Literature

There’s a certain amount of mystery in the air around the Literature department–or maybe that’s just the cigarette smoke. Lit’s got a rep for being one of Harvard’s more esoteric concentrations, filled with artsy Advocate-ians and worldly European ex-pats who spend all day at the wrought-iron tables outside Boylston Hall, arguing about Kafka in a dozen foreign languages and smoking whatever’s at hand. But don’t stress—the passport and drug habits are all optional.

Literature is for those who want to study the—surprise!—literature of multiple languages in a depth other larger concentrations cannot provide. Only thirty to forty students each year end up as Lit kids and as a result, friendly department chair Dr. Sandra Naddaff knows every one of them by name. As for the hipsters, the range of languages and interests that draw people to Literature results in a culturally and academically diverse group of minds that is more United Nations than Urban Outfitters.

The faculty has some flavor and diversity as well, though perhaps not so much camaraderie. There’s Summers-hating and terrificly-titled Weary Professor of German and Comparative Literature Judith L. Ryan. And then there’s Summers-lovin’, aptly-titled Peretz Professor of Yiddish Literature and Professor of Comparative Literature Ruth R. Wisse. It was Wisse who accused Summers’ vocal opponents—of whom Ryan was certainly one—of anti-Semitism after Larry was ousted in Februrary. Wouldn’t you like to be a fly on a wall during department meetings?

Sixteen courses and a thesis stand between you and graduation, but you get a fantastic amount of leeway. Whether it’s VES or Slavic Languages, cross-listed courses are numerous and easily fill up requirements. Virtually anything requiring more writing than signing your name to a p-set counts. Concentrators cite this flexibility as a great strength, but be careful what you wish for–some students find themselves paralyzed by a lack of departmental structure.

Seemingly half the course catalog is up for grabs. Advisors are a little too eager to make you choose your own path, so you may be tempted to just throw darts at the Courses of Instruction rather than narrow it down yourself.

Instead, listen to Confi and start with Ryan’s cross-listed class, Comparative Literature 161, “Modernist Movements.” In typical Lit fashion, it serves up an otherwise tired topic with interdisciplinary, multilingual style. Along with the standard Eliot and Pound, students read in several languages, listen to sound poetry, and critique Expressionist art. Sweet.

Although the prospect of coming up with a junior paper topic and an area of study in the one-on-one junior tutorials is daunting, concentrators often rank the class among their favorites. So stick with Lit, even though the crapshoot known as sophomore tutorial draws reviews ranging from the occasional “fantastic!” to “shitty.” Less sweet.

One major reason for this is that damn literary theory. By the end of sophomore year, you’ll be able to drop your own facile pastiches of literary thought from all the heavy hitters like the most seasoned GSAS grad student, even if you don’t understand a damn thing. After that, you’re free to dump it if you’re all paradigmed out, continue if you so desire, or pick up Sanskrit as your third language. As with most things Lit, it’s completely up to you.