How to Read Literature Like a Professor: A Lively and Entertaining Guide to Reading Between the Lines, Revised Edition

The author is an English professor at the University of Michigan and it becomes apparent quite quickly that he is one of those popular professors who is chatty and has lots of students signing up for his introductory courses on literature. The language is friendly and the examples are entertaining as well as informative. If I lived in Flint, I'd take his classes. There have been many times I've read a book and just *known* the author is trying to impart more than I am taking away from the prose, and I hear about symbolism in literature, yet I have very little success finding it on my own. One time in high school I had a very good English teacher who would point out the symbolism in stories and novels, but he never told us how to do it, as this book does. With chapters on a wide range of topics (journeys, meals, poetry, Shakespeare, the Bible, mythology, fairy tales, weather, geography, violence, politics, sex and illness, among others) and a wide variety of examples, I found myself learning A LOT. Certainly this would not be of much value to a literature graduate student or professor, but for the rest of us this is a great introduction to getting more out of our reading (or viewing, as the author also touches on film, though to a lesser extent). The book concludes with a test, in which you read a short story and interpret it using the principles put forth by Professor Foster, then interpretations by several students and Foster himself -- delightful and illuminating! Finally, the author gives a suggested reading/viewing list and an index. Two problems with the book: first, as I mentioned, the style of the author is conversational, but sometimes to the point of being distracting; secondly, the topics covered are quite idiosyncratic, leaving out as many as are included, though the author addresses this. Still, I give the book 5 out of 5 because it was entertaining, accessible and it has improved my understanding and appreciation of subsequent books I've read and even films I've seen. Update (06/12/16): Critical reviews seem to concentrate on two negatives -- that the author overgeneralizes ("Every meal is communion") and that the material is repetitive. Perhaps both elements can be explained by noting the intended audience -- college undergraduates. Critics want it known that "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar". I agree wholeheartedly. It's been a while since I read this book (Can it really be over a decade?!) but I don't remember coming away thinking that symbolism was universal and nothing was ever meant literally. If the author actually made that statement I do disagree. Perhaps he qualified the universal within the text? Regardless, even if the author overstated his position in that instance I garnered so much benefit from the book that its ideas inform my reading to this day. No book is perfect, and I suppose the professor would enjoy that some readers do criticise his ideas! As to the second perceived flaw, repetitiveness, if you've ever taught you know that you can't say something once and assume it's been internalized. Personally I found repeating concepts often helped me, and often the same idea is related in a different context, so it's not presented identically, if I remember correctly. I do not know, but I suspect, that those readers who did not enjoy it were either too sophisticated for the material, or not ready for it. Personally, as someone with a background in the sciences and social sciences who reads a fair amount of fiction, and not someone who has heard these concepts discussed very much, I learned a lot from this book and believe it continues to add to my enjoyment and understanding of fiction in books and film. I would still give it 5 stars. But man, do I feel old!

