Is It Time to Close the Book on Shakespeare in Class?
Picture this: a high school literature classroom. Twenty teenagers stare at a page filled with words like “wherefore,” “thou,” “hath,” and sentences that twist like pretzels. Groans are stifled, brows are furrowed. They’re wrestling not with profound themes of love, power, or jealousy, but simply with the archaic language itself. This scene plays out daily in schools across the English-speaking world, reigniting a persistent question: do we need to stop being taught Shakespearean texts and language as a mandatory cornerstone of education?
For centuries, Shakespeare has held an almost sacred position in curricula. He’s lauded as the pinnacle of English literature, the inventor of countless words and phrases we still use (often unknowingly), and a master storyteller whose works explore the timeless depths of the human condition. Proponents argue that studying Shakespeare builds cultural literacy, critical thinking, and an appreciation for linguistic beauty. To remove him, they say, would be an unforgivable dumbing down.
But let’s be honest. The primary hurdle isn’t necessarily the complexity of Hamlet’s existential angst or Macbeth’s ruthless ambition – it’s the 400-year-old language barrier. Early Modern English, as Shakespeare wrote it, is fundamentally foreign to modern students. It requires constant translation, footnotes, and teacher intervention just to grasp the basic plot, let alone appreciate the nuances of metaphor or dramatic irony. This immense effort often overshadows the actual literary value. Students spend so much energy decoding “Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard?” that they never get to the heart of Lady Macbeth’s terrifying ambition or the societal pressures driving her.
This intense focus on linguistic archaeology raises a critical question about educational value and time. Is this the best use of limited classroom hours? Could students gain more profound insights into character development, narrative structure, and thematic exploration by engaging with equally complex, challenging, but accessible contemporary literature or diverse voices from the 20th and 21st centuries? Texts written in the language students actually speak and read outside the classroom offer a more direct route to developing analytical skills and a love for reading.
Furthermore, the Shakespearean canon, as traditionally taught, presents a notoriously narrow perspective. It’s overwhelmingly white, male, and European. While themes like love, jealousy, and power are universal, the specific contexts and characters reflect a world vastly different from our diverse, globalized society. Mandating Shakespeare often crowds out essential opportunities to explore literature by women, people of color, LGBTQ+ authors, and writers from non-Western traditions. These voices offer different lenses on the human experience, fostering empathy and understanding crucial for navigating the modern world. An overemphasis on Shakespeare inadvertently reinforces a literary hierarchy that marginalizes other rich traditions and perspectives.
This isn’t to say Shakespeare lacks merit. His influence on the English language is undeniable. His plots are foundational, endlessly adapted. His exploration of human psychology remains powerful. The argument isn’t necessarily to “ban” Shakespeare entirely, but to seriously rethink his mandatory position and the way he’s taught.
Imagine a literature curriculum where Shakespeare becomes an option within a broader, more inclusive canon – perhaps an elective for those particularly drawn to drama or linguistic history. Imagine studying his influence – how his stories are retold in modern films, novels, or even popular music – demonstrating his enduring legacy without forcing every student to grapple with the original, impenetrable text. Imagine prioritizing texts where the language itself isn’t the primary obstacle to comprehension and engagement, allowing deeper dives into themes and craft.
The goal of literature education should be to ignite a passion for reading, develop critical thinking, foster empathy through diverse stories, and equip students with strong communication skills. Forcing students to constantly battle archaic language can actively work against these goals, creating frustration and turning reading into a chore rather than a joy. It risks alienating students who might otherwise discover a love for literature through more accessible, relatable texts.
The reverence for Shakespeare often feels less like a pedagogical choice and more like cultural inertia. “We teach it because we’ve always taught it.” But education shouldn’t be a museum; it should be dynamic, responsive to the needs and realities of the learners. Clinging to Shakespeare as a mandatory rite of passage risks valuing tradition over genuine learning outcomes and relevance.
Perhaps it’s time to pass the torch. To acknowledge Shakespeare’s historical importance while freeing up space in the curriculum for the vibrant, challenging, and diverse literature being written right now. To prioritize texts that speak directly to students in a language they understand, opening doors to complex ideas without the unnecessary hurdle of linguistic translation. Let’s stop making the decoding of 16th-century English the default benchmark for literary achievement in high school.
Instead, let’s build a curriculum rich with voices that reflect the multifaceted world students inhabit, fostering a genuine, accessible love for the power of story and language. That seems like a far more worthy, and ultimately more successful, educational endeavour. The Bard’s legacy is secure; our classrooms deserve a legacy that speaks clearly and powerfully to the readers of today and tomorrow. We don’t need to erase him from history – we just need to move him off the mandatory pedestal and make room for a new generation of essential voices.
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