Alla Yarho. French literature lesson

French literature lesson
Alla Yarho

Publication date: November 8, 2000

In October, the Russian Journal published a very practical and reasonable article by K. Polivanov about the teaching of literature in Russian schools. In addition to the purely informational role of literature, Polivanov notes two tasks that literature is called upon to fulfill: 1) it teaches to understand a “foreign” language and thereby fosters tolerance and the ability to make contact with an interlocutor; 2) it creates a common field, a common language, a common culture.

I have long had the impression that the teaching of literature in France is based precisely on these two pillars. It appeared already at the beginning of our life in France, since the children immediately went to school, and there was time to compare the methods of teaching literature in France and in Russia.

However, I didn’t want to limit myself to “home” experiences. Therefore, intending to speculate about how things stand with this in France, I conducted something like a personal sociological study - namely, for a month I talked about this topic with all the French who came to hand - fortunately, my circle of acquaintances is quite wide, literally “from pioneers to retirees." Of course, there could not be a real sociological survey, but I was more interested in private opinions than statistics.

One of the most significant differences in the teaching of literature in Russia and France is that in our country the main attention has always been paid to ideas, while in France the main subject of analysis is the language and style of the author. (In order not to repeat myself, I refer you to my article “Who goes where, and I’m off to the Sorbonne,” where quite a lot was said about teaching literature, including teaching the ability to reason and respond to someone else’s thought.)

Even at the very beginning of the school literature course, when children aged 11-12 are taught to write their very first essays, they are often given the following task: to finish a passage in the style of the author. Later, when learning acquires a deeper character, the analysis of a text fragment is always carried out from the point of view of its stylistic features, and, in fact, nothing else is provided. This is probably why schoolchildren study not so much the whole work as many passages, but the corresponding fragments are subject to careful literary and linguistic analysis.

Some literature teachers told me that they felt completely happy and their task accomplished when the students suddenly “made a stand” on Céline’s text or remarked regarding Simenon: “It’s interesting to read, but it’s poorly written.” This way of teaching indeed often leads to the fact that the most uninterested students suddenly discover the beauty of language, the “flow of words” - as one graduate student put it. She told me a fact that amazed me: given the general decline in interest among young people in classical literature, if they read anything from the classics on their own initiative, it is poetry, and old poetry - Ronsard and Lamartine - and precisely because they are attracted by beauty language.

Before talking about literature as the creator of a common cultural space, it would be quite appropriate to ask the question: why exactly and only classical literature is capable of creating it? After all, if you remember what our Moscow kitchen gatherings always consisted of, then often, if not always, these were discussions of contemporary authors. We all read practically the same thing: Trifonov , Voinovich , Rasputin , Aitmatov , not to mention Solzhenitsyn or Zinoviev . The first time I heard that things were completely different in the West was at a speech by Voinovich, who came “on leave” at the height of perestroika.

I will not talk here about the understandable reasons for this discrepancy, especially since the current state of affairs in Russia is quite close to Western abundance - the choice of books in stores is extremely wide and, in terms of the impossibility of grasping the immensity, is already quite comparable to what is happening in the West. However, here this state of affairs has existed for decades and when choosing books, people are mainly guided by personal tastes. After all, everyone knows that any book you pick up will obviously say that this is a number one bestseller and that humanity has never read anything better.

By the way, even prestigious literary awards do not always serve as a sufficient recommendation. There are people who will definitely read Goncourt’s novel, but there are also those who will first leaf through it and then put it aside altogether: and not because it is too “smart,” but this book simply does not suit their interests. Naturally, in such a situation, the creation of a general cultural space can only be ensured by the classics. Although, as you will see below, popular modern books can also quite qualify for a place in the school curriculum.

Even behind our “Iron Curtain,” we, in general, always knew that there were two great literatures in the world: Russian and French. Now try this thought experiment with yourself: which writers, in your opinion, are “typical representatives” of great French literature? For some reason, it seems to me that your list will largely coincide with mine.

Here it is: Hugo , Balzac , Stendhal, Maupassant , Zola, Flaubert .

And here is the list I received from the French: Rabelais , Montaigne , Montesquieu, Diderot, Voltaire, Rousseau, Chateaubriand, Lafontaine. Well, and of course, the unchanging trinity: Corneille, Racine, Moliere .

Two of my good French friends, literature teachers at the university, once discussed among themselves which French writer was the most complete expression of France - and came to the conclusion that it could only be Moliere.

Much less often they call Zola and Balzac. Stendhal and Flaubert, in my opinion, were not mentioned even once. As you can see, the Age of Enlightenment, which was so important for the French, occupies a significant place in this list. This, however, is understandable - great literature took shape in France much earlier than in Russia. Our classical literature comes from Pushkin. Maybe this is why, for us, great French literature begins in our native 19th century?

