The Return of the Educators

On the way to Boston this past Friday, May 8, from New Jersey. (Photo by me.) Unsurprisingly, we were behind a car with Massachusetts plates…I think.

My wife Laurel and I were in Boston the past couple days picking up our younger daughter Maria from her first year of college, meaning I didn’t have a lot of time to write. Because of that, I figured I’d rerun a post…and it seemed appropriate to have that literature piece be about educators — whether professors or teachers of younger students. But I’ve done several posts over the years featuring fictional (and actual) educators, so I decided to reference all of them.

In 2023, I discussed real-life authors who also are or were professors.

“And why not?,” I wrote back then. “Teaching uses different creative muscles, is a source of additional income (not all well-known novelists are rich), gets authors away from their solitary writing desks into some semblance of the real world, enables them to help budding writers, gives them insight into what young people are thinking, etc. Perhaps their teaching also indirectly infuses their own writing, or even directly if a book they pen has an academic setting. On the other hand, teaching time does take away from writing time.”

I added, “In some cases, dual-duty authors were professors who later became novelists. But perhaps in more cases, they first gained some renown as novelists — after which universities came a-calling.”

The living and deceased authors/professors I named in that 2023 post included Jhumpa Lahiri (Barnard College); Toni Morrison (Princeton University, Rutgers University, etc.); Joyce Carol Oates (Princeton, University of California, Berkeley); Jeffrey Eugenides (Princeton, New York University); Zadie Smith (also NYU); Viet Thanh Nguyen (University of Southern California); Junot Diaz (Massachusetts Institute of Technology); Kent Haruf (Nebraska Wesleyan University); Vladimir Nabokov (Wellesley College, Cornell University); and J.R.R. Tolkien (University of Oxford).

In 2021, 2015, and 2012 posts (the earliest one for The Huffington Post two years before this blog’s 2014 launch), I discussed fictional educators. Many who are as smart, hardworking, and compassionate as some of our favorite real-life teachers we might fondly recall when reading about fictional ones.

Literature’s memorable educators include — among others — Anne Shirley in Anne of Avonlea, the first sequel to L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables; Charles Chipping of James Hilton’s Goodbye, Mr. Chips; Ricky Braithwaite of E.R. Braithwaite’s autobiographical novel To Sir, With Love; Dan Needham of John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany; and Jane Eyre, briefly a teacher in Charlotte Bronte’s novel after that character spent a longer time as a teacher of another sort: being a governess.

Children’s fiction also has some great teachers — with one I mentioned in a previous post being Ms. Frizzle of The Magic School Bus books written by Joanna Cole and illustrated by Bruce Degen.

Of course, not all teachers are terrific and/or admirable. In past posts I cited the bumbling Gilderoy Lockhart of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series; the charismatic but fascist-leaning title character in Muriel Spark’s The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie; the means-well-but-overwhelmed Ida Ramundo of Elsa Morante’s novel History; and the comedic-but-a-bit-irresponsible Aimee Lanthenay of Colette’s Claudine at School.

When previously naming fictional professors, I noted that a number of them are quirky — which obviously can make for interesting reading. I added: “There can be drama in their interactions with students, in their competitive relationships with fellow profs, in their sometimes-fraught encounters with university administrators, in their quests for tenure, and in the whole publish-or-perish thing. All that makes up for the fact they are (usually) not the heroic, adventurous sorts who can make readers turn pages faster than tuition payments drain a bank account.”

Among literature’s other fictional profs are Howard Belsey and Monty Kipps of Zadie Smith’s On Beauty; Gauri Mitra of Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Lowland; William Stoner of John Williams’ Stoner; Virginia “Vinnie” Miner and Fred Turner of Alison Lurie’s Foreign Affairs; Tony Fremont (a woman) of Margaret Atwood’s The Robber Bride; Humphrey Clark of Margaret Drabble’s The Sea Lady; Grady Tripp of Michael Chabon’s Wonder Boys; and Godfrey St. Peter of Willa Cather’s The Professor’s House.