It's a rare day that I'm willing to give a full five out of five stars to a book. It's rarer still that I'll give the five stars, and then put it back on my bed-stand for continual reference in my future reading. It's just that kind of a book, and every bibliophile should read it. In "How to Read Literature like a Professor," Thomas Foster has given us a delightful little romp through literature, producing a guide to the themes, symbolism, ironies, allusions, and plots that reoccur through-out almost all of the fiction we read. Whether it's Charles Dickens or Charles Schulz or even Tom Clancy, Foster's collection of essays are each a fun and enjoyable guide to what you've been reading, and what you will read, when you pick up a work of fiction. For example: in chapter 10, "It's more than just rain or snow," we read that "weather is never just weather. It's never just rain." Rather, Foster says, instead of providing just a setting, a backdrop to the story, weather in fiction is rooted in our fears and hopes. In addition to appearing as a feature character in the Judeo-Christian-Islamic biblical tale of the great flood, it makes notable and significant sightings in mythologies from all over the world, often, if not always, appearing and appealing to our fear of drowning. "Rain," Foster says, "prompts ancestral memories of the most profound sort. So water in great volume speaks to us at a very basic level of being. So rain--and floods--signifies drowning? Kind of, but it doesn't stop there. Citing D.H. Lawrence's "The Virgin and the Gypsy" (1930), which I've not read yet, Foster sees it as a "big eraser that destroys but also allows a brand-new start." Kind of like baptism? Yeah. If you're part of that Christian tradition, this is what baptism is: death of the old, imperfect, and flawed man, and rebirth of a new man. And such is the role that this element--rain and floods--plays in literature. Well, most of the time. Fog can represent a lack of clarity, sunshine hope and clarity. In short, weather is rarely just setting. That's rain and weather. Each chapter is a written with a quick and light wit that allows a reader, whatever his level of experience with literature, to follow along, see the theme, enjoy the examples, and find a taste for the point. Other chapter titles include the following: * "When in Doubt, It's from Shakespeare..." * "...Or the Bible" * "It's All Political" * "Marked for Greatness" * "Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion" and, of course, * "Nice to Eat You: Acts of Vampire." (Stephanie Meyer ought to pick that one up to understand why people who love literature hate Twilight). Weighing in at just under three hundred pages, "How to Read Literature Like a Professor" doesn't require deep commitment, deep concentration, or deep literature reading. My brain-candy of choice usually falls in the science-fiction or fantasy categories, and yet, I've started to find the themes and allusions and ironies that I saw in classics like "Howards End" and "Bleak House" appearing there, too. Whatever you read, it applies the symbolism that Foster walks through. As a result, my experience, whatever I'm reading, has been more enjoyable since I started it. It's that moment of sudden realization when the whole theme of Steven Erikson "Book of the Fallen" subplot (and there are a lot of them) is an allusion, or imitation, to Spartacus (I think). Or that the journey (all journeys are quests) across the water is a journey of transformation, where the fallen man chooses to start a new life, emerging from the water, as it were, reborn. It's fun. A lot of fun. Even just reading the book itself is fun. To boot, at the end Foster provides a list of all the books he refers to throughout his essays to allow you, the reader, to pick them up and read further. And what could be more fun about reading than delving into great fiction? Pick it up, start reading, and enhance your general reading experience. If you're going to read fiction, and you should, you might as well get the most out of it.

There is no crash course in literature quite like the revised edition of Tomas C. Foster’s How To Read Literature Like a Professor: A Lively and Entertaining Guide to Reading Between the Lines. Symbolism, theme, cultural context—you could be awakened to these elements in any great work by taking a full course. Foster’s book is an analytical guide rife with classic examples and explanations, tailored to the unliterary mind curious to become more literate. The title itself strikes at our envy, and even our disdain for ivory tower condescension: In the introduction Foster himself, a professor, admits that it seems “at times as if the professor is either inventing interpretations out of thin air or else performing parlor tricks, a sort of analytical slight of hand.” As a teacher, I feel students feel that way about me sometimes, that I call them in to my room to show them what linguistic tricks an author is pulling, or even pulling tricks with their words like I’m folding a dollar bill to make it say “state of fear.” Even in his own book Foster seems at times to be stretching too far to read something into the works of renowned authors. But even he qualifies these interpretations with the