McDonald 2004 Critical Reading 10-11 year olds.pdf - Oncourse

McDonald 2004 Critical Reading 10-11 year olds.pdf - Oncourse McDonald 2004 Critical Reading 10-11 year olds.pdf - Oncourse

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Literacy April 2004 17 Moving from reader response to critical reading: developing 1011-year-olds’ ability as analytical readers of literary texts Lorraine McDonald Abstract This article presents aspects of a research study into how a group of ten- and eleven-year-old students (in 5th Grade in Sydney, Australia) were apprenticed to view a literary text from critical reading positions. These ways of reading were an alternative to their more typical reader response interpretations of texts. The article contrasts ‘non-critical’ and ‘critical’ classroom talk through a close examination of transcript excerpts, and compares these kinds of talk as discrete ways of thinking and speaking. The article argues for a response-analytical continuum which may support young readers in moving towards critical reading practices. Introduction Over the past few decades there have been radical shifts in the way that readers have been asked to respond to literary texts in schools. When I was reading novels as a school and university student I was taught to search for the author’s meaning, which was a kind of ‘pre-determined’ entity I needed to seek out (Kempe, 1993, p. 307). A decade later, when I was first reading children’s literature with primary-age students in Sydney, Australia, the relationship between the literary text and my students’ life experiences was the focus for reading and for teaching (Luke and Freebody, 1997, p. 189). I suggest that this ‘reader response’ view of reading stories remains a dominant way of working with stories in classrooms today. More recently, reading pedagogy has drawn on a poststructuralist theory of texts in order to construct analytical, or critical, reading practices. To highlight the distinctions between reader response practices and critical reading practices, a brief summary of these different discursive positions is outlined. Reader response practices Reader response views of reading assert that readers utilise their lived social, political and economic reality, their knowledge of their own culture and their knowledge of other cultures to make meaning from texts. These experiences are all regarded as part of the ‘repertoire’ readers bring to an interpretation of literature (Iser, 1978). Thus, the subjectivity of the interpretative act is acknowledged and encouraged. In general, reader response practices promote the alignment of readers with the literary text through readers’ emotional participation with characters and analogising of experiences. In the reader response classroom, readers are expected to be active participants in constructing meaning from the text. Students’ interpretations of stories are encouraged and these interpretations are perceived to be ‘individual’, the product of an autonomous and conscious ‘self’. While readers are free to disagree with the meanings in the text, they do so from a subjective position. Baker (1992, 1997) argues that these responses and interpretations are constituted in the students’ cultural knowledge. In summary, reader response discourse has informed classroom practice in English-speaking countries for the past two decades. Critique of reader response Critical reading practices have developed within a poststructuralist view of reading, and offer a critique of ‘reader response’. From a poststructuralist view, when the personal experiences of the reader are integrated with the experiences of the characters, the subjectivity of the reader melds with the text. Arguably, when the reader’s stance is at one with the reader position constructed by the literary text, the ‘ways of thinking or being’ promoted by the text, that is, the text’s ‘discourses’ (Gee, 1996), remain hidden, and a truly ‘critical’ perspective is difficult to attain. Furthermore, despite emphases in reader response on the freedom of the reader, Winser (1993, p. 114) notes that students ‘‘are vulnerable’’ because of implicit ‘‘pressure to come up with a canonical reading, one that is socially approved in the school context’’. This is a hidden expectation of the practice of reader response, as Freebody (1991) noted in his study of examiners’ remarks on Australian high-school students’ responses to literature examination questions. Critical reading practices Critical reading models assert that texts position readers in certain ways. In this approach to reading, r UKLA 2003. Published by Blackwell Publishing, 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UK and 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA.

Literacy April <strong>2004</strong> 17<br />

Moving from reader response to critical<br />

reading: developing <strong>10</strong>–<strong>11</strong>-<strong>year</strong>-<strong>olds</strong>’ ability<br />

