be desirable, as Peterson suggests, that First Year Composition instructors "agree on the nature and goal of English studies." I do not, however, consider that a practical suggestion, considering the difficulty in getting English teachers to agree on anything. That difficulty also leads me to doubt that there will ever be agreement on the purpose of the First Year Composition class. I do think, with Lindemann, that it is an important issue to discuss, and one that every English instructor needs to consider.
While most would agree that the purpose of the freshman English course is to teach writing, what kind of writing is to be taught? Is it to be the writing of academic discourse as Lindemann says, writing beyond the disciplines as Tate suggests, or writing outside the curriculum as Gamer advocates? Although Lindemann's three views attempt to address this question in a comprehensive way and may be seen by some as a valid discussion of varying perspectives of the writing class, I agree with Rounds that her characterizations are polarizing rather than clarifying. I also doubt the validity of her descriptions: none of the English instructors I know fit into her categories. So how do we decide?
I submit that we can follow what most of us do agree on and simply teach college level writing. I believe there are basic concepts to be taught that are transferable to most kinds of writing, whether academic (including both sciences and humanities), professional, or personal. These are the writing proficiencies an educated person is expected to have mastered. In these I would include unity, coherence, organization, and (certainly and perhaps especially) correctness. We should keep in mind the purpose of a college education, which is more than just job training and should produce, among other things, new and more sophisticated ways of thinking and communicating. The freshman writing class should help to begin that process.
If we determine our purpose as simply teaching college level writing, we then have a very broad choice of teaching practices from which to choose. We may teach process. We may use reading. We may use literature. I think Tate and others have given good reasons not to exclude any text from First Year Composition, but only if the use of that text teaches college-level writing. That is the crucial test. Is there a place for literature in English 101? My answer is a qualified yes.
"Four Comments on `Two Views on the Use of Literature in Composition.'" College English 55 (October 1993): 673-79.
Gamer, Michael. "Fictionalizing the Disciplines: Literature and the Boundaries of Knowledge." College English 57 (March 1995): 281-86.
Lindemann, Erika. "Erika Lindemann Responds." College English 57 (December 1995): 961-63.
---. "Freshman Composition: No Place for Literature." College English 55 (March 1993): 311-16.
---. "Three Views of English 101." College English 57 (March 1995): 287-302.
Linett, Deena. "A Comment on `Through the Looking-Glass: A Response.'" College English 57 (December 1995): 963-65.
Peterson, Jane. "Through the Looking-Glass: A Response." College English 57 (March 1995): 310-18.
Rounds, Jon. "A Comment on `Three Views of English 101.'" College English 57 (December 1995): 960-61.
Salvatori, Mariolina. "Conversations with Texts: Reading in the Teaching of Composition." College English 58 (April 1996): 440-53.
Steinberg, Erwin. "Imaginative Literature in Composition Classrooms?" College English 57 (March 1995): 266-80.
Tate, Gary. "Notes on the Dying of a Conversation." College English 57 (March 1995): 303-09.
---. "A Place for Literature in Freshman Composition." College English 55 (March 1993): 317-22.