Editor:

When I was 15 years old, my father, a responsible parent who cared enough to regulate his children’s choices of entertainment, once began to object to a novel I happened to be reading. It turned out to be a short discussion.

I had just returned from spending the summer at my grandparents’ home in Utah, where I discovered the treasures of an English teacher’s (my grandfather’s) library. Beginning with “Peyton Place,” I read a number of classics that summer. Instead of watching TV or thumbing through a Harlequin romance, I actually had my nose in books by Twain, Hawthorne and many other venerated authors. When my father learned that the book was from my grandfather’s collection, he was satisfied that it was suitable reading material. He respected my grandfather’s judgment, and I think his own appreciation of great literature helped override his initial doubt.

Now, many years later, an English teacher myself, I owe much to literature and believe the great books contain secrets of truth and beauty integral to humanity. To keep our cultural imagination alive, we must safeguard the privilege to turn the page. We must take care not to reduce opportunities for inspiration and discourse that could foster a love for the arts in this and future generations.

As an adult, I understand why my father questioned my 15-year-old reading choice and why, today, some parents in our community feel a need to protect their children from this year’s Big Read pick. However, I hope they will also consider the reasons why “Bless Me, Ultima” was chosen by the National Endowment for the Arts as a Big Read novel and why it is acclaimed (winner of the PEN Center West Award for Fiction) for its distinctive portrayal of a rural Hispanic community in the Southwest. An esteemed, unique work of art (included on many high school reading lists throughout the country), it has more to offer than the current controversy implies.

Although this is my first year to teach the book, I know, from the recommendations of colleagues who have taught it, of its reputation for reaching self-proclaimed nonreaders. So if “Bless Me, Ultima” has the potential to be someone’s gateway novel – well, isn’t that the purpose of The Big Read? (Or, as one of my students might put it, “Hello!”)

We readers have much to gain by recognizing Rudolfo Anaya’s craftsmanship, his masterful depiction of a profoundly true-to-life experience. Placing too much emphasis on some choice words is like reading Shakespeare for the thrill of the double entendre or skimming through the Bible to find stories featuring sex and violence. Ironically enough, efforts to ban the novel may provoke an opposite effect (students seeking out the novel for comparable sophomoric reasons).

On the other hand, the classroom is the place for this novel; it is where the issues can be handled capably and discussed intelligently. The local Big Read committee suggested it be taught to grades 10 and above to encourage a mature – rather than a missing-the-point, limited – reading of the text.

Through my own study of the novel, I maintain that Anaya’s thoughtful prose does not stoop to shock value; the offensive language is used specifically and for a purpose. Yes, there are some characters from the other side of the tracks, but they are integral to the story and so – potty mouths and all – require authentic treatment. Furthermore, the juicy parts, if you will, are few and far between. Currently, my 12th-grade students, who just received the novel, have yet to find them (though they are exercising their scanning skills, having read other letters to the editor in the Eastern Arizona Courier).

I hate to overuse the theme of irony, but I do also wonder why there is so much opposition to a novel that promotes such an honorable message: “. . .good is always stronger than evil. . .the smallest bit of good can stand against all the powers of evil in the world, and it will emerge triumphant.” After all, our young people deserve more than daily doses of superfluous violence from the typical sources (TV, video games, etc.). Great books, such as “Bless Me, Ultima,” have the power to deliver this something more.

I’d venture to say that if he were alive, my grandfather, who loved the classics as much as he did his religion and family, would find a place for this book.

Sandra Hill

Safford