Much like Aeneas’ journey into the Underworld, preparing set texts over the summer holiday is a liminal phase between the old life and the new. It is not, I should add, a task of determining how to teach the texts; that, of course, can’t be answered until I’ve met the pupils.
What outcomes do I want to achieve?
Yes, I want the pupils to access and appreciate some real Latin or Greek literature. I want them to deploy and progress their language skills. But I also recognise that I have a duty to get them through their examination, and by the time it comes to the summer term (and preferably earlier…), they need to be able to translate a blank copy of their set text accurately and naturally.
How do I achieve those outcomes?
Of course, there are lots of variables to consider: age, experience, time available, the ability of the set, resources and so on. The genre and difficulty of the text are also important: Vergil might require a different approach to Pliny, say.
But one other really important factor is the translation process. If a translation is indeed to be distributed, how is that translation created? By whom? When? Should I give out a translation before we look at the Latin, so that the pupils can read it through quickly and get a sense of the story? Or shall I wait until we have been through the whole text? Or shall I distribute it in chunks as we go?
I am fortunate in that I currently teach motivated pupils with a good grasp of the classical languages, and so in the sixth form we tend not to give them a written translation , or indeed to ask them to write their own. Instead, we focus on getting their translation skills up to such a good standard that they are able, with the help of a vocabulary list, a decent commentary and the assistance of their teacher, to translate the texts themselves.
And we discourage them from writing a translation as they go.
Why?
Well, the simple answer is that we want them to be focusing on the language of Sophocles or Ovid or Cicero rather than an English translation of it. If they wish to read a translation of the text to get a sense of it as an architectural whole (something which can be a good idea, especially for essay prep), they will be able to find a decent one online or in any bookshop: to date, the exam boards haven’t set so obscure as to be unpublished in translation!
Our approach is, of course, not possible in many contexts, and I have taught in other schools in which I have provided a translation for A-level texts without thinking twice about it.
I feel that GCSE sets will always require a written translation, even if the pupils are very able. The huge gulf between GCSE language requirements and the sort of language used by a classical author demands it, and many pupils like the security. A very able set might construct their own translation as we go, and we will certainly have interesting discussions about linguistic nuances whilst we are creating it. But I am still likely to give them my own typed version at the end in order to ensure that they all have what they need for their revision.
This translation tends to be as close to the Latin/Greek as I can make it: the pupils are then more likely to use the translation as a means of accessing the Latin/Greek, rather than just viewing it as something to be learned off by heart.
My usual approach with a GCSE set- though it hasn’t always been like this- is to get the class to work on a translation of a chunk of the text in pairs, with some vocab to help and perhaps a support sheet of some sort. They can then discuss this together. I am not keen on getting them to write down the translation as we go: copying off the board is just not a good use of lesson time, and the chance of at least one of the pupils making a mistake is high. The same goes for the dictation method, though I have heard many arguments to the contrary regarding the merits of getting pupils to write down, and therefore engage with, their translation.
So, I tend to hand out a translation chunk by chunk at the end of each page of text, for pupils to stick in. This is perhaps old-fashioned, and one problem is that it means that any interesting discussions we might have about the translation of certain words (e.g. pietas: ‘piety’? ‘duty’?) do not necessarily make it into our class translation, which I have predetermined. A way round this would be an electronic document, easily updated real time and shared using OneNote.
There are, of course, many more questions about the teaching of set texts which we’ll be posting about this year:
- How can set texts strengthen language teaching?
- Should you start a GCSE set text in year 10 or year 11?
- How should you introduce stylistic analysis?
- Continuous verse text or anthology selection?
- Two prose texts or prose and verse (or verse and verse)?
- Or what about the Literature and Culture paper?
- And, crucially, how to prevent ‘text-bashing’ from becoming tedious for the pupils?
If you would like to have a go at blogging on any of these questions, or others, then please get in touch. We’d love to hear from you!
Here is another view on this by Dani Bostick, an American teacher who writes for In Medias Res.