as analytical readers of literary texts<br />

Lorraine <strong>McDonald</strong><br />

Abstract<br />

This article presents aspects of a research study into how<br />

a group of ten- and eleven-<strong>year</strong>-old students (in 5th<br />

Grade in Sydney, Australia) were apprenticed to view a<br />

literary text from critical reading positions. These ways of<br />

reading were an alternative to their more typical reader<br />

response interpretations of texts. The article contrasts<br />

‘non-critical’ and ‘critical’ classroom talk through a close<br />

examination of transcript excerpts, and compares these<br />

kinds of talk as discrete ways of thinking and speaking.<br />

The article argues for a response-analytical continuum<br />

which may support young readers in moving towards<br />

critical reading practices.<br />

Introduction<br />

Over the past few decades there have been radical<br />

shifts in the way that readers have been asked to<br />

respond to literary texts in schools. When I was reading<br />

novels as a school and university student I was taught<br />

to search for the author’s meaning, which was a kind of<br />

‘pre-determined’ entity I needed to seek out (Kempe,<br />

1993, p. 307). A decade later, when I was first reading<br />

children’s literature with primary-age students in<br />

Sydney, Australia, the relationship between the literary<br />

text and my students’ life experiences was the focus for<br />

reading and for teaching (Luke and Freebody, 1997, p.<br />

189). I suggest that this ‘reader response’ view of<br />

reading stories remains a dominant way of working<br />

with stories in classrooms today. More recently, reading<br />

pedagogy has drawn on a poststructuralist theory<br />

of texts in order to construct analytical, or critical,<br />

reading practices. To highlight the distinctions between<br />

reader response practices and critical reading<br />

practices, a brief summary of these different discursive<br />

positions is outlined.<br />

Reader response practices<br />

Reader response views of reading assert that readers<br />

utilise their lived social, political and economic reality,<br />

their knowledge of their own culture and their knowledge<br />

of other cultures to make meaning from texts.<br />

These experiences are all regarded as part of the<br />

‘repertoire’ readers bring to an interpretation of<br />

literature (Iser, 1978). Thus, the subjectivity of the<br />

interpretative act is acknowledged and encouraged. In<br />

general, reader response practices promote the alignment<br />

of readers with the literary text through readers’<br />

emotional participation with characters and analogising<br />

of experiences.<br />

In the reader response classroom, readers are expected<br />

to be active participants in constructing meaning from<br />

the text. Students’ interpretations of stories are<br />

encouraged and these interpretations are perceived<br />

to be ‘individual’, the product of an autonomous and<br />

conscious ‘self’. While readers are free to disagree with<br />

the meanings in the text, they do so from a subjective<br />

position. Baker (1992, 1997) argues that these responses<br />

and interpretations are constituted in the students’<br />

cultural knowledge. In summary, reader response<br />

discourse has informed classroom practice in English-speaking<br />

countries for the past two decades.<br />

Critique of reader response<br />

<strong>Critical</strong> reading practices have developed within a<br />

poststructuralist view of reading, and offer a critique of<br />

‘reader response’. From a poststructuralist view, when<br />

the personal experiences of the reader are integrated<br />

with the experiences of the characters, the subjectivity<br />

of the reader melds with the text. Arguably, when the<br />

reader’s stance is at one with the reader position<br />

constructed by the literary text, the ‘ways of thinking<br />

or being’ promoted by the text, that is, the text’s<br />

‘discourses’ (Gee, 1996), remain hidden, and a truly<br />

‘critical’ perspective is difficult to attain. Furthermore,<br />

despite emphases in reader response on the freedom of<br />

the reader, Winser (1993, p. <strong>11</strong>4) notes that students<br />

‘‘are vulnerable’’ because of implicit ‘‘pressure to come<br />

up with a canonical reading, one that is socially<br />

approved in the school context’’. This is a hidden<br />

expectation of the practice of reader response, as<br />

Freebody (1991) noted in his study of examiners’<br />

remarks on Australian high-school students’ responses<br />

to literature examination questions.<br />

<strong>Critical</strong> reading practices<br />

<strong>Critical</strong> reading models assert that texts position<br />

readers in certain ways. In this approach to reading,<br />

r UKLA 2003. Published by Blackwell Publishing, 9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UK and 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA.


