Year 13 student Zara Dollie considers all the books she studied from years 9 to 13, and puts them in their place.
From Shakespeare’s tragic love to S.E. Hinton’s street fights, we have all battled with “novel studies” throughout our NCEA careers. A “novel study” consists of closely analysing a book chosen by your teacher to write essays about. It’s often a dreaded aspect of the year because it requires doing things teenagers don’t typically want to do: deep reading, critical thinking, and clear writing under pressure.
How often do these stories continue to impact us after the final exam is over? What life lessons did 1984 teach me? How did The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas develop my capacities for empathy? With the new English curriculum incoming, now feels like a good time to revisit the novels I was made to study throughout secondary school – and reflect on the ones that stayed with me.
To help me reason with how these books impacted me (or not), I ranked them using the following criteria:
- How relevant the text was at the time I studied it;
- Its literary merit;
- Whether it taught me any lasting life lessons.
5. The Raging Quiet by Sherryl Jordan
Studied in Year 11
Marnie’s journey to Fernleigh and her catalytic relationship with Raven filled me with an unimaginable amount of disdain – and I wasn’t the only one that felt this way. Marnie’s relationship with Raven, while clearly intended to be poignant, didn’t resonate with me the way other characters in media have. I struggled to invest myself in the progression of their bond, and instead enjoyed the individual personalities of the characters. That said, Jordan’s ability to highlight the complexities of empathy was evident and admirable.
At age 15 I was reading Sally Rooney, dabbling in Emily Brontë, growing amicable with Murakami. While The Raging Quiet taught independence, standing up to conformity, and breaking away from societal norms, it lacked the mind-bending, evocative depth other authors provided.
I do believe that incorporating Aotearoa writers into the curriculum is important, but I would have liked to explore these themes through a more culturally familiar setting – one that reflected our own society. Jordan is a fantastic writer, but this story didn’t challenge me in the ways I needed at that stage. At Year 11 we needed something complex, a story to sink our teeth into, and The Raging Quiet was not that novel. I do think, however, that this book would be an amazing novel for students between Year 7 and 8 to read as a class.
4. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas by John Boyne
Studied in Year 9
The story of Shmuel and Bruno is heavy enough to make any adult eyes well with tears, so as an impressionable 13-year-old, I found this book profoundly sad. This story was so impactful because of its simplicity. Boyne didn’t write descriptive, gruesome scenes, but instead used the innocence of childhood as a tool to convey the weight of tragedy.
The contrast between a child’s curiosity and the bleak reality of the holocaust struck a chord in all of us. Boyne’s storytelling sparked conversations not just about history, but about empathy, injustice, and just how easily innocence can be lost.
Boyne’s writing contained the perfect level of mature language for our age group. We were taught valuable lessons through this book, such as the dangers of prejudice – a relevant lesson during the rise of bullying online and offline. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas was the first in-depth exposure to just how gruesome the holocaust was for most students in our class. Many students later revisited the holocaust through social science and history, which made this novel a formative first step — one that shaped our emotional understanding before the facts arrived.
3. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey
Studied in Year 13
The themes within One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest were eye-opening, fresh and fitting for a Year 13 class. Its structure and characters were unlike anything I’d studied in school before — a welcome shift. At its core, the novel taught the importance of human connection – an appropriate lesson at this age.
In the novel, the main character McMurphy fosters connections between patients in a psychiatric hospital, despite their different struggles, and creates a web of camaraderie. His ability to unite people showed students that authentic leadership sometimes lies in rebellion against injustice, and in empathy, and in the capacity of human connection to repel oppressive systems. This made us question authority and institutions, raising conversations about how those in power can misuse their authority under the guise of order or care (for example, the ward’s use of electroshock therapy and lobotomy as tools for control, rather than healing.)
These weren’t just literary concepts. They were life lessons. And they stayed with me.
2. 1984 by George Orwell
Studied in Year 12
Studying dystopia in Year 12 was one of my favourite units throughout my school years. 1984 hooked my class from the beginning — probably because dystopian fiction is already so familiar to teens through popular novels such as The Hunger Games, The Maze Runner, and Shatter Me. The novel offered countless lessons: the metaphors were rich, it’s structured well and contains a diversity of sentence types, all of which made it interesting to read.
Orwell’s use of auditory imagery, specifically during the Two Minutes Hate (a daily ritual in which citizens are forced to express hatred for the Party’s enemies), revealed to us how writing can unsettle a reader on a visceral level — and taught us how to do the same.
1984 was timely. The totalitarian environment reflected what was happening in 2024 — from surveillance control to political spin. Through Orwell we discovered how impactful propaganda can be: ringing bells of war time propaganda, the Russian revolution, and other periods we knew about because of school and other forums. This sparked questions about life itself, such as the implications of totalitarianism and what it means for the future.
Orwell helped shape our perception of worldly events as well as taught us lessons about literature and what it can do.
1. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
Studied in Year 10
“Stay gold, Ponyboy, stay gold,” still echoes through my mind whenever I see a fiery sunset burn orange. That line — and the book it comes from — was hands down the most important novel I was taught at school. Not because it was easy. Not because it got me a good grade. But because it stuck.
Hinton framed the chaos of adolescence like the films Mid90s, Eighth Grade, and Normal People would later. The ongoing relevance of the ideas in The Outsiders shows that its lessons are impactful — they move beyond the time the novel was written.
I was 14 when I studied this novel – just old enough to begin questioning things like loyalty, family, class – but too young to know where to look for answers. That’s why this novel landed. Considering Hinton was 16 when she wrote it, I felt like she understood exactly how I was feeling. She wrote teenagers like they were real people, rather than just mere characters waiting to be analysed. The depth of each character added to the book’s literary strength and made them more relatable for our age group. Reading the novel felt like having someone articulate the inner workings of teenagehood.
While the plot of the novel hit hard, the quiet moments that Hinton described resonated too. Like the way Ponyboy describes sunsets, or his deep thoughts about poetry and loss. This novel showed me that vulnerability isn’t weakness, being sensitive doesn’t mean you’re soft, and being observant is a gift. The Outsiders showed us that real strength can come from empathy.
During Year 10, I thought I was far too complicated and far too alternative for others to relate to. But Ponyboy, the “greasers” and their utter disdain for the “socs” made me feel like I was part of something.
The main concept I took away from this book was: “Sometimes, you have to make poor decisions for the better outcome.” Those are words I pulled straight from the essay I wrote back then in Year 10. Consider Johnny’s decision to kill Bob – on the surface, this is entirely wrong, both morally and legally. But he makes this decision to protect Ponyboy. Their strong sense of companionship taught me that morality isn’t always black and white. It made me realise that sometimes, the hardest choices are the ones that teach us the most.
And that kind of insight? It lasts.
If books we study in school are meant to shape our thinking, then let them be books that challenge us, comfort us, and — like Ponyboy’s story — stay with us beyond the final bell.
