Paradoxical professor gives life to literature
By Robert H. Fraass
Editor’s Note: This story was written last
semester for a depth reporting class in the
College of Journalism.
Robert Knoll makes a sudden digression
that seems to derail his rapid-fire lecture on
William Shakespeare’s “Taming of the
Shrew.”
‘4 Why do we have lights at Christmas?” he
asks, his sunken brown eyes darting around the
classroom, seeking an explanation.
A woman in the second row finally answers.
It has to do with the Winter Solstice, she says.
The lights represent how the days are getting
longer. I -1
' Knoll switches
themes. Isn't it strange,
he notes, that Christians
celebrate death in the
spring, at Easter.
“We celebrate death
in the spring and fertility
and birth in the winter.
Isn’t that paradoxical?”
he asks, then smiles. It’s
a wide, enthusiastic.
boyish smile that makes Knoll
him lode younger than his 66 years.
Knoll changes gears again, doing what both
he and his students say he does best -- entwine
Shakespeare’s works with life today.
Today’s readers don’t understand the tradi
tions Shakespeare uses in “Taming of the
Shrew,” he tells his class, because they don’t
understand the origins. Traditions, like cele
brating birth in the winter, can be paradoxical.
“Life is a paradox,” Knoll is fond of say
ing.
Knoll, too, is a paradox.
After 38 years at the University of Ne
braska-Lincoln, Robert E. Knoll -- author,
English Renaissance and Shakespearian
scholar -- is probably one of the university’s
most-celebrated professors. He says he loves
his career. And he loves literature, history, his
students, Nebraska and ... who he is. He says
he knows his place in the scheme of things and
is happy. But, in turn, he realizes the shortcom
ings of the things he loves and ... of himself.
Knoll is quick to talk about his shortcom
ings, but his students and colleagues would
rather talk about his qualities as 3 professor and
as a man.
“The first thing you notice about him is he
is interested in just about everything,” says
Frederick Link, chairman of the UNI. English
department.
“And that interest, I think, especially for
someone who is a senior professor near retire
ment age ... for him to maintain the kind of
energy and enthusiasm and interest that one
usually associates with younger people is
remarkable.”
Once Knoll retires, he will be greatly
missal, Link says.
“We don’t replace people like that. You
just hire new people and hope that they, 20 or
30 years later, turn out to be like Robert
tx_11 * *
rviivsn.
Says English graduate student Steve Hardy:
“He’s not so much interested in literature, but
in what literature says about life. He has the
ability to touch people’s lives in some way and
that’s pretty neat.”
Student Eric Manley agrees.
“I’m gelling a lot more out of it (the
Shakespeare class) than I expected,” says the
business and computer science senior. “I just
can’t figure out why he’s here. I think it says a
lot for his character that he stays right here.”
Knoll cringes at the label “successful pro
fessor.” He prefers to say he is a “successful
teacher.” A successful professor excels in both
the classroom and in scholarly work, he says.
Knoll says he is not a great scholar.
During his career Knoll has written and
edited about 10 books on English literature. He
is glad he wrote them, he says, but they aren’t
very good.
“By the lime 1 was 45, 1 knew 1 was not
capable of writing a world-beating book,’’ he
says.
His biggest contribution, Knoll says, comes
in the classroom. Teaching, he says, is the top
priority for a professor. Everything else is
subordinate.
“Whatexercises him the most is the pursuit
of learning that ignores student,’’ says col
league and long-time friend Les Wlupp.
His intense love for teaching has been rec
ognized through the dozens of awards, honors
and fellowships he has received over the years.
He was named an NU distinguished teacher in
1968 and was voted “Outstanding Nebras
kan” by the campus newspaper in 1966.
But one of his greatest honors came last
October when he was named the Nebraska
Professor of the Year by the Council lor the
Advancement and Support ol Education
(CASE). Whipp says the award, in some ways,
was like “a gold watch’’ honoring the man lor
a career that will end alter the spring semester
in 1990.
Knoll says he was honored by the award but
tries to keep it in perspective. His attitude
vacillates between pride and self-effacement.
“Would I give myself the award?” Knoll
asks rhetorically. He pauses, reflecting before
he answers. “As a PR thing I think it was
probably a pretty good maneuver.”
Knoll says he won the CASE award because
better teachers are lesser known and because he
has enough clout and has had enough publicity
that the CASE people could justify giving it to
him.
