What’s the value of a degree in English? Ask the moose.

Sometimes I miss being an English major.

Ever wonder what it’s like getting a Bachelor’s degree in English? Lemme break it down for ya. You take a bunch of classes on literature. The word “literature” derives from an old Anglo-Saxon term for “books whose only purpose is to provide fodder for writing papers.” Oh sure, there were a few books that we read in class that I really enjoyed. Most of them, however, I wouldn’t touch with a 39 and a half foot pole if I wasn’t required to read them for class. I’d never choose them on my own. And I’m someone who likes reading.

I know what you’re thinking. “If these books are so awful, Amy, what made being an English major fun?” you ask.

I’m glad you asked, because now I can tell you. Hopefully my insider knowledge of surviving English literature classes will help you in whatever lit class you’re required to take someday. What made it fun was the class discussion.

So the class would be required to read some book you’ve never heard of, but even though no one has ever heard of it, it’s considered A Literary Classic. How it became A Classic when no one knows what it is…well, that’s because “classic” doesn’t mean “popular.” It means “obscure and pretentious so that only academics enjoy it.” For the purposes of today’s blog, we’re going to say that we’re discussing the great American novel The Silent Moose*. Ever heard of it? No? Okay, we’re off to a good start.

In every class there’s always at least one person who actually understands the book, or at least has reached the same conclusion that the professor has, which is what is required to actually understand the book. That person may change from book to book. So maybe Susie understands The Silent Moose, but completely missed the point of another classic such as The Sound And The Fury. (There is no point to The Sound And The Fury. It’s stream of consciousness nonsense.)

Then you have The Coasters. These are people who don’t speak up in class, but give the appearance of following along by coasting off whatever comment(s) are made. So let’s say Susie (the one who actually understands The Silent Moose) raises her hand and says “I really liked what the novel had to say about the evils of consumerism in 20th century rural South Dakota.” That’s their cue. The less experienced Coasters will simply nod in agreement. Your veteran Coasters will make a comment of their own that basically echoes what Susie said, but amplifies it to the nth degree. “YES!” says Cara Coaster. “I LOVED what it had say about the evils of consumerism in 20th century rural South Dakota. I mean…WOW. It was so powerful. The Silent Moose may be the BEST novel on this subject. Hands down.”

Cara Coaster knows she didn’t add anything. The professor probably knows it too. But she gets points for enthusiasm.

A sizeable chunk of the class is comprised of The Reachers. This group knows that their interpretation is a long shot. But that won’t stop them from reaching for an explanation. Sometimes a reacher is reaching because s/he really isn’t sure what’s going on. You can spot this kind of reacher by his or her excessive use of Literary Buzzwords.

“Rita Reacher, what did you think about chapter three?” the professor will ask.

“I think it had some great things to say about society,” Rita will quip.

The Professor is skeptical that Rita actually has read this piece. “What exactly does it say about society?” the professor will probe.

Cue the Literary Buzzword assault. “Well, I think it has a lot to say about class roles. A Marxist neo-feminist Gothic romantic reading of the text suggests that the main character, or protagonist, if you will, struggles from deep angst due to the patriarchal proletariat frenzy of the day which is equal parts Utopian and dystopian when looked at through a Freudian lens.”

Most professors will know that sentence was complete nonsense, but don’t want to call Rita out on her bluff for fear she will unleash more ridiculousness. So Rita gets points for participation and is safe from questioning for the rest of the class.

Your more adventurous Reacher will advance a preposterous theory JUST FOR THE SPORT OF IT. The analysis might actually have some merit upon further review.  Or it might be completely nonsensical, but through careful application of the Literary Buzzwords referenced earlier it may be convincing. Either way, this Reacher wants to see if you’ll buy it — or at the very least get riled up and distract everyone.

“Professor!” says Rachel Reacher. (This Reacher does not wait for an invitation.) “What about the role of the moose?”

“What do you mean? There is no moose in The Silent Moose,” says the professor. (If you’ve ever taken an English Literature class, it should come as no surprise that the title doesn’t actually relate to the book.)

Rachel is undaunted. “Of course there’s a moose in this book. He’s invisible.”

Confused whispers and murmurings are heard through the room. “An invisible moose? Is she nuts?” “Maybe there is a moose. I couldn’t understand what the hell was going on half the time.”

“Think about it,” says Rachel. “What about the part in chapter twelve when Caroline has a nervous breakdown and is carted off to the psych ward? It’s because she saw the invisible moose and no one believed her.”

The Professor intervenes at this point. “I don’t want to tell you how to interpret the text, but most scholars agree that the breakdown was the result of her lover being killed in the manufacturing plant fire, which of course represents the evils of consumerism in 20th century rural South Dakota.”

“Well,” says Rachel, “what if the moose started the fire? On page 102 it does mention Caroline’s lover hearing quote ‘a strange sound of many footsteps scurrying away just before the flames took hold’. MANY FOOTSTEPS. Yet only one person, crazy Old Man Joe, was accused of the fire. How were there many footsteps? The moose did it. But who would know that if you can’t see the moose?”

More frenzied whispering from the class ensues. “Crazy Old Man Joe was framed. The moose is real and HE DID IT! And he drove Caroline crazy. The moose is the real villain of this story.”

A sigh is heard from the professor. “And why would the moose be the villain?”

Rachel shrugs. “Maybe the moose is anti-capitalism. He must be a communist.”

Now the class is really talking. Some are still firmly in the professor’s camp, but Rachel Reacher is winning converts. Or maybe they’re just fellow Reachers enjoying seeing one of their own win the discussion. Regardless, everyone’s paying attention now.

At this point, it’s time to wrap up. The Professor encourages everyone to start working on their term paper on The Silent Moose, imagining what oddities lie ahead when it comes time to grade said papers. The students go their separate ways, some still talking about today’s discussion. Some suggest that they go for coffee to discuss it further because the themes are just SO FASCINATING. The Professor contemplates whether to switch books for next semester but realizes that the Coasters and Reachers will always be there no matter what the text.

So that’s what being an English major is like. I’ll bet you’re wondering what group I fell into. Honestly, I played a variety of roles depending on where I was at. Once I completely forgot to read a book for class. I briefly attempted to bluff my way through it before fessing up that I had forgotten about the assignment. Feeling guilty, I went back and read it later. It had a lot of great material. I wish I had read it on time so I could have participated in the discussion. What would I have said if I had been prepared? I’ll sum it up for you in a few simple words:

THE MOOSE DID IT.

*As I’m sure you figured out, I made this book up. But I call dibs on the title should I ever feel the need to write a compelling classic novel about the evils of consumerism in 20th century rural South Dakota.