reminder that often the interpretation is up to the reader, and could be right, wrong, or both. He’s not telling us how to read correctly, but how to read with the mind of a professor, looking for both obvious clues and vague hints at subtexts and secrets. Foster handles each literary technique by chapter, spending multiple pages on, for example, all journeys are quests for self-knowledge (and the goal is never the stated one), all meals are acts of communion (unless ironically not), that rain is an act of cleansing (unless it’s an act of something else), that flight means freedom (or sometimes just travel), and that it’s all about sex (except for sex, which is about power). The purpose of learning all this stuff isn’t to help you understand plot or characterization, but to deepen, to enrich the experience of the novel or poem. Foster does devote entire chapters to exploring whether an author really means what professors think they mean, or whether a symbol really is a symbol and not just a…something. A novel, he says, is “a network of meanings and significations, that permit a nearly limitless range of possible interpretations.” This, of course, crosses into the controversial “epistemological politics” of writing—is the author “alive” or “dead”? Are they saying something indisputable exact, or is the meaning out of their hands? We bring our own history to a reading, just as the author does in their writing. So while Foster’s book does barely open up what to literary scholars are intense debates about authorship, meaning, and the nature of any and all bodies of texts, he effectively and thoroughly introduces the rest of society to this world of interpreting works of written art. One of his great strengths is his frequent and diverse examples: from Faulkner, Brookner, Auden, Kingsolver, Nabokov, Stoker, Woolf—and even several films and paintings—not to mention a short story by Matherine Mansfield. I plan to use it in my English Honors classroom in the future. It makes for a challenging but eye-opening assigned reading, as well as a resource for examples of difficult-to-spot symbolic gestures in assigned reading. It’s not about teaching students how to read, exactly, but how we can and do read. -Caleb Coy, author of An Authentic Derivative

My favorite book on writing novels is Foster’s “How to Read Novels Like a Professor” (2008). I know the title says “Read,” but it struck me (a wanna-be novelist) that everything Foster says in that book is a clue about writing and reading both. It works this way because its only subject is the novel. How to Read Literature Like a Professor is only a little like that because it is more broad. Foster writes about novels, short stories, plays, poems, songs, movies, and sometimes even comic books. What do these have in common besides that they are written down (movies are no exception. They are stories. Foster’s observations apply)? They all contain symbolism. Elements of the story, which might be the plot, characters and what they do (or happens to them) moment to moment, or some particulars of setting or conditions–possibly some or all of these–are suggestions, hints, or overt pointers to something beyond themselves. What about simple verisimilitude? Foster mentions it twice. Might it be raining not to symbolize a cleansing of some sort but because the story happens to be set in Seattle in the winter, where and when it rains a lot? I think Foster would say it might be only that, but then he might ask: why set the story in Seattle in the winter? Foster is writing about LITERARY fiction written by acknowledged masters, or at least good writers, of whatever form the literature takes. These authors are also prolific readers. Most of the time, they fully intend the symbolism that educated readers find in their stories, but sometimes, their subconscious supplies the symbolic element even when they don’t consciously intend it. Foster seems to think that, most of the time, great writers do intend their symbolism, and his book is a well-written, easy-to-read traipse through dozens of symbols and a multiplicity of possible meanings from dozens of example works. There are, of course, many more symbols and even more meanings than those he covers. They are as endless as literature itself. His effort in this book gives us who are not literature majors some tools that help us deepen our appreciation of whatever literature we read. It’s a good start!

I picked up How to Read Literature Like a Professor to help me better understand classic and modern texts, and it exceeded my expectations. Thomas C. Foster breaks down complex literary concepts into approachable, engaging chapters that reveal the hidden symbolism, themes, and patterns authors use. What I love most is how Foster makes you see literature through a new lens—pointing out recurring motifs like quests, seasons, and symbolism that I never noticed before. It’s like having a friendly professor guiding you through each page, making reading richer and more rewarding. Whether you’re a student, casual reader, or aspiring writer, this book gives you tools to read smarter and appreciate stories on a deeper level. Highly recommend it if you want to go beyond surface-level reading and truly connect with literature.

