ABSTRACT
The study of literature appears, superficially, to be in a healthy condition: the great seams of ore – Shakespeare, Milton Park, Wordsworth et al. – appear to be well nigh inexhaustible and the bibliographies of scholarly studies grow apace. The limits of legitimate fields of study are slowly extended: James Joyce, for example, who was distinctly peripheral twenty years ago, is now providing work for many graduate students. Literature is clearly here to stay, and so is the institutionalised study of literature. The issue lies elsewhere, in the morale and sense of purpose of the student. And if the undergraduate student experiences qualms and misgivings, the student-teacher senses them much more acutely and urgently. Perceiving such a dichotomy, or, more likely, perceiving the legacy of such a dichotomy – the strangely biddable, conscientious, comatose condition of aspiring sixth formers – the student-teacher has to make a decision.
