The Poetic Turn
Or, Will This Be on the Test?
Every couple of years, a frustrated junior or senior will ask me, “how can I do better?” The question itself is not uncommon; rather it is the tone and demeanor that make an impression. Often the question means, “how can I raise my grade?” But when a student’s tone says, “I want to understand how to do this thing well,” it stands out. I’ve taken to calling this the student’s Poetic Turn, and I try to help them understand it by giving them a couple of questions to consider.
First, “what kind of connections do you see in the works we read?” Unlike asking that question in class, this presses the student to understand the dialectic between themselves and the author. When no one is prodding them on, do they still see hints of the Great Conversation in everything they read? Close reading exercises are an excellent way for students to develop the habit of recognizing the whole and the parts together, viewing the text as a person we can come to know. A close friend knows the facial expression I make when I deliver a funny joke, but also possesses the composite memory of our friendship. The student who is beginning to see the books they read in a similar light is well on their way to the Poetic Turn.
Second, “what are you reading outside of class?” Students in a classical school read good books all the time. Typically, they do so because they are compelled by their teacher or parents. A student’s selected reading reveals a great deal to an observant teacher. Does the student see a book of poetry and instinctively pick it up to read a few lines? Or do they only read poetry when it’s assigned? How these habits affect their imaginations will manifest in their writing and their discussion contributions. Do they read Jane Austen or John Ruskin outside of class? Or do they rush home to pick up where they left off in Harry Potter? Even a compelling story, told in poorly constructed prose, will hamper their wordplay.
James V. Schall writes of “intellectual poverty” which primarily consists in the “refusal to ask the fundamental questions of life—about creation, death, freedom, sin, redemption, virtue—together with an unwillingness to listen to the answers, including the revelational answers, to these questions” (On the Unseriousness of Human Affairs 94). Students approaching the Poetic Turn in their studies are moving out of intellectual poverty and into intellectual richness that they could barely conceive of before. Students who challenge themselves in these small ways I’ve outlined above will not only see improvement themselves; they will also draw their classmates closer to the Poetic Turn. Few things could make a teacher more proud.



