Proposed: a Literary Canon for All

Today, our shared values are fast being replaced by a hodgepodge as we try to better reflect the myriad cultures now present in America. The call for inclusion is deafening.

What “basic” texts must American students study? Who will decide, and how? Can we ingest enough of the same ideas to understand one another and gain a sense of our shared values and common purpose? Can we maintain a shared memory?

Now you may expect that as an African American, I am a champion of inclusion. To a degree, I am. But I have a slightly different take on it. I want to shorten the canon, to include only five works: the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Bible and McGuffey’s Reader.

Gabriel Garcia-Marquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man,” Marcel Proust’s “Remembrance of Things Past,” Toni Morrison’s “Song Of Solomon;” Pablo Neruda’s “Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair” are worth reading, but in no way should they be part of a national canon. Their inclusion would be only representative of my tastes, my experiences, my world view.

No individual or group has the definitive answer about what makes someone well-read. People read for different reasons. Some seek poetry, some seek meaning, some seek entertainment. So, how do we address the issue of an American national memory, a memory preserved in its canon?

It has nothing to do with race. There are many black people in this country who do not share my experience. They may be recent immigrants from Nigeria, Zimbabwe, Barbados, Haiti, Belize, Mexico, England or France. They are black, but they are not African American, not yet. In many ways, I share more with American Indians, Mexican Americans, Chinese Americans, Jewish Americans, Japanese Americans, European Americans, Middle Eastern Americans than I do with my black brethren from other countries.

Those of us who have been here for many generations share the same American experience, with all of its pleasure and pain. We share smallpox-infested blankets, the end of the buffalo, Sitting Bull, the Alamo, Crispus Attucks, slavery, Harriet Tubman, the Tuskegee airmen, Reconstruction, California missions, the world wars, segregated armed forces, Japanese internment, the civil rights movement, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, John and Robert Kennedy, Cesar Chavez, Sputnik, Vietnam, Kent State. Because we share these and many other cultural understandings, we can carry on a common dialogue. Though we retain our native whateverness, fundamentally we are Americans.

The canon I propose, which consists of five basic works that have served America well, still can work. These five texts reinforce our founding principles. Without consistent buttressing of our national memory, we lose the sense of what the republic is.

Without a clear focus on our American canon, we distort the meaning of the freedoms we have. We forget that the flag is a symbol of why we are all here and why others yearn to be here, and we begin to burn it or wear it on our rear. We forget why freedom of speech is so important, and we begin to champion pornography, lies and innuendo as legitimate forms of free speech, thereby cheapening the moral character of individuals and the nation. We forget our right to privacy and succumb to increasing intrusions into our personal lives by agencies of all sorts. We forget ourselves as Americans.

The Declaration of Independence: call to action. The Constitution: foundation. The Bill of Rights: guarantees. The Bible: values, literature and history. McGuffey’s Reader: life lessons. These contain all of the values, lessons, mystery, intrigue, entertainment and answers to life dilemmas that other works only sample. They still work. They are the American spirit.

While there are many worthy works, these have given Americans a shared focus. Without this shared focus, we simply share territory.