There comes a time in every honest conversation about literature between students and professors when the students' willingness to accept the academic way of looking at things fails. Foster, having no doubt been on the receiving end of this skepticism, cites it: "A moment occurs in this exchange between professor and student when each of us adopts a look," Foster explains. "My look says, 'What, you don't get it?' Theirs says, 'We don't get it. And we think you're making it up.'" Fair enough. In fact, there's a legitimate question in the accusation. Are they making it up? There are two answers to the question. *Yes. Absolutely. Very few writers begin with symbols and go to stories. We actually dream our stories or allow them to pop into our heads while we're walking in the woods or the streets or pumping the elipto-cycle at the gym. The layers of symbol that Foster's talking about represent the creativity of readers, not the creativity of writers. We should, by the way, be grateful to them for making this stuff up. Reading in a professorial way requires a great deal of attention. It actually forces the reader to be aware, and awareness as you probably know is the basic stuff of life. Read like a professor and you will have a lot more fun with your reading. Guaranteed. *The second answer is 'No'. No, they're not making it up. Writers live in the world of symbols just like everybody else and when a writer chooses to post (let's say) a dog at the entrance to a dark lane, it's possible that that author is either connecting with or just unconsciously replicating the Classical image of Cerebus guarding the gates of Hell. Most people intuitively understand both these answers, but the trouble begins when we pay too much attention to writers' intentions. What does Murakami mean when Kafka's mentally feeble guide is able to talk to cats? Wrong question. We'll never know what he meant (even if he tried to tell us).What we can 'know' is what it means to us and what pieces of the universal gold mine of meaning it brings to the surface for our attention. Now it seems like this kind of attention to literature could be an interesting game to play-you get to participate in a book, not just read it. In actual fact, most of the writing on the topic is achingly, profoundly, set-the-house-on-fire-to- escape-it dull. Gigantic egos praying to our Lady of the Unwarranted Assumption and offering definitive answers where what is needed are artful suggestions. Foster's book is brilliant because he is appropriately humble in the face of his topic. He seems like a fellow who enjoys his reading, a helpful waiter who tells you which of tonight's specials would really go with your favorite wine. He has certainly made my reading more fun and I have no doubt that he will do the same for you. --Lynn Hoffman, author of THE NEW SHORT COURSE IN WINE and the forthcoming novel bang BANG from Kunati Books.ISBN 9781601640005

(Reviewed by Gwen's 15-year-old son) "How to Read Literature Like a Professor," in many respects, is very much like literature as a whole: broad and encompassing, yet concise and comprehensible. To most people, at least. It is an agreeable, strongly opinionated guide to the things that every reader may be thinking, but is greatly pleased to see written down to reinforce their own opinions. In this respect, it is nothing short of a great piece of analytical literature: it's relevant (and most likely always will be), readable, and refreshing. Many main ideas expressed throughout Thomas Foster's twenty-seven chapters are powerful, and communicate his ideas clearly. The ideas themselves are agreeable, as I found it hard to argue with his conjecture more than a few times. His statements about both the fruition and purpose of literary symbols and themes are insightful and well-read, and he gives many more examples than necessary to prove his point. The analytical nature of each individual chapter is invaluable for a great understanding of his arguments, while also helping the novice reader to find parallels within other works of literature. I myself experienced a few "aha moments" while doing nightly readings, and I cannot help but think of the biblical references or symbolic implications that Foster so aptly drilled into my skull whenever I watch T.V. or pick up a new book. So from the standpoint of the overall goal, Foster achieves it quite decisively. What else HTRLLP does well is to draw thematic evidence from literary sources that span over much of written human history. Homer, Shakespeare, Poe, and J.K. Rowling are all a part of Foster's roster of famous writers, and they all contribute. This is what made reading the book enjoyable to me; knowing what he's referencing is pivotal to understanding. However, I personally feel like there are a large number of disagreeable parts to this book that more than sap the potential in Foster's arguments. As stated earlier, Foster's arguments are well-read, with large, detailed anecdotes about novels with particular relevancy to each chapter. But that is just the issue. This book is a guide for a novice literary analyst and writer, but Foster expects the