18 Moving from reader response to critical reading<br />

students investigate how this positioning occurs, and<br />

they may offer resistant readings to ‘mainstream’ ways<br />

of thinking articulated in the story. In this article, the<br />

term ‘mainstream’ signifies an assumption of ‘normal’,<br />

‘typical’ and ‘universal’ for dominant social and<br />

cultural practices (Baynham, 1995, p. 43). <strong>Critical</strong>/<br />

analytical practices have been seen, therefore, to<br />

propose an alternative to dominant reader-response<br />

interpretations of texts. The research presented here<br />

suggests, however, that a reader response stance can<br />

contribute to the formation of a critical reading<br />

position. The article concludes with the notion of a<br />

response-critical continuum which may be a useful<br />

concept for introducing young readers to alternative<br />

ways of thinking about literary texts.<br />

The term ‘critical reading’ here encapsulates alternative<br />

ways of reading which go beyond typical<br />

approaches to reading as word recognition, information<br />

processing, and personal response. Today, critical<br />

ways of reading are intended to construct readers who,<br />

for example, can identify texts as crafted objects, who<br />

are alert to the values and interests espoused by the<br />

text, who recognise their position as compliant or<br />

resistant readers. When readers perceive texts as<br />

motivated, rather than innocent, they position themselves<br />

within an alternative discourse of reading,<br />

participating in a critical literacy. Current Australian<br />

English syllabi require teachers to employ pedagogies<br />

that enable students to take up a position within such<br />

an alternative reading discourse.<br />

Educational issues in literature for primaryage<br />

students<br />

When children’s literature is presented in a classroom<br />

it gains authenticity and authority from its educational<br />

setting. Stories have the ability to ‘naturalise’ their<br />

ideological positions and they ‘subject’ readers to<br />

become their ‘ideal’ readers, that is, to produce<br />

readings that align with the views of the text. As<br />

Candlin states, ‘‘children’s fictional texts are engaged<br />

in a struggle for young people’s minds’’ (Candlin,<br />

1992, p. ix; see also Stephens, 1992).<br />

Furthermore, current reading approaches do not<br />

position teachers to challenge the ways of thinking<br />

and being (the discourses) that stories portray in<br />

classroom texts. The discourses stories present are<br />

perceived as unproblematically ‘neutral’ by these<br />

reading approaches, and by teachers. As discursive<br />

practices, however, all stories constitute, and are<br />

constituted by, ways of thinking which typically<br />

present mainstream views on gender, ethnicity and<br />

social groups. Recently, literary texts which challenge<br />

these mainstream views have been published, and rereadings<br />

of older texts problematise previous interpretations<br />

(for example, The True Story of the Three Little<br />

Pigs, Scieszka, J. (1989), Snow White in New York, French,<br />

F. (1986); see also Bradford, 1996).<br />

The role of the teacher in reading practices<br />

In any classroom, the teacher is the interpretative<br />

authority on the text for the students. The narrative is<br />

filtered through the teacher’s talk about the text, that is,<br />

the teacher mediates the text to the students. As Luke<br />

and Luke (1989, p. 252) note, ‘‘[t]acitly and intentionally,<br />

teachers will emphasize and de-emphasize, select<br />

and exclude’’. The text becomes remade through this<br />

‘‘running metatextual commentary’’ (Luke, de Castell<br />

and Luke, 1983, p. <strong>11</strong>8). Baker’s research on talk in<br />

reading lessons (1991a, 1991b, 1992; and Baker and<br />

Freebody, 1989a, 1989b) highlights how, in the metatextual<br />

commentary, students are ‘‘asked to look<br />

through the text into the story, and through talk into<br />

the world. The text and the talk remain transparent and<br />

unread’’ (Baker, 1991b, p. 176). Together, Baker argues,<br />

the text, and the teacher’s talk about the text,<br />

‘naturally’ construct a subject position within dominant<br />

ways of thinking for the student.<br />

The study<br />

The research discussed in this article was a case study<br />

of how one teacher sought to introduce her students to<br />

critical ways of reading that were distinct from the<br />

interpretative responsive readings employed by the<br />

class and herself in other lessons in the study. The<br />

reading programme took place with students aged ten<br />

to eleven <strong>year</strong>s, in a Year 5 classroom in Sydney,<br />

Australia. The text was a children’s novel which the<br />

teacher read aloud to the class on a daily basis over a<br />

period of a school term (ten weeks). Information about<br />

the study-class cohort is summarised in Table 1.<br />

As can be seen from Table 1, the class contained a<br />

balance of ESB and NESB students, and gender, and<br />

had a wide range of reading abilities. It was important<br />

for the effectiveness of the study that the students not<br />

be categorised as high ability. The teacher and I wanted<br />

to ensure that any critical ways of reading achieved in<br />

the classroom dialogue could be attributed more to the<br />

kinds of talk about literature promoted in the classroom<br />

interaction, rather than to general high reading<br />

ability or a well-established English-speaking background.<br />

The text selected for the study was I am Susannah<br />

(1987), an Australian novel by a multi-award winning<br />

Australian author, Libby Gleeson. The major characterisation<br />

in the novel presents three generations of<br />

women, the protagonist, 12-<strong>year</strong>-old Susie, her mother<br />

Martha, and an elderly neighbour, Jess, known as the<br />

Blue Lady. Each of these characters is ‘matched’ by<br />

another female character who represents more traditional<br />

ways of being for women.<br />

The students responded to the novel through discussion<br />

of various features, events and characters at a<br />

r UKLA 2003


Literacy April <strong>2004</strong> 19<br />

Table 1: Summary of information about study class cohort<br />

Number of students 30<br />

Chronological ages<br />

<strong>10</strong>.4 to <strong>11</strong>.6 <strong>year</strong>s<br />

<strong>Reading</strong> ages n<br />

7.3 to <strong>11</strong>.9 <strong>year</strong>s<br />

Gender balance<br />

17 girls, 13 boys<br />

Language background 46% English Speaking Background (ESB)<br />

54% Non-English Speaking Background (NESB)<br />

[Lebanese 5 Italian 1<br />

Chinese 3 Egyptian 1<br />

Armenian 2 Korean 1<br />

Sri Lankan 2 Portuguese 1]<br />

Total no. of students classified as<br />

learners of English as an<br />

additional language<br />

<strong>11</strong><br />

(Source: Class teacher)<br />

n<br />

<strong>Reading</strong> ages as per the Progressive Achievement Test (A) in <strong>Reading</strong> Comprehension (ACER, 1986)<br />

whole-class level. These lessons took place at different<br />

times before lunch (1pm) and ranged from between 40<br />

and 70 minutes in length. The reading of the novel was<br />

considered a part of the ‘shared reading’ aspect of the<br />

literacy programme and the teacher placed importance<br />

on developing a community of readers (Fish, 1979)<br />

who talk about a good book together (personal<br />

communication). Some students obtained a copy of<br />

the novel and followed the teacher’s reading.<br />

A non-critical pedagogy: students’ stories<br />

In the study the teacher wanted to develop classroom<br />

talk which could be seen to construct moves towards<br />

critical reading. To achieve this, she not only paid<br />

attention to grammatical, narrative and gender perspectives<br />

in the novel (‘critical talk’) but also encouraged<br />

students’ personal stories as responses to the<br />

novel, which I have called ‘noncritical’ talk. In each of<br />

these lessons this ‘story-telling’ positioned the students<br />

to empathise with the novel’s events and the<br />

characters’ actions and reactions in relation to those<br />

events. Table 2 below presents examples of the<br />

relationship between text stimuli and the students’<br />

stories. Lessons 1 and 7 will be discussed as exemplars<br />

of a non-critical pedagogy.<br />

As Table 2 shows, the students were encouraged to<br />

align their experiences with those attributed to the<br />

characters in the novel. This deliberate foregrounding<br />

of the students’ repertoire was particularly important<br />

in Lesson 1, when the teacher (T) drew on the students’<br />

experiences of friendship to introduce the novel, as can<br />

be seen in the excerpt below. In each excerpt that<br />

follows the numbers indicate the turns taken and their<br />

place in the lesson sequence. For example, 1 T indicates<br />

that this excerpt is part of the teacher’s opening<br />

monologue:<br />

1T<br />

Now what I want you to do is think about the<br />

friends you have had since you’ve first started being<br />

conscious of the importance of a friend in your life.<br />

Let’s do a little bit of thinking. Who are the friends<br />

who have been special to you . . . Now hands up<br />

those of you who have had or have a special friend<br />

that has been part of your life for a lot of that time,<br />

lot of those <strong>year</strong>s. Yeh, many of you, ok. Could we<br />

just talk about those friends for a moment. The<br />

long-term friends, people who’ve been part of your<br />

Table 2: Examples of the relationship between the study lessons, text stimuli and students’ stories<br />

Lesson Text stimulus Story topics<br />

Lesson 1 Susie’s best friend announces she is leaving Leaving friends, or being ‘left’ when<br />

friends leave: friendship stories<br />

Lesson 7 Susie uses her mother as an ‘excuse’ to her peer Times when students have made<br />

‘excuses’ to avoid doing something<br />

Lesson <strong>10</strong> Susie’s mother takes her shopping for party clothes Improvisations of scenes based on<br />

experiences of going shopping for<br />

clothes with mum<br />

Lesson 15 The activities of the Blue Lady as artist Grandparent stories, their activities and<br />

