Writing at the End of the World

by Richard E. Miller

What do the humanities have to offer in the twenty-first century? Are there compelling reasons to go on teaching the literate arts when the schools themselves have become battlefields? Does it make sense to go on writing when the world itself is overrun with books that no one reads? In these simultaneously personal and erudite reflections on the future of higher education, Richard E. Miller moves from the headlines to the classroom, focusing in on how teachers and students alike confront the existential challenge of making life meaningful. In meditating on the violent events that now dominate our daily lives—school shootings, suicide bombings, terrorist attacks, contemporary warfare—Miller prompts a reconsideration of the role that institutions of higher education play in shaping our daily experiences, and asks us to reimagine the humanities as centrally important to the maintenance of a compassionate, secular society. By concentrating on those moments when individuals and institutions meet and violence results, Writing at the End of the World provides the framework that students and teachers require to engage in the work of building a better future.

Genres: Nonfiction

248 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2005

Reviews

[J.S.A. Lowe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really remarkable—this reads like an extended text2cloud entry bringing together so many of my favorite/most contested things (Pecola Breedlove! Freire! Fresh Kills!), admirable and surprisingly inspiring (surprising, given the bleak state of affairs). Miller's gift is for picking his way across vast swathes of contemporary culture and then, somehow, you're not quite sure how because he's done it so seamlessly, tying together so many things you can't quite believe it, and doing so in a convincingly resonant way. I wish I could explain it better than that, without having to resort to real-scale reproduction of these essays/chapters. Masterfully unassuming, a quiet humility and humanity in his writing voice that steals in and persuades you with its civility—wish I could sit in on his TA workshop at Rutgers.

[Sara Edgell · Rating 5 out of 5]

Remarkably moving. This book affected me to the core. As a college English composition instructor, I found this book to be pertinent and extremely insightful considering the technology driven and sometimes socially isolating time and world in which I teach. Teacher or not, it's an important book that you must read.

[Lynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. He juxtaposes memoir and theory, along with observations about popular culture. He investigates why, and if, the humanities are or can be important in the 21st century. He's a good writer. His theoretical investigations are lucid and clear.

[Gladys · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anyone who is interested in saving the Humanities in the 21 century should read this!

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Those of us who teach composition often ask our students the “So what?” question about their writing. After reading a draft of expository discourse, we will look our students in the eye—or, if we’re working in the solitude of our offices, we’ll simply scribble it in the margin—and ask “So what?” We believe we’re challenging the student to think more deeply about his/her analysis—why does this matter? What you’re saying here, why is it important? Who cares? Why is your writing relevant? And if it is relevant, to what and to whom is it relevant? What we’re really asking the student to do, however, is to justify the time anyone would spend reading what he/she has written.

Miller, in an admirable act of scholarly chutzpah, turns this question around and asks the very same thing of academics, especially those of us who teach writing and are convinced that it truly matters. So what, he asks? In the face of global terror—he discusses events ranging from the Columbine massacre to 9-11 to the Unabomber and the Charles Van Doren quiz show scandal—what difference does writing make? Or all of the humanities, for that matter?

A bracing inquiry, to say the least. Fortunately, Miller himself is one of us—the learned product of a liberal education and an academic who questions himself and his own practices as much as he questions anything else. He carefully parses the schisms between personal writing and academic discourse, as he does the alleged division between reader response theory and New Criticism.

Engagingly written—stylistically, Miller has a refreshing edge, almost an attitude—and thought-provoking in ways that should make us all reconsider our practice, Miller’s book should be required reading for anyone working in a college or university English department.

[Ross Bussell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Miller really made me think "wow, I really am not subversive enough in my writing praxis." It was an interesting book, it really made consider writing as a means to a greater good in terms of the current social and political climate in both the United States and the world at large. I still don't know if it was something I was ready for at this point, his points were very clear, but the way he went about getting to them were shocking and depressing at the same time. Overall, I will put this book on the shelf and will surely reference it in the future.

[Jesse · Rating 5 out of 5]

Miller is a delightful pessimist. Miller is to higher ed what Neil Postman is to media. Except I think Miller is more optimistic.
Need to come back to this more, but perhaps my favorite read of the entire semester so far.

[AJ Nolan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Attended a panel discussing this book at the 2023 CCCCs, with the author as part of this panel. It was an interesting discussion and got me interested in reading this book. One thing that I found engaging with this discussion, and with the book when I read it, is how it blends academic writing with personal narrative, which is part of the trend in composition and academic writing that recognizes that positionality matters. There were many interesting points in this book, just as there were in the discussion, but I find myself pushing against the same thing in the book as I did when I asked a question in the panel, which is this book encourages the exploring of personal trauma in the writing of composition and narrative in the composition classroom. This is a problematic practice, because to write about trauma, for those with PTSD, is the same as actually re-experiencing the trauma. While this can be part of the recovery process through exposure therapy, it isn't suitable to be taught or encouraged in a classroom full of students led by a professor who is focused on teaching rhetoric and not on guiding a patient through a therapeutic exercise. Because of this I, and many others, take issue with the practice of assigning personal narratives in the Freshman Composition classroom. That said, this book precedes a lot of the scholarship on the triggering effects of writing about trauma, BUT when I asked the question of the panel, all seemed to still be of the opinion that asking students to write and share about their most traumatic experiences was good practice. So, 4 stars.