Be that as it may, I wanted to find out whether this particular literature is alive for my French environment, to what extent this common language, common field is present in their consciousness.

It is interesting that the degree of ardor and interest of listeners when discussing this problem turned out to be directly proportional to age.

Pensioners talked about literature excitedly. It was clear that for them this was truly an integral part of life. Many remember by heart and quote Rousseau, La Rochefoucauld's maxims, and the endings of La Fontaine's fables. (However, many of us also remember by heart both about the monkey, which “has become weak-eyed in old age,” and about “the smoke of the fatherland” - it’s hard for me to judge how common the quotes that were given to me are.) They remember with great pleasure that how they taught literature at school. (Again, maybe this is simply explained by nostalgia for youth?) By the way, keep in mind that my interlocutors were by no means intellectuals - these people worked all their lives, either as secretaries or accountants. One of them, a former military man and, to put it mildly, a narrow-minded man, told me that he understood a lot about life and love from Racine’s plays. (This can also be given a “down-to-earth” explanation - it is possible that after graduating from school, he never read any more books.)

By some quirk of fate, the next age group of my interlocutors largely consisted of school literature teachers. It must be said that this is a completely special layer in French society. Their difference from “normal” people is very difficult to determine, but in their reasoning, views, and approach to life there is something subtly common, partly scholastic, partly idealistic (with a bias toward leftism). And of course, they all obsessively love French literature.

The prestige of the profession of teaching literature in France cannot be compared with that in Russia. However, talking to them only about literature is almost impossible. They immediately turn the conversation to the shortcomings of teaching and express complaints about the perception of literature by schoolchildren (which, in general, is understandable, given the professional problems of my interlocutors) - but more on that below.

Naturally, when asked directly what role classical literature plays in their lives, they sincerely and enthusiastically answer that it is very important. And since the importance of literature in everyone’s life depends to the greatest extent on family upbringing and traditions, as a rule, it is classical works that children love to read. And if, unlike their parents, they do not re-read the classics, then at least they have the habit of reading modern literature.

This is what a 25-year-old young woman told me. Even if the teaching of literature at school is perceived by many students as something imposed from above, fifteen years later this experience is remembered as unconditionally positive, allowing one to learn something new. So, thanks to school, she discovered “Dangerous Liaisons” by Choderlos de Laclos. (But Hugo’s Les Misérables left her completely indifferent.)

One of my close friends told me that her school life was spent surrounded by Algerian children who were forced to emigrate to France after the Algerian War because they fought on the side of the French. The situation in which these families found themselves in France was quite difficult: poor housing, unemployment, long-term immigrant status - all this could not but cause feelings of bitterness and protest in their children. But at the same time, they also had a fierce desire to become French .

The school, with its integrating role, provided them with invaluable help in this. According to my interlocutor, “they simply attacked Moliere.” And for herself, who grew up in a working-class family with only a few books in the house, school also turned out to be a way to break through to a higher intellectual level. She defended her dissertation, translated Leskov’s “Lefty” into French, and now teaches Russian literature at the university with great pleasure.

The picture would be, if not rosy, then quite positive if almost all of my interlocutors did not mention the radical changes that have occurred over the past 20 years. Everyone without exception agrees on this figure. In the 1980s, France experienced an economic crisis and rising unemployment, as a result of which it suddenly became clear that education itself does not guarantee a job. This was a kind of watershed between the era when education was received “for pleasure”, and the present day, when it began to seem that only practical, utilitarian knowledge guarantees work, and therefore education should develop in this direction.

It is possible, however, that the origins of change should be sought in 1968, which dramatically and profoundly changed many things in France. Culturally, this era partly corresponded to the first post-revolutionary years in Russia, when it was proposed to throw the classics off the ship of modernity. Similar feelings were possessed at that moment by young people who no longer wanted to read Racine and Corneille, but idolized Sartre and Camus . Fortunately, this did not particularly harm either Corneille or Racine - their place in the history of French culture is unshakable. But at least from that moment on, classical literature began to lose its aura of obligation.

A twenty-year-old student, whose mother is the organizer and director of the municipal library, when asked whether his and his brother’s parents introduced him to classical literature, replied that they belonged to the generation of ’68. Therefore, he read, for example, “Life and Fate” by Grossman , but did not read Stendhal.

From the point of view of both parents and literature teachers, another reason for the loss of interest is that classical literature in France (as in Russia) is taught to children unacceptably early. It is unlikely that a girl of twelve years old can enjoy Corneille's "Cid". Even teenagers of fourteen and fifteen years have not yet accumulated enough experience of “sentimental education” to feel involved in the experiences of Madame Bovary.