relationships with the students<br />

r UKLA 2003


20 Moving from reader response to critical reading<br />

life for quite some time, let’s just talk about them. I<br />

don’t want you to name names, but what are the<br />

qualities in those friends that you enjoy? What’s<br />

kept you friends over this period of time? Yes?<br />

(Lesson 1)<br />

96S<br />

<strong>10</strong>2S<br />

Her mind is really confused because if she does<br />

go, she might forget about Kim. If she doesn’t go<br />

she’ll lose more friends.<br />

If she’d stop lying, she wouldn’t be in all this<br />

trouble. (Lesson 7)<br />

In this monologue the teacher deliberately invited<br />

discussion from the students’ lived experiences. She<br />

asked them to think about ‘friendship’ in a particular<br />

way: friends were ‘important’, ‘special’, ‘long-term’<br />

and have ‘qualities . . . you enjoy’. For these students<br />

the concept of friendship was constructed as enduring,<br />

rather than ephemeral, and this was perfectly aligned<br />

with the opening paragraph of the novel to be read<br />

aloud further into the lesson.<br />

Students’ stories were elicited when the teacher asked<br />

about friends who ‘‘had to leave for some reason. Or<br />

you had to leave . . . ’’ (50 T, Lesson 1). For example:<br />

67S<br />

73S<br />

Before when I lived in Turkey, my best friend,<br />

she, her dad got transferred to Canada and my<br />

dad got transferred to Turkey and then my dad<br />

got transferred to here and we haven’t stopped<br />

writing and we still keep in touch<br />

When my friend moved, I haven’t seen her for a<br />

couple of <strong>year</strong>s and when I did we had nothing to<br />

talk about<br />

80T . . . Now everyone, the class novel we are<br />

starting today, is in fact a story of a great<br />

friendship and a friendship which actually starts<br />

at the beginning of the story with an announcement<br />

by one of the main characters that she is<br />

leaving, that she is going (Lesson 1)<br />

The public space of the classroom reconstrued the<br />

experiences of individual students, when shared, as<br />

community experiences. Here the teacher constructed<br />

a group experience which aligned with the experiences<br />

of the protagonist: she positioned her students to read<br />

from ‘within’ the text. What counted as reading here<br />

was perceiving characters as ‘humans’ whose ‘life’<br />

experiences reflected those of the readers. The students’<br />

stories contributed to the development of a<br />

reader response discourse.<br />

In Lesson 7, the teacher promoted the students’<br />

empathy for the protagonist Susie by asking for<br />

inferences about Susie’s ‘excuse’ that her mother may<br />

not let her attend the planned party, as can be seen in<br />

the following excerpt:<br />

85T<br />

88S<br />

90S<br />

92S<br />

94S<br />

. . . What is really at stake for Susie in all of this<br />

party stuff? What is really there for her?<br />

She could lose her self-confidence after if the boy<br />

said something like you are disgusting.<br />

Like if she has a good time and forgets about<br />

Kim.<br />

She could be humiliated at the party.<br />

If she goes and she doesn’t play the game, she<br />

will lose her friends.<br />

In this excerpt the students inferred a variety of<br />

reasons for Susie’s excuses to her friends. These<br />

reasons were constructed from the students’ cultural<br />

logic and made Susie’s words plausible. Evidence for<br />

this claim lies in the language of the students:<br />

inferences are apparent in the students’ consistent<br />

use of the conditional conjunction ‘if’ (88S, 90S, 94S,<br />

96S, <strong>10</strong>2S) and the modal language of probability<br />

‘could’ (88S, 92S) and ‘might’ (96S). Furthermore, the<br />

kind of information they gave concerned the character’s<br />

feelings and behaviours, and this is evident in<br />

the students’ use of such ‘mental’ and ‘behavioural’<br />

types of verb as ‘forget/s’ (90S, 96S), ‘humiliated’ (92S),<br />

‘confused’ (96S), ‘lying’ (<strong>10</strong>2S), and such metaphorical<br />

constructions as ‘lose her self-confidence’ (88S) and<br />

‘lose her friends/lose more friends’ (94S/96S). What<br />

counts as reading here is the ability to project possible<br />

feelings and behaviours onto a character and to make<br />

deductions from the character’s thoughts. In this part<br />

of Lesson 7, this kind of classroom talk could be seen as<br />

an instance of ‘reader response’ theory applied in<br />

classroom practice.<br />

The teacher’s commentary on each response (not<br />

included in the example above) indicated her agreement<br />

with both the content of the students’ replies and<br />

the strategy they used to arrive at their answers. Such<br />

comments as ‘‘I have not thought of that’’ (91 T), and<br />

her sharing ‘‘I have had a few [embarrassing experiences]<br />

that are unbelievable’’ (97 T) gave authority to<br />

the use of this strategy of projection into a fictional text.<br />

The students’ projection of real-world cultural/social<br />

knowledge of how friendships ‘work’ was continued<br />

in line <strong>10</strong>2S: ‘If she’d stop lying, she wouldn’t be in all<br />

