15-year-old Sofia Vorobei argues for why it’s still important to read Jane Austen and other classics
In a recent class, our teacher told us to read a simple, crude juvenile book about love.
When asked why we weren’t being given a more challenging novel, their response was simple: “These books are supposed to appeal to teenagers. If we gave you a classic, you’d get bored and just not read it.”
That answer stuck with me. Is it fair to assume that a deeper, more intricate story – one that challenges our perceptions of love and life – would automatically be too much for us? It made me think about how the love stories we’re encouraged to read today are vastly different from the classics of the 19th and early 20th centuries.
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Poster for the American release of Alfred Hitchcock's 1940 film Rebecca based on the novel by Daphne du Maurier.
These books are not just about the story – they’re a powerful way to learn to understand people better and foster greater empathy.
The strong opinion I hold on this topic was shaped after reading Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, followed by Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. The former is a classic romance novel in every sense of the word and the latter a combination of romance and emotional thriller, and both books left a lasting impression on me.
I was dazzled by how they focused on the psychological aspects of love and the internal conflicts it can spark. Without relying on sexual descriptions or steamy scenes, these stories allowed me to feel what the characters were experiencing, letting me walk a mile in their shoes.
For context, I’m currently studying in a local Spanish school, in 4ESO, the equivalent of the second year of high school. As part of our curriculum, we often have literature assignments designed to appeal to ‘our generation’. It’s a practical approach, but I’ve always felt it misses the mark. Not all teenagers enjoy oversimplified stories packed with clichés and drama.
The books are mostly written by authors from around the small town where we study and the stories tend to revolve around either love (always focusing on sexual relationships) or something overly violent and brutal – sometimes bordering on the absurd. This is supposedly the type of content young people enjoy today.
Love is the topic of choice because it’s taken for granted that teenagers are captivated by it in any of its forms, which is why I’d like to focus on romance books and how they have seemingly evolved over the years.
A couple of centuries ago, these stories delved into the psychological aspects of love and approached the subject with grace and caution. Today, however, they are primarily centred on the physical side of love, filled with explicit sexual descriptions and overused, predictable drama.
The books we are given to choose from are all young adult (YA) literature. Most have attention-grabbing covers but far less appealing content. A prime example is Las lágrimas de Shiva by César Mallorquí.
It’s a rather predictable novel in which the protagonist, Javier, spends a summer in Santander, where he begins a questionable (at times bordering on inappropriate) romance with his cousin Violeta while investigating a family drama involving a lost necklace and his ancestors. The plot lacks depth and is riddled with clichés.
That said, some of my classmates genuinely enjoyed it, and I have nothing against people reading it in their free time. However, I don’t believe it’s a suitable choice for an academic assignment meant to represent truly worthy literature.
Moreover, the authors who write these books seem to release a new one almost every month. I simply don’t think it’s possible to write a good novel that quickly, immediately start another, and keep repeating the process.
This approach might be more acceptable if it actually worked – if students felt encouraged to read what they were assigned, enjoyed it and were inspired to explore literature as a leisure activity. But it doesn’t. Not at all.
Those students who are capable of tackling more serious and challenging novels end up reading the simpler ones because they are told to, while those who struggle with reading still refuse to engage with the assigned books.
Time and time again, the day before an exam (we take one at the end of each term on what we’ve supposedly read), classmates have asked me for a quick recap, admitting they haven’t even opened the book. Why set the bar so low for those of us who want to learn?
Imagine how much more meaningful and enriching it would be if books like Sense and Sensibility and Rebecca were chosen, not just for their portrayal of love but for their literary merit. If the core issue is that adolescents find those ‘old’ novels boring, I see no problem in picking complex and meaningful contemporary books, by authors such as Sally Rooney, whose work resembles the classics.
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