W.H. Auden’s 1941 Syllabus Asked Students to Read 32 Great Literary Works, Totaling 6,000 Pages

Whether willed, invol­un­tary, or a mix of both, the declin­ing lit­er­a­cy of col­lege stu­dents is by now so often lament­ed that reports of it should no longer come as a sur­prise. And yet, on some lev­el, they still do: Eng­lish majors in region­al Kansas uni­ver­si­ties find the open­ing to Bleak House vir­tu­al­ly unin­tel­li­gi­ble; even stu­dents at “high­ly selec­tive, elite col­leges” strug­gle to read, let alone com­pre­hend, books in their entire­ty. Things were dif­fer­ent in 1941, and very dif­fer­ent indeed if you hap­pened to be tak­ing Eng­lish 135 at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan, a class titled “Fate and the Indi­vid­ual in Euro­pean Lit­er­a­ture.” The instruc­tor: a cer­tain W. H. Auden.

In his capac­i­ty as an edu­ca­tor, the poet threw down the gaunt­let of an “infa­mous­ly dif­fi­cult” syl­labus, as lit­er­ary aca­d­e­m­ic and YouTu­ber Adam Walk­er explains in his new video above, that “asked under­grad­u­ates to read about 6,000 pages of clas­sic lit­er­a­ture.”

Not that the course was out of touch with cur­rent events: in its his­tor­i­cal moment, “Nazi Ger­many had invad­ed the Sovi­et Union and expand­ed into East­ern Europe. Sys­tem­at­ic exter­mi­na­tion begins with mass shoot­ings, and the machin­ery of geno­cide is accel­er­at­ing. It’s no acci­dent that Auden takes an inter­est in fate and the indi­vid­ual in Euro­pean lit­er­a­ture” — a theme that, as he frames it, begins with Dante. After the entire­ty of The Divine Com­e­dy, Auden’s stu­dents had their free choice between Aeschy­lus’ Agamem­non or Sopho­cles’ Antigone.


From there, the required read­ing plunged into Horace’s Odes and Augustine’s Con­fes­sions, four Shake­speare plays, Pas­cal’s Pen­sées, Goethe’s Faust (but only Part I), and Dos­to­evsky’s The Broth­ers Kara­ma­zov, to name just a few texts. Not every­one would con­sid­er Dos­to­evsky Euro­pean, of course, but then, nobody would con­sid­er Her­man Melville Euro­pean, which for Auden was hard­ly a rea­son to leave Moby-Dick off the syl­labus. Walk­er describes that nov­el as rel­e­vant to the course’s themes of “obses­sion and cos­mic strug­gle,” evi­dent in all these works and their treat­ments of “pas­sion and his­tor­i­cal forces, and how indi­vid­u­als nav­i­gate those forces”: ideas that tran­scend nation­al and cul­tur­al bound­aries by def­i­n­i­tion. Whether they would come across to the kind of twen­ty-first-cen­tu­ry stu­dents who’d balk at being assigned even a full-length Auden poem is anoth­er ques­tion entire­ly.

View the syl­labus in a larg­er for­mat here.

Relat­ed con­tent:

W. H. Auden Recites His 1937 Poem “As I Walked Out One Evening”

Dis­cov­er Han­nah Arendt’s Syl­labus for Her 1974 Course on “Think­ing”

David Fos­ter Wallace’s 1994 Syl­labus: How to Teach Seri­ous Lit­er­a­ture with Light­weight Books

Don­ald Barthelme’s Syl­labus High­lights 81 Books Essen­tial for a Lit­er­ary Edu­ca­tion

Carl Sagan’s Syl­labus & Final Exam for His Course on Crit­i­cal Think­ing (Cor­nell, 1986)

Mar­shall McLuhan, W.H. Auden & Buck­min­ster Fuller Debate the Virtues of Mod­ern Tech­nol­o­gy & Media (1971)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.


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Comments (3)
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  • PeterD says:

    For lit­er­a­ture class in high school, we were required to read and report on 1200 pages each six week maek­ing peri­od. That is a pace for over 10,000 pages per year. And this was a rur­al, pub­lic high school!

    So we were always encour­aged to read. We were just ten miles from Ann Arbor and the Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan.

    Peo­ple read less today due to tele­vi­sion and the inter­net, with myr­i­ads of enter­tain­ment alter­na­tives.

    Signe, Old Farm Boy

  • Ira Bloomgarden says:

    Read the Syl­labus care­ful­ly. This is an upper divi­sion course offered at the finest aca­d­e­m­ic insti­tu­tion in Amer­i­ca. The Ivies then were essen­tial­ly “fin­ish­ing schools” for the Wasp Elite, with a veneer of excel­lence usu­al­ly sup­plied by Jews admit­ted on a Quo­ta. Catholics were gen­er­al­ly dis­cour­aged from apply­ing to Sec­u­lar schools, unless they were from the arriv­iste Rich.
    So, a “Great Books” course aimed at the best and bright­est near­ly 100 years ago. Not so spe­cial, though fine. Medieval is neglect­ed, though Auden had at least some acquain­tance with the great ver­nac­u­lar tra­di­tions of North­ern Lit­er­a­ture. We’ve moved on; there are two gen­ders, and sev­er­al sex­u­al iden­ti­ties. I’m hap­py that Human­i­ties today is more true to its appel­la­tion: The Study of the Human Expe­ri­ence.
    I had lunch with Auden once. He gave a lec­ture at John Jay about the Cen­tral­i­ty of Crim­i­nal Jus­tice. A nice lec­ture, packed with assort­ed Big­wigs who clear­ly had no com­pre­hen­sion of what his points were.
    Any, we don’t read any­more. Or if we do, it’s short online screeds. Change hap­pens. I know more about what’s going on through 20 min­utes on line than I did from an hour with The NY Times 50 years ago.
    Cool videos too.

  • Garrett says:

    If one can not read bleak house, or Moby dick, then maybe uni­ver­si­ty should­n’t be for them. My old da can read those, but we don’t have mon­ey. So while my kids could­n’t go to ivy League Uni­ver­si­ty
    Mean­while some vapid dumb dumb gets their hand held for four years. This coun­try has become garbage. No won­der we are now the worst indus­tri­al coun­try on the plan­et.

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