this trouble’’, where a student challenged the empathetic<br />

stance of the group’s responses.<br />

When this student resisted the reading position<br />

constructed by the teacher, she took up a critical<br />

stance. The student’s comment offered the possibility<br />

of an analytical reading: the teacher could have<br />

examined the potentiality of different reader positions,<br />

for example, are readers meant to agree with Susie’s<br />

‘excuses’ and reticence, or disagree? Arguably, the<br />

teacher deliberately remained within the reader<br />

response discourse, ignoring the challenge and using<br />

the comment as a springboard for more personal<br />

stories, as can be seen in the excerpt following:<br />

<strong>10</strong>2S<br />

<strong>10</strong>3T<br />

If she’d stop lying, she wouldn’t be in all this<br />

trouble.<br />

Yeh, let’s, yeh good. Let’s talk about that. You are<br />

right spot on that is where I want to be. Have<br />

you ever made up an excuse before, to cover<br />

r UKLA 2003


Literacy April <strong>2004</strong> 21<br />

<strong>10</strong>4S<br />

128S<br />

130S<br />

yourself for something you either didn’t want to<br />

do or felt uncomfortable about or . . . you felt<br />

that you couldn’t tell the truth. You had to make<br />

up an excuse. . . . Anybody want to talk about<br />

when they did something like that?<br />

Well, one day I was at Corey’s house and I was<br />

sick and her dad got really angry and he was<br />

calling me sook for being sick and so a few weeks<br />

later, Corey asked me to stay the night and I said<br />

Oh sorry we’re going out.<br />

When Jim was here . . . I slept over at his place<br />

twice and the first time Kieran his friend lived<br />

like two roads across, he kept asking if he could<br />

come over in front of everyone, and we said that<br />

we were going out, and once he came over and we<br />

were there. And we had to say we were just<br />

leaving.<br />

One time I went out to my auntie’s and she said<br />

something bad about my mother and then I went<br />

home. A couple of weeks later she asked me to go<br />

up there again and I said no I’m going away.<br />

(Lesson 7)<br />

In this excerpt the teacher did not take up the<br />

possibility of an analytical reading. Instead the<br />

relationship of the character’s life to human experiences<br />

was foregrounded as the students were encouraged<br />

to position themselves in similar ways to Susie,<br />

this time through their personal stories. Here the<br />

role of the students’ stories moved beyond establishing<br />

repertoire for the events of the novel: the stories<br />

themselves became integral to the making of<br />

inferences, the reasoning about the character’s motivations.<br />

A critical pedagogy: orienting students<br />

towards analytical talk<br />

One way ‘critical’ talk was introduced was through<br />

particular attention to specific gender perspectives<br />

presented in the novel. The characterisation of the<br />

novel’s three female generations permitted class<br />

discussion about alternative possibilities available to<br />

women of different ages. In these lessons the characters<br />

were ‘appraised’ in the light of how they lived their<br />

lives in the novel. Segments from two lessons, Lessons<br />

<strong>11</strong> and 15, will be discussed to demonstrate this focus.<br />

Appraising characterisation from a<br />

‘difference’ perspective<br />

The teacher encouraged appraisal by framing the<br />

classroom talk with a question which asked the<br />

students to consider ‘‘what makes the women in this<br />

story different . . . from typical female characters . . .<br />

that you have encountered’’ (Lesson <strong>11</strong>). The teacher’s<br />

question offered a subject position of critic: the<br />

students may situate themselves as analysts of<br />

characterisation, from a perspective which recognises<br />

that characters are ‘constructed’ by authors, rather<br />

than as responders to characterisation, from a perspective<br />

which perceives characters’ activities and<br />

qualities as representations of life.<br />

The students’ responses indicated their attempts to<br />

take up the position of analysts who can make<br />

generalisations about ‘typical’ female characterisation.<br />

They did this in several ways, as can be seen in the brief<br />

examples following, taken from different points in the<br />

talk:<br />

85S<br />

126S<br />

143S<br />

147S<br />

Sometimes – like she [Susie] hates people, other<br />

characters like people<br />

Usually the main character in the book – they are<br />

not as quiet – more open<br />

It is a writing technique<br />

She gets away – some other books are not very<br />

detailed. The girls normally just take one second<br />

in the shop but in this book it’s like a big thing,<br />

going to the shops (Lesson <strong>11</strong>)<br />

The teacher’s question had reframed the alreadyestablished<br />

qualities of some of the novel’s characters<br />

as atypical qualities of fictional female characters.<br />

Some student responses constructed a ‘typical’ characterisation<br />

as simply the opposite of the character’s<br />

known qualities (for example, 85S, while others drew<br />

on the verisimilitude of realistic fiction as in 126S). Two<br />

other students, however, perceived a deliberate construction<br />

of the ‘difference’ perspective: one student<br />

named it ‘a writing technique’ (143S) and a second<br />

student elaborated on this with a recognition of how<br />

the novel privileges female preoccupations. In the<br />

comment ‘‘in this book, it’s like a big thing, going to the<br />

shops’’ (147S) the student noted the narrative space<br />

and detail given to ‘going shopping’ and observed how<br />

‘other’ books do not chronicle this kind of event. These<br />

two students’ comments appear to recognise how<br />

‘different’ characterisation of females must be deliberately<br />

constructed as an alternative to ‘typical’ female<br />

mainstream characterisation, that is, ‘different’ (gendered)<br />

characters are constructed through the ‘different’<br />

(gendered) events in which they participate.<br />

Contrasting gendered characterisation<br />

To differentiate between the ‘ways of being’ represented<br />

by the two elderly women in the novel, the<br />