reader to know obscure novels that would not crop up in an average high school curriculum. Besides a quick detour on Shakespeare, almost every other reference in the entire book is a nod toward some random piece of literature. Granted, these random pieces of literature may be great ones, but it is hard to understand an argument when you have never read Going After Cacciato. And that book is referenced a lot. Although Foster does adequately to abridge the main points, a reader cannot connect on a deeper level with a novel if all they have to work with is the shallow summary of a book, and that is exactly what Foster intends for us, the reader, to do. Also, Foster falls short in that he provides his reader with a very narrow concept of literature as a whole. The first chapter was absolutely repugnant, and hearing the phrase "there's only one story" drove me insane. Like language itself, literature is ripe with exceptions, and there is no instance where a situation is always or never true; it simply is not that black and white. On that same note, at any instance that Foster adds an infinitive like "always" or "never" into his bolded phrases, my mind would look for any example to prove him wrong. He himself stated that "`always' and `never' are not words that have much meaning in literary study" and his parallels to Jungian theory just beg for opposition. He may be saying it for the sake of clarity, which is necessary to any thesis, but using words as inflexible as "never" leads me to believe that Foster is making an opinion out of an unbiased analysis of literature. Chapter two resonated with me because of a single line on Sigmund Freud, "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." This idea, so simple, and yet pragmatic, could very well be applied to the remainder of Foster's novel. In some instances, Foster has some very profound moments, like describing the mechanics of intertextuality and the pervasiveness of Shakespearean quotation. However, he has some low moments as well. The deeper the reader goes into the book, the less comprehensible his ideas become. While the single, bolded line is still there in every chapter, the analysis that follows gets longer, and above all, more singular in viewpoint. It is here where Foster has run the risk of overanalyzing his ideas, to a point where these ideas blur into nothing more than pure personal conjecture. While he promotes the free flow of individual significance to symbol and theme, his own ideas saturate the page so heavily that the reader gets bogged down with thoughts that they are not their own. And finally, the coup de grace is the "no duh" moment. For a 281 page guide to literature, you can expect it to cover quite a bit of ideas, archetypes, and popular allusions. But more often than not, this coverage is simply not the analysis one should expect from such an ambitious book. It has very casual, almost simple rhetorical questions like "Just what do up and down mean?" and "`Who ya gonna call?'" followed by similarly clichéd or skin deep analysis. When you remove all of the personal opinions Foster lets seep into his pages, as well as the content that is pure anecdote or ponderous questioning, you will usually end up with little more than that single bolded phrase that summarizes each chapter. While I praise Foster for his directness, I do not feel the same way about asserting author's intent and conversing as if his readers could not possibly understand cultural reference. Overall, I feel as if "How to Read Literature Like a Professor" is an interesting mix of great accomplishment and crippling error. I learned, but I did not enjoy doing it. I put up with his banter and bad jokes and probably acquired a great tool for experiencing literature. But I cannot say that this book is a triumph or a nasty brown stain on the face of analytical literature. For all of its glaring faults and obvious ideas, what this book achieves will leave a more lasting impression than its pitfalls. Foster's highly mythological analysis of literature and its origins may be out of most people's capacity or patience, but it does have quite a bit to offer. But if I were to phrase all of this, I guess it would have to be as follows: you can't enjoy "How to Read Literature Like a Professor" unless you are one.

I really liked this book and ended up finishing it in just a week. Thomas C. Foster has a way of explaining things that makes everything click without sounding too academic or boring. Before reading it, I never really thought about all the deeper meanings behind symbols or patterns in literature, but now I find myself noticing things I would’ve missed before. He breaks down common themes like quests, meals, and weather in a way that actually makes them interesting and useful. What I appreciated most was how he used examples from books I’ve heard of or read, so the ideas felt relevant and easy to apply. It’s made reading fiction feel richer and more thoughtful, like there’s a whole layer I wasn’t seeing before. If you’re someone who loves reading or wants to get more out of the books you already enjoy, this is definitely worth picking up.