How to Succeed and Impress in Literature of the Americas
Zola Stevens ’26
Ah, the good old days of being young, afraid and innocent, not yet scarred by the horrors of sophomore year. Now, I understand it may be very intimidating going into Literature of the Americas, especially considering its rigor and the terror of starting at high school. But never fear– I am here to help. I am your loyal guide to not just surviving in Literature class, but absolutely thriving. I’ve made you a list, and with it, I can guarantee you that you’ll be not only the smartest person in your class, but the most successful and noticed.
Do NOT under any circumstances do the reading. Reading doesn’t pay the bills. Sparknotes does. And speak up! Do not be afraid to talk about books you haven’t read. In fact, I encourage it. Speaking without even a vague idea of what the book is about builds character and confidence. Be brave.
Repeat what someone just said during class discussion. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, after all. Original ideas are overrated anyway. Paraphrasing is essential. Sometimes it takes a few times for the message to sink in – and you can help! Your professors will all be very grateful to you. Be the parrot.
Don’t be afraid to take up space. Please, please, please rant about a subject or topic completely unrelated to the course! As long as you feel passionate about it, Literature is most certainly the space to discuss what you ate for breakfast, and how you miss all your middle school friends. Create the change you want to see in the world. Be the change.
Participation is overrated. I would advise you to have an average of speaking up maybe – just maybe – once per class for the entire year. If a professor asks you a question, it is better to sit there and look down at the desk. Obviously that question was rhetorical. Most of them are, and don’t require answers. Let another student make a fool of themselves by answering it. Be subtle. Embrace the mystique of it all.
Invent Trauma. Every good essay has a deeply personal reflection in it. It must have a story about how you too feel deeply impacted by the crushing forces of American Imperialism, especially during that one time at summer camp. Make it emotional, tragic, and a touch academic. Be vague and feel deeply.
Quote theorists you haven't read. Carry a tattered notebook full of quotes for any situation. Arendt, Foucault, Luxemburg, Hobbes, Butler, and Derrida. Sprinkle them into your conversations in class like seasoning. Say things like “Foucault believes that power is everywhere, and in this case it clearly operates through the gaze” or “Butler argues that gender is a performance, this really aligns with her argument that identity is not innate.” You don’t need to know what that means. And if anyone dares ask you to explain, just tilt your head slightly, sigh, and mutter, “That’s such a neoliberal question.” Be a winner.
Make everything a metaphor. Burning books? Clearly the author hates reading. News flash: that rain on page 156 isn’t rain. It’s generational trauma. The beauty of this tactic is that nothing is not a metaphor. Two characters aren’t talking? They were silenced by colonial erasure. If you ever think you’re reading too much into it, you’re not. Interrupt everything till it’s unrecognizable. Be a scholar.
Write the essay the night before it’s due. The greatest thinkers of humanity did all their best thinking at night, between the hours of 3 am and 4 am. Critical thinkers work best when sleep deprived. Writing is ten times easier at night, especially on a deadline. The sleep deprivation hallucinations give amazing feedback. Be an aspiring insomniac.
Use big words. The thesaurus is your best friend for the next four years. Replace sad with melancholic postcolonial malaise. Don’t under any circumstances use the word important. Instead, try semantically significant or indispensably mandatory. The more syllables the better. Clarity is the enemy – don’t worry if they don’t make sense. This is Literature not Math. Be the meaning.
Always connect the text to capitalism. It doesn’t matter what the book is about; capitalism is the root of all evil. Communism works just as well as a solution to every problem. If you’re ever stuck, just say something along the lines of “This speaks to the commodification and objectification of the body under late-stage capitalism.” No one will question you. They’ll nod solemnly. Be Karl Marx.
I hope this list helps you do your absolute best in class. Of course, depending on your professor, the success rate of these recommendations may vary, but I promise your professors and peers will all bend to your intellectual superiority eventually. Remember to make your essay titles as dramatic as possible. One last note before I leave you to your demise (oops, I mean success): ask yourself everyday in front of the mirror, what are the conditions that constitute me as a subject of macroeconomics? Check yourself before you wreck yourself.