mysterious ‘Blue Lady’ and Mrs Watson, the teacher<br />

used contrasting language ‘balance-counterbalanceopposite-contrast’<br />

(1 T). A number of perspectives on<br />

elderly women were identified by the students in the<br />

classroom talk, as the excerpts below indicate.<br />

1T<br />

Which woman in the story is an interesting<br />

balance, counterbalance maybe would even be a<br />

better word, to describe the Blue Lady? Who<br />

would you name? . . . Who is the woman in the<br />

r UKLA 2003


22 Moving from reader response to critical reading<br />

2S<br />

4T<br />

5S<br />

6S<br />

7S<br />

9S<br />

17S<br />

18T<br />

19S<br />

20T<br />

26T<br />

27S<br />

31S<br />

39S<br />

45S<br />

story who we would describe as being quite<br />

opposite to the Blue Lady, a contrast to her . . .<br />

Mrs Watson<br />

. . . What do we know about Mrs Watson so<br />

far? . . . How would you describe Mrs Watson<br />

to me?<br />

She knows quite a lot about the street, she knows<br />

quite a lot about everyone<br />

Nosey<br />

Stickybeak<br />

Gossip lady, hot gossip lady. There’s two people<br />

in our street like that. . . .<br />

She’s got to look after her husband and son.<br />

Excellent, well done Nadine . . . what is really<br />

important to Mrs. Watson is that she has a<br />

husband, and a son, who require her to look after<br />

them . . .<br />

Make dinner<br />

Yes, she needed to go and do dinner . . . She’s<br />

got to go and make dinner and serve it up to<br />

them, look after them, this is what is important<br />

to her. Her husband and her son are her priority<br />

....<br />

What are other contrasts?<br />

She doesn’t have enough time, like the Blue<br />

Lady, to like do what she wants and stuff<br />

A family woman<br />

Mrs Watson probably cares about how she<br />

dresses while the Blue Lady doesn’t care<br />

Libby Gleeson has done this purposely<br />

(Lesson 15)<br />

The students’ cultural logic constructed a set of<br />

characteristics that coheres in the context of the talk.<br />

On the one hand, elderly women look after their<br />

husbands and children (17S), ‘make dinner’ (19S), be a<br />

‘family woman’ (31S), do not have time of their own<br />

(27S), and care about their appearance (39S). Alternatively,<br />

elderly women have time to do what they<br />

want to (27S) and be unconcerned about how they<br />

dress (39S). The teacher listed Mrs Watson’s and the<br />

Blue Lady’s attributes and behaviours on charts as the<br />

students offered them: effectively she was recording a<br />

set of elements that contribute to mainstream and<br />

alternative discourses around elderly women.<br />

To this point in the lesson the teacher treated these<br />

elements as individual and discrete. Visually, these<br />

charts were placed alongside each other. Then one of<br />

the male students proposed that these contrasts had<br />

been deliberately constructed, ‘‘Libby Gleeson has<br />

done this purposely’’ (45S). It appears that the simple<br />

naming of these contrasts constructed a context which<br />

made this proposition, foregrounded in earlier classroom<br />

talk, possible.<br />

This statement shifted the basis for the classroom talk.<br />

The student’s assertion noted explicitly the constructed<br />

quality of the characterisation: there is an<br />

analytical awareness of the text as object. The observation<br />

(45S) also indicated that this student at least was<br />

able to position himself reflectively: while fellow<br />

students responded to the characters’ attributes and<br />

behaviours as presented ‘within’ the novel, this<br />

student was able to draw on knowledge from ‘outside’<br />

the story. Furthermore, having heard this observation,<br />

the rest of the class was able to consider its import. In<br />

her monologue which followed, the teacher reinforced<br />

the student’s thinking and elaborated on a number of<br />

points for the class. To facilitate the following discussion<br />

excerpt is presented in three sections 46 T i, ii, iii:<br />

45S<br />

46T<br />

i<br />

ii<br />

iii<br />

Libby Gleeson has done this purposely<br />

. . . There is no doubt that Libby Gleeson has<br />

done this purposely. We are beginning to realise<br />

what an incredible master she is with the<br />

construction of this story. She is setting up<br />

these two women as opposites, as a counterbalance<br />

for each other.<br />

. . . We’ve got a very traditional sort of woman<br />

here in Mrs Watson, very traditional. The<br />

family woman dedicated to the service of her<br />

husband and child when her whole life revolves<br />

around making sure the cleaning and the<br />

washing and the cooking is done.<br />

. . . But Mrs Watson represents for us a very<br />

traditional sort of older woman in the story.<br />

What about the Blue Lady. Let’s come back to her<br />

in this conversation called ‘‘What makes the<br />

Blue Lady in this story different from the typical<br />

female characters we encounter’’? (Lesson 15)<br />

The teacher asserted a number of propositions in this<br />

talk. First (in 46Ti), she strongly reinforced the<br />

contention ‘‘Libby Gleeson has done this purposely’’<br />

(45S) with such phrases as ‘‘there is no doubt’’, ‘‘an<br />

incredible master’’. These statements did emphasise<br />

the continuing focus on the constructedness of text.<br />

They did not, however, draw attention to the implication<br />

that the class-as-readers were being positioned by<br />

these oppositions.<br />

Second, the teacher identified (in 46T ii) the activities<br />

which, she asserted, situate Mrs Watson within the<br />

subject position ‘traditional’. The teacher would have<br />

been aware of the students’ familiarity with the<br />

activities and attributes that construct Mrs Watson’s<br />

role. These activities and attributes had been presented<br />

by the students as individual traits; now they were<br />

reinterpreted by the teacher as forming a cohesive<br />

pattern, a ‘traditional’ role. Thus a version of a traditional<br />

subject position for women was articulated for<br />

the students in the teacher’s metatextual commentary.<br />

Third, the notion of ‘difference’ was now defined as<br />

‘not traditional’ and in the ensuing discussion the Blue<br />

Lady was characterised as taking up a ‘different’ (nontraditional/feminist)<br />