Without denying the formative role of literature in teaching, many believe that children should first be interested in works of modern literature. And then they will understand that literature is, in general, good.

The decline in interest in reading is a phenomenon that is difficult for people of my generation to come to terms with. Most of our childhood and youth was devoted to reading - both because it was the most natural, approved and interesting leisure time, and because there was simply no other leisure time at that time. And the very rhythm of life 40-50 years ago was even much more traditional, which also explains a lot.

Modern clips, in which one image is replaced by another in a split second and which we, a dying tribe, cannot really watch due to the frames flashing too quickly, do not cause any problems for teenagers - and this, in my opinion, is the best example of how The rhythm and pace of life has noticeably, truly physiologically changed. And it is possible that this is precisely the main explanation for the massive loss of interest in reading - a leisurely activity that requires the ability to concentrate.

Actually, the novel “Slowness” by one of my favorite contemporary writers, Milan Kundera, is dedicated to this very problem. From his point of view, there is a secret connection between slowness and memory, as well as between speed and forgetting. He even derives an elementary mathematical formula: the degree of leisure is directly proportional to the intensity of memory, and the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting.

Our good friend, an engineer at the IBM company, told us that as a child he lived in a Breton village, where at that time all the peasants still wore sabots (shoes made from a single piece of wood), and he was able to recognize by the gait and creaking of the sabot exactly who neighbors pass by. This was only fifty years ago, but now clogs can only be seen in a museum. In any case, these days it is a much more exotic thing than a computer.

It is clear that if over the past 50 years the world has changed so rapidly, and teaching in general (and literature in particular) has remained almost the same as it was, then fierce attacks on the current education system cannot be avoided. The question is certainly complex and painful for many. However, is it not this continuity (or inertia? - the assessment depends on the point of view of the speaker) that guarantees that several generations in the country have the same points of reference, even if they are not recognized as such.

And what is the general function of education - to prepare students for the specifics of life or to form in them a common cultural field and the ability to think?

School programs

In conclusion, I would like to tell you in a few words how the teaching of literature works in a French school.

It begins in secondary school, at the age of 11-12 years. At the same time, the French language is taught - conjugations, grammatical tenses, analysis of sentences - this is all familiar to us. Teaching grammar itself ends at the end of college (eight-year school in our opinion).

During the year, the teacher goes through 3-4 works with the students, and almost until the end of school, the choice of books is entirely left to the teacher. Sometimes this is a choice based on a pre-specified topic: for example, a romantic drama or any work by Andre Malraux. Now the situation has begun to change somewhat, especially in the penultimate and final classes, when there is an exam in literature (in the penultimate class everyone takes it, in the final year only those who have chosen a humanitarian specialization take it again) - in this case, the list of works is more strictly recommended by the Ministry education.

In the lower grades, two works are traditionally chosen from the corpus of French classical literature: Moliere will almost always be chosen, and the second classical work will be something from Corneille, Racine, La Fontaine, Flaubert. It is expected that students at home will read the entire work themselves, while in class, together with the teacher, they will analyze only excerpts. In classes with a humanitarian bias, eight hours a week are devoted to literature, in classes with a natural science focus - from two to four.

Here is an example of several programs that seems quite interesting and indicative to me.

2nd grade (16-17 years old), natural sciences

Moliere, "School for Wives"

Vercors, "The Silence of the Sea"

Le Clezio, stories (modern French writer, stories about youth)

Excerpts from Rabelais, Kafka, poems by Lamartine

2nd grade (16-17 years old), humanitarian focus

Moliere, "The Miser"

Corneille, "Sid"

Anne Frank's Diary

“The Circle of Dead Poets” by N. Kleinbau (this text was included after the release in 1989 of the extremely popular film of the same name based on this book)

Graduation class (18-19 years old), humanitarian focus

Chrétien de Troyes, "Lancelot" (12th century)

Calderon, "Life is a Dream" (XVII century)

Camus, "The Fall"

A collection of poems by the modern French-speaking Senegalese poet, the first president of Senegal, Léopold Sédar Senghor

In addition, literature classes are simultaneously built around a certain topic. For example, if the theme of the “city” is chosen, then at the choice of a teacher, excerpts from the works related to this topic are analyzed and discussed. And here are a few more topics: "garden", "description of oneself", "irony", "recognition of love." In the last grade, my daughter, for example, had even the theme of “Libertinage” (Libertinage), during the study of which they read excerpts from “dangerous ties” and works of de Garden.