Thomas Foster

My main suggestion, though, is to read things you like. You're not stuck with my list. Go to your bookstore or library and find novels, poems, plays, stories that engage your imagination and your intelligence. Read "Great Literature," by all means, but read good writing. Much of what I like best in my reading I've found by accident as I poked around bookshelves. And don't wait for writers to be dead to be read; the living ones can use the money. Your reading should be fun. We only call them literary works. Really, though, it's all a form of play. So play, Dear Reader, play.
And fare thee well. (This passage is from Foster's Envoi from "How to Read Literature like a Professor.)

I thought Foster did a superb job on this book, though, I was very happy when I read those last four words, "And fare thee well." Throughout his book, Foster, the extremely talented writer and reader, used many examples, from elegiac poems and plays, to world renown novels and stories. He taught me a multitude of techniques. He consistently pointed out that nothing is as it seems, in writing. And I, a young intelligent student, have learned significantly about symbolism and the science of writing. Also, he has inspired me to read more, if that's possible, and to explore writers I had not even heard of before. In conclusion, I believe Foster's book, "How to Read Literature like a Professor" has been very educational, even if some of his explanations are carrying various amounts of in-verisimilitude and irony.

Thomas Foster

We love the plays, the great characters, the fabulous speeches, the witty repartee even in times of duress. I hope never to be mortally stabbed, but if I am, I'd sure like to have the self-possession, when asked if it's bad, to answer, "No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor as wide as a church door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve," as Mercutio does in Romeo and Juliet. I mean, to be dying and clever at the same time, how can you not love that? Rather than saying it proves you're well read, I think what happens is that writers quote what they've read or heard, and more of them have Shakespeare stuck in their heads than anything else. Except Bugs Bunny, of course. (This passage is from chapter 6 of How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas C. Foster.)

I don't know what else to say except that Foster sure knows how to say what he says. He has a great sense of humor - hilarious - and has so many wonderful examples, similes, and explanations, that makes his book interesting enough. It is both educational as well as funny. What more could you ask for? Besides, Everyone would rather learn from someone who makes jokes ever so often, and yet obviously knows what he is talking about, rather than someone who puts them to sleep. Even though there are parts of Foster's book that aren't so funny or enjoyable, the parts that are make up for it. I love it.

The Chosen

Then he looked back at me, and his voice was gentle as he spoke. "Reuven, I--I ask you to forgive me... my anger... at your father's Zionism. I read his speech... I--I found my own meaning for my... brother's death... for the death of the six million. I found it in God's will... which I did not presume to understand. I did not--I did not find it in a Jewish state that does not follow God and His Torah. My brother... the others... they could not--they could not have died for such a state. Forgive me... your father... it was too much... too much--"
His voice broke. He held himself tightly. His beard moved faintly with the trembling of his lips.
"Daniel," he said brokenly. "Forgive me... for everything... I have done. A--a wiser father... may have done differently. I am not... wise."
He rose slowly, painfully, to his feet. "Today is the--the Festival of Freedom." There was a soft hint of bitterness in his voice. "Today my Daniel is free..."
(This passage was taken from Chapter 18 of Chaim Potok's The Chosen.)

This passage almost made me cry -- for joy. For Danny's whole life, his father had not talked to him -- except to teach a lesson on the Talmud or to explode -- to teach him a lesson on pain and compassion. I cannot imagine that. It would be so awful -- torturous. Then, after years of silence, for his father to come to him -- just before he leaves for college -- and apologize for all those years of harsh raising, it would be like the breaking of a dam. Both father and son cried for joy for the new found freedom and from the pain from those years of separation. Incredible. Unimaginable. I am so glad I did not have to go through anything like that.