Here is a lovely story I heard at the weekend, about how to be a good literature teacher. Offered as a palate cleanser from the state of discourse on this site.

Eminent Oxford professor, to nervous kid being interviewed for college admission: "So you're interested in King Lear. What do you think of the switch in behavior of Goneril and Regan between Acts I and II?"
Nervous kid, after much hesitation: "I'm afraid I only read Act I."

Eminent Shakespearean, startled: "Really? Surely you have seen the whole play, anyway? Have you even read or been told a summary? Have you skimmed through the rest?"
Nervous kid: "No, my teacher said not to".

You might think the story would go horribly from here. Surely the professor will humiliate the kid for showing up so poorly read. Surely the kid will regret being honest, and learn to adopt silly postures to cover for ignorance.

But no!
Eminent Professor, with excitement and warmth: "How wonderful! I've never had the chance to talk to anyone who had only read Act I! What do you think will happen?" They dug into a detailed close reading of Act I. Kid got into the college, and did great.

If only we could all approach all our conversations, about literature or history or life, like that -- with empty cups ready to be filled, with honesty and with patience, with attentiveness, curiosity, kindness and respect.

The eminent professor was my mother.

Her name was Katherine Duncan-Jones. She was a brilliant scholar and a wonderful, kind human being. I heard this story at her memorial service, told brilliantly by Heather O'Donaghue. I'm grateful to everyone who came to celebrate her life.