Can good English only be British?

I have been saddened by the announcements that American classics such as

‘To Kill A Mockingbird’, ‘Of Mice and Men’ and ‘The Crucible’ are to be removed from the GCSE English syllabus.

While Michael Gove may not personally have liked these texts, countless generations of pupils have learned so much more than ‘American English’ from these fine examples of social commentary and literary craftsmanship.

So many, myself included, claim ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ as our all-time favourite novel. Of immediate relevance to emerging teens it has even more resonance for parents, especially single parents and victims of social injustice. But this is far more than a moral guidebook, important as that aspect is. This is a beautifully written, carefully plotted novel that justifies reading, rereading, teaching, learning and re-reading; with ever-growing appreciation for its wry humour and observational sure touch. A classic which is of its time but which transcends both time and place. What a shame to deprive British school children of the opportunity to appreciate this fine text.

The second named ‘banned text’, ‘Of Mice and Men’, is an extraordinary novella that has much to inspire the student of literature. This short story is beautifully crafted: framed with beautiful poetic descriptions that are not only symbolic but which demonstrate some of the finest, most original depictions of both nature and man I have taught. The novel is as much play script as it is prose; with depictions of room sets, gradual progression through the space of four days, artistic manipulation of light and sound effects and how they and the characters impact on each other.  Add to this a keen ear for dialogue and dialect, subtly shifting the readers’ interaction with the characters and yet again, an intense piece of social realism that while firmly placed in the American Depression is a universal exploration of the exploitation of workers, camaraderie, friendship and mis-placed hope.

‘The Crucible’ is, arguably, the most uncomfortable text of this blacklisted trilogy. Yet again, the inevitable rising of religious hysteria, fuelled by corruption amongst the powerful, is surely worthy of study in our times. The characterisation is powerfully depicted and the symbolism, parallels and contrasts that subtly set both scene and character against each other, repays close attention. The nuances of speech and rhetoric enliven the characterisation. This too is worthy of its classic status as a text to be studied as a fine example of historic re-enactment and compelling stagecraft.

While none of these texts are ‘British’ in origin, all three are written in the most compelling English. What a pity if we should determine texts by birthplace rather than merit. How would we feel if American schools removed the works of Shakespeare from their literary cannon? Should we dismiss

TS Eliot because he was born in America? By all means let us celebrate our best writers and be proud of our literary heritage, but let us not limit student’s horizons to the edges of our little island. The study of excellent literature should broaden and challenge both culturally and intellectually.