discourse. As her activities were<br />

surveyed in this light, the teacher developed the<br />

students’ responses to articulate how ‘different’ ways<br />

r UKLA 2003


Literacy April <strong>2004</strong> 23<br />

of being for women might be realised. As the next part<br />

of Lesson 15 proceeded, however, the students<br />

struggled to come to terms with their own views of<br />

what alternatives ‘old ladies’ may take. This discussion<br />

is analysed next.<br />

Presenting an alternative (feminist)<br />

discourse<br />

In the final section of Lesson 15, the teacher drew<br />

attention to the ‘difference’ that the Blue Lady is, in<br />

contrast to the ‘traditional’ Mrs Watson. One student’s<br />

response, ‘‘She’s got no time for anything else, but for<br />

her art’’ (47S), stated a direct contrast to how Mrs<br />

Watson’s time is spent. This response was used by the<br />

teacher to initiate a lengthy discussion on the possibilities<br />

of a non-traditional and alternative lifestyle for<br />

women. The excerpts below record the essence of the<br />

discussion:<br />

46T . . . What about the Blue Lady, let’s come back<br />

to her in this conversation called ‘What makes<br />

the Blue Lady in this story different from the<br />

typical female characters we encounter?’ Sam?<br />

47S She’s got no time for anything else, but for her<br />

art.<br />

50T So her art occupies her whole life. Her art is her<br />

priority.<br />

...<br />

55S A hobby?<br />

56T Yeh but isn’t a definition of a hobby something<br />

that you do as a pleasure activity outside of<br />

work?<br />

57S Yeh, but she doesn’t have any work to do.<br />

...<br />

59S Well, dyeing her wool is the work she does, and<br />

the drawing is the hobby.<br />

60T Ok, let’s just talk about this aspect of ‘work’ at<br />

the moment. What are you going to say Jerry?<br />

61S What is dyeing if it’s not her work?<br />

62T . . . What else do you have to say about this?<br />

Nadine said ‘‘Well, it’s like her hobby cause she<br />

really hasn’t got a job’’. And yet, we’ve said that<br />

this occupies a huge percentage of her life. Jerry<br />

has said ‘‘Well if it is not her work, what is it?’’<br />

Hobbies and leisure pursuits are those things<br />

that we do in addition to work. They are little<br />

sidelines that give us pleasure. How would you<br />

describe what the Blue Lady does?<br />

63S It’s her work. (Lesson 15)<br />

In this classroom talk the teacher presented cultural<br />

and feminist positions. She attempted to establish the<br />

concepts that art is ‘work’, and that ‘art-as-work’ was<br />

an alternative to the domesticity of Mrs Watson. One<br />

interpretation of the teacher’s talk across 56T-62T is<br />

that she wanted the students to consider the Blue<br />

Lady’s occupations as serious, rather than trivial or<br />

marginal. This is evident in her comment ‘‘occupies a<br />

huge percentage of her life’’ (62T). The marginalised<br />

position of ‘art’, in the students’ view, is apparent in the<br />

definition of art as ‘a hobby’ (55S) and the comment<br />

‘‘but she doesn’t have any work to do’’ (57S) with the<br />

adversative ‘but’, used by both teacher and students to<br />

indicate the debate.<br />

The concept of art-as-work appears particularly to<br />

have challenged the students’ knowledge of ‘work’ as a<br />

money-earning occupation and the students’ comments<br />

now attempted to reconcile their understanding<br />

of work with the Blue Lady’s activities. This can be<br />

seen in the excerpt following:<br />

67S Probably, the art is like a job, she wants to be in<br />

the art gallery or like that?<br />

69S She might be getting an award cause then she<br />

can sell it and then she will have money.<br />

73S She’s talented in what she does. (Lesson 15)<br />

The tentativeness of the students’ acceptance of the<br />

teacher’s suggestion is evident in their use of modality<br />

‘probably’ (67S) and ‘might’ (69S) as they tried to<br />

explain to themselves, in practical ways, how art may<br />

equal work. This tentativeness was articulated as a<br />

frame clash for one student (indicated by a bold S in<br />

the following excerpt), who openly contested the<br />

‘truth’ of this premise. This resistance to a compliant<br />

reading of the alternative way of being put forward by<br />

the teacher, offered the other students the possibility of<br />

re-examining their experience of elderly women:<br />

79S<br />

80T<br />

81S<br />

94S<br />

98S<br />

<strong>11</strong>7S<br />

135S<br />

136SS<br />

138S<br />

140S<br />

I disagree with everyone – she doesn’t have any<br />

major priorities, but I just think it is something<br />

that she does just to fill up her time.<br />

Why would you say that?<br />

How do you know if she really enjoys it, how do<br />

you know that she doesn’t do it just cause she is<br />

bored?. . . .<br />

I don’t know . . . usually old ladies are sort of<br />

in the middle – some are secretive and some talk<br />

– usually most of them are in between, like they<br />

really talk and sometimes they are quiet cause<br />

my grandma sits for two hours and goes to sleep<br />

– but she also draws. . . .<br />

I don’t know if this is right – the Blue Lady is<br />

sort of like a younger person – she likes to draw<br />

and everything. My grandma is 90 and she is<br />

like Mrs. Watson, I don’t really know. . . .<br />

My grandma is exactly the same as the Blue<br />

Lady. She is 90 <strong>year</strong>s old, her husband’s dead,<br />

she’s an artist and she really likes children.<br />

...<br />

Again I disagree with everyone. Old individuals,<br />

they usually get shipped off to the old<br />

folk’s home.<br />

Objection! Objection! [general loud reaction]<br />

My grandmother was living in a flat by herself<br />

and she was crippled.<br />

Old people don’t live with anyone because<br />

sometimes they’re a bit bitter<br />

r UKLA 2003


24 Moving from reader response to critical reading<br />

141T<br />

Sonya, I want to ask – do you have grandparents<br />

who are like that? Is that your experience?<br />

[S nods assent].Yeh. They are actually,<br />

they are not all like that, it is unfortunate that<br />

you have had that experience. (Lesson 15)<br />

In this talk the students reflected on how their own<br />

experience of the elderly aligns itself with what the<br />

novel offered. The students’ talk blurred lived experience<br />

and textual experience and implied a recognition<br />

that multiple positions were available for elderly<br />

women. The students were able to consider the ways<br />

of being taken up by their own female relatives and to<br />

recognise the shifting roles that this may entail. Thus<br />

Sonya’s resistance revealed the dynamic quality of<br />

knowledge in constructing the potential for alternative<br />

subject positions. Here, in effect, the student moved<br />

towards a critical reading, which questioned the reader<br />

and subject positions offered in the teacher’s metatextual<br />

talk. What is apparent in these exchanges is that by<br />

making an alternative discourse available for debate<br />

the teacher positioned the students to examine their<br />

experiences in the light of that alternative.<br />

Conclusion<br />

This article has presented an analysis of aspects of four<br />

different lessons that utilised features of narrative and<br />

feminist qualities of the study text to move students<br />

towards critical reading. The lesson analysis elaborated<br />

on how an analytical/critical reading contrasted<br />

with a response reading developed through students’<br />

stories. <strong>Reading</strong> positions alternative to those established<br />

in non-critical talk emerged as the students<br />

began to observe the construction of characterisation<br />

and aspects of different gender discourses.<br />

The power of the novel to ‘pull’ a reader into alignment<br />

with its characters and ideology is important to note.<br />

Deliberately developing this alignment also appears to<br />

be essential for students’ motivation and interest. What<br />

is also apparent from the transcripts is the contribution<br />

that deliberation on points-of-view, the conflation of<br />

personal understandings with narrative analysis, and<br />

involvement in ‘debates’ makes to readers’ enjoyment<br />

and enthusiasm. The potential to utilise a response<br />

reading position in order to develop a critical reading<br />

position with literary texts is implied.<br />

The selection of the novel is crucial to supporting<br />

moves towards critical reading. The features of the<br />

novel’s construction offered the teacher a resource to<br />

introduce her readers to the possibility of alternative<br />

ways of being. The students’ interpretative responses<br />

to a gender discourse were deliberately positioned<br />

within a focus question ‘frame’, which both structured<br />

a comparison of characteristics and constructed a<br />

move towards a recognition of a particular gendered<br />

position. Thus the focus question could be seen to mark<br />

a point on a response-critical continuum, where it<br />

invited responses to character analysis and also highlighted<br />

alternative ways of being for females.<br />

Lastly, it is interesting to observe that the authorised<br />

classroom talk promoted a reading position which<br />

complied with the novel’s ideology. Nevertheless,<br />

debates emerged when one student engaged in a<br />

critique of the discourse position presented in the<br />

novel and in the metatextual talk. Thus the literary text<br />

offered the possibility of an inspection of certain ways<br />

of being and thinking, where lived experience could be<br />

examined and tested in the light of vicarious fictional<br />

experience. Furthermore, perhaps for the participants,<br />

and certainly for such analysis as this, the student<br />

challenge revealed the process by which critical reading<br />

may be attained.<br />

References<br />

AUSTRALIAN COUNCIL OF EDUCATIONAL RESEARCH (1986)<br />

Progressive Achievement Test in <strong>Reading</strong>. Hawthorne: ACER.<br />

BAKER, C. (1991a) <strong>Reading</strong> the texts of reading lessons. Australian<br />

