On Invention and Imitation

Also: The fiction of Alfred Hayes, in praise of Montreal, a new history of the Franco-Prussian War, and more.

The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

Many years ago, I taught a freshman composition course at a large Connecticut university. In a meeting at the beginning of the semester, the course’s lead professor told us that writing was “invention” and that students in the class should draw from various essays—the only one I remember was a Richard Rodriguez essay on education (of course)— to “invent” a meaning for themselves. We were instructed (if I recall correctly) to avoid giving examples of “good” sentences and answer student questions with questions of our own, thus supposedly forcing students to look within themselves to find the resources they needed to “invent” the texts that were due every four weeks.

The students, of course, hated this. They wanted examples. They wanted criteria of good and bad prose. They wanted to be told what to do so they could get out of this damn class with a C or whatever and get on with their psychology degree and late afternoon parties. Who could blame them? I ignored the lead professor’s instructions, gave students examples to follow, and never taught there again.

Writing is invention, of course, but it’s not only invention. It is also imitation.