I asked this before in previous posts on this topic, but you’re welcome to again name some of your favorite fictional educators.

Happy Mother’s Day to my wife Laurel, who is…a professor. 🙂 This photo of her was taken last month in New York City.

Misty the cat says: “My teen human is home from college, so I sleep extra in celebration.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which discusses my town’s grim school budget and more — is here.

More of the Morose

Last week, I wrote about some of literature’s comedic or part-comedic novels. This week, I’ll flip that to discuss some of the saddest novels. Given that I covered this topic in a post eight years ago, I’ll focus on novels I’ve read since then — whether those books were published before or after 2018.

Of course, sad novels are not always 100% bleak; they perhaps contain some happier moments and/or semi-optimistic endings. But they’re downbeat overall.

Kristin Hannah’s excellent fiction can certainly leave a reader shaken. For instance, her 1970s-set novel The Great Alone (2018) is a depressing look at a Vietnam War veteran living in the Alaskan wilderness and how his post-traumatic stress wreaks havoc on himself, his wife, and their teen daughter.

Elin Hilderbrand’s also-excellent fiction is considered somewhat “lighter” than Hannah’s, but she does often wrestle with major personal and societal issues. One of Hilderbrand’s more melancholy novels is 28 Summers (2020), about a cancer-stricken woman who had a longtime one-weekend-a-year affair with her soulmate while she and him lived separate family lives the rest of the time. A superb book amid the sorrow.

In-between the two above novels arrived Colson Whitehead’s partly 1960s-set The Nickel Boys (2019), a heartbreaking look at abuse in a Florida reform school and at racism in general. Whitehead’s earlier The Underground Railroad (2016) — which unfolds in 19th-century slavery times — is another very good novel that will leave readers morose. Both Whitehead books won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction.

Barbara Kingsolver’s later Pulitzer winner Demon Copperhead isn’t all dispiriting, but the scourge of opioid addiction and the poverty depicted in the 2022 novel leave readers dejected even as they’re impressed with the author’s modern reimagining of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield.

Moving to some older novels I’ve read since 2018, we have Michael Crichton’s 1990 sci-fi thriller Jurassic Park in which the hubris of using DNA to recreate living dinosaurs in the 20th century results in lots of destruction by those out-of-their-element dinos.

Twenty-five years earlier, there was John Edward Williams’ 1965 Stoner novel about a farm-raised boy who becomes an English professor but lives a personal life marked by an unhappy marriage and other disappointments. Again, a really good novel amid the sorrow.

Another 1965 release was James Leo Herlihy’s Midnight Cowboy (better known for the 1969 movie adaptation) about a naive Texan’s odyssey in New York City and the discouraging experiences of he and his down-and-out, ill-fated friend.

In 1957 came Nevil Shute’s On the Beach, about Australians waiting to die from a deadly wave of nuclear war-caused radiation heading their way. Almost any apocalyptic/dystopian novel would be eligible for this post.

Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice (1912) is exquisitely written and set in one of the most beautiful cities on the planet, but the plot is full of unrequited obsession — and then comes the cholera outbreak.

In 1833, Alexander Pushkin’s novel-in-verse Eugene Onegin was published after appearing in serial form between 1825 and 1832. A depressingly brilliant work filled with boredom, arrogance, selfishness, an ill-fated duel, a missed romantic opportunity, and more.

Among the sad novels I mentioned in my 2018 post were Andre Dubus III’s House of Sand and Fog (1999), Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things (1997), Toni Morrison’s Beloved (1987), Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s The Leopard (1958), Erich Maria Remarque’s Spark of Life (1952), George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949), Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth (1905), Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure (1895), Emile Zola’s Germinal (1885), George Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss (1860), Mary Shelley’s The Last Man (1826), and Sir Walter Scott’s The Bride of Lammermoor (1819).

Your thoughts on this post, and examples of sad novels you’ve read?

Misty the cat says: “I was gonna give Dave this tree for his birthday but it’s stuck in the ground.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about a VERY close budget referendum and a not-close but controversial development decision — is here.