Journal of <strong>Reading</strong>, 14.1, pp. 5–20.<br />

BAKER, C. (1991b) ‘Literacy Practices and Social Relations in<br />

Classroom <strong>Reading</strong> Events’ in Baker, C. and Luke, A. (eds) Towards<br />

a <strong>Critical</strong> Sociology of <strong>Reading</strong> Pedagogy. Amsterdam/Philadelphia:<br />

John Benjamins.<br />

BAKER, C. (1992) Description and analysis in classroom talk and<br />

interaction. Journal of Classroom Interaction, 27.2, pp. 9–14.<br />

BAKER, C. (1997) ‘Literacy Practices and Social Order’ in Muspratt,<br />

S., Luke, A. and Freebody, P. (eds) Constructing <strong>Critical</strong> Literacies.<br />

Sydney: Allen & Unwin pp. 243–272.<br />

BAKER, C. and FREEBODY, P. (1989a) ‘Talk Around Text: Constructions<br />

of Textual and Teacher Authority in Classroom Discourse’ in<br />

de Castell, S., Luke, A. and Luke, C. (eds) Language, Authority and<br />

Criticism: <strong>Reading</strong>s on the School Textbook. London: The Falmer<br />

Press, pp. 263–283.<br />

BAKER, C. and FREEBODY, P. (1989b) Children’s First School Books.<br />

Oxford: Basil Blackwell.<br />

BAYNHAM, M. (1995) Literacy Practices Investigating Literacy in Social<br />

Contexts. London: Longman.<br />

BRADFORD, C. (ed.) (1996) Writing the Australian Child. Nedlands:<br />

University of Western Australia Press in association with Deakin<br />

University: Centre for Research in Cultural Communication.<br />

CANDLIN, C. (1992) ‘General Editor’s Preface’ in Stephens, J. (ed.)<br />

Language and Ideology in Children’s Fiction. London and New York:<br />

Longman, pp. vii–ix.<br />

FISH, S. (1979) Interpreting the ‘Variorum’. <strong>Critical</strong> Inquiry, 2, pp. 478–<br />

485.<br />

FREEBODY, P. (1991) ‘Inventing Cultural-capitalist Distinctions in<br />

the Assessment of HSC Papers: Coping with Inflation in an Era of<br />

‘‘Literacy Crisis’’’ in Christie, F. (ed.) Literacy in Social Processes.<br />

Papers from the Inaugural Australian Systemic Functional<br />

Linguistics Conference, Deakin University, January 1990. Darwin:<br />

Centre for Studies of Language in Education, Northern Territory<br />

University, pp. 96–<strong>10</strong>8.<br />

FRENCH, F. (1986) Snow White in New York. Oxford: Oxford<br />

University Press.<br />

GEE, J. (1996) Social Linguistics and Literacies: Ideology in Discourses,<br />

(2nd edn). London: The Falmer Press.<br />

GLEESON, L. (1987) I am Susannah. North Ryde: Angus & Robertson.<br />

ISER, W. (1978) The Act of <strong>Reading</strong>: A Theory of Aesthetic Response.<br />

Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press.<br />

KEMPE, A. (1993) No single meaning: empowering students to<br />

construct socially critical readings of the text. Australian Journal of<br />

Language and Literacy, 16.4, pp. 307–322.<br />

LUKE, A. and FREEBODY, P. (1997) ‘Shaping the Social Practices of<br />

<strong>Reading</strong>’ in Muspratt, S., Luke, A. and Freebody, P. (eds)<br />

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Literacy April <strong>2004</strong> 25<br />

Constructing <strong>Critical</strong> Literacies Teaching and Learning Textual Practice.<br />

Sydney: Allen & Unwin, pp. 185–225.<br />

LUKE, A., DE CASTELL, S. and LUKE, C. (1983) Beyond criticism:<br />

the authority of the school text. Curriculum Inquiry, 13, pp. <strong>11</strong>1–127.<br />

LUKE, C. and LUKE, A. (1989) ‘Beyond Criticism: the Authority of<br />

the School Textbook’ in de Castell, S., Luke, A. and Luke, C. (eds)<br />

Language, Authority and Criticism <strong>Reading</strong>s on the School Textbook.<br />

London: The Falmer Press, pp. 245–260.<br />

SCIESZKA, J. (1989) The True Story of the Three Little Pigs. New York:<br />

Viking.<br />

STEPHENS, J. (1992) Language and Ideology in Children’s Fiction.<br />

London and New York: Longman.<br />

WINSER, B. (1993) ‘‘‘Fun with Dick and Jane’’: a Systemic-functional<br />

Approach to <strong>Reading</strong>, in Cope, B. and Kalantzis, M. (eds) Genre<br />

Approaches to Literacy: Theories and Practices. Papers from the 1991<br />

LERN Conference, University of Technology, Sydney: Common<br />

Ground, pp. <strong>10</strong>9–130.<br />

CONTACT THE AUTHOR:<br />

Lorraine <strong>McDonald</strong>, School of Education, ACU<br />

National, Locked Bag 2002, Strathfield, NSW<br />

2135 AUSTRALIA.<br />

e-mail: L.mcdonald@mary.acu.edu.au<br />

r UKLA 2003

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