Don’t take a statement like this as false
modesty, says Whipp.
‘ * It wouldn ’ t occur to Robert to be puffed up
about it (the award) so he doesn’t have to have
a false modesty about it,” Whipp says. “He
appreciates the honors. He accepts them. But
they don’t touch the core of the man.”
Knoll is a proud man, not an arrogant one,
says Link.
“He’s been given a lot of credit for things he
has done and he has deserved every bit of it,”
Link says. “But he has never tried to throw his
weight around or refused to pull his weight in
the little things as well as the big things.”
Knoll’s colleagues say he docs not seek
publicity, it comes to him. Knoll says such
Lr,ffl/*.i Kim
uiivuuvii i/uiiivj limit
‘‘I am bemused by it. Not amused, but
bemused. Do you know what the word ‘be
mused’ means?” he asks.
Knoll pulls a red Webster’s Dictionary from
a packed office bookshelf.
‘‘To confuse or stupefy. In deep thought,”
he reads.
Naturally, Knoll says, he is pleased with the
awards. Bui he wonders aloud if he could have
made the same contribution in another place,
another time, away from Nebraska.
Knoll says he doubts if he could.
His roots are in Nebraska, Knoll says, and
that’s why he has chosen to stay here. And
Knoll acknowledges a certain fear of teaching
elsewhere.
‘‘Iam not sure that what I do with some
success here I could bring off someplace else,”
Knoll says. ‘‘I know who my students are. I
know how to talk to these people.”
, 1 1H J , ' OV-...X-. XO X V
‘If I can’t show the rela
tionship between ‘Mac
Beth’ and the political
lives and the private
lives of today's politi
cians, I've let them
down.’
-Knoll
These skills might not transport well to
Stanford, Knoll says, or ‘‘even to San Jose
Teachers College.”
Knowing one’s limits. Knoll says, i impor
tant. And the award-winning teacher says he
knows where he stands in the scheme of things.
i ..— 1 ...—■
As a teacher, he says, he is somewhere between
‘ ‘a B-plus and an A-minus.’ ’ He wishes he had
been born smarter, with more patience, and
with the ability to achieve higher goals.
It’s important, he says, to know what you
can and cannot do with your talents. It is a
lesson he learned from his father, L.J. Knoll,
who, as a banker, failed to see his limits.
“He perpetually, consistently pul himself in
jobs and situations that were a little too hard for
him,” Knoll says. “It required more than he
had to give. And so he spent his life stretching.
And stretching is hard/’
'Do I seek things out in
order to keep from being
bored? Perhaps in part. ’
-Knoll
Knoll’s roots run deep,here in Nebraska and
at die university.
The second of three children, Knoll grew up
in Liberty Neb., before moving to Omaha in
1935. His father and mother both graduated
from NU in 1910.
Knoll received his undergraduate degree at
Nebraska in 1943. He received his master’s and
Ph.D. from the University of Minnesota.
The rest of Knoll’s family have similar
ties to NU.
Virginia, Knoll’s wife of 35 years, gradu
ated in 1953. His daughter Sarah graduated
from NU in 1981, and his son Benjamin gradu
ated fromNUin 1983. His sister and his brother
also graduated from NIJ Onlv Knoll's danoh.
ler Elizabeth went elsewhere. She graduated
from Washington University in 1978 and re
ceived her Ph.D. from the University of Chi
cago.
Most of the Knolls, including Robert,
graduated Phi Beta Kappa.
“Our lives arc bound up with this institu
tion,” Knoll says. “Have I had a good time
here? I’ve had a wonderful time. This univer
sity has been very, very good to me.”
Knoll shows similar devotion to Nebraska
and its people.
Knoll travels to Nebraska towns to instruct
high school teachers on literature and leaching.
He avidly studies Great Plains literature, one of
the many classes he has taught over the years,
and once chaired a national conference on
Nebraska author Willa Cather. Whipp says
Knoll is even responsible for encouraging the
planting of Nebraska’s native trees and grasses
on the Lincoln campus because he fell it would
give students a sense of home and security.
Knoll says he loves Nebraska because its
people arc kind and gentle and have learned to
live together happily.
Paradoxically, this gentle nature hurts Ne
braska, Knoll says.
“We (Nebraskans) do not play one-upman
ship,” he says. “We are very nice to each
other. Since we don’t play one-upmanship, we
do not always rise to the height we are capable
of achieving. We arc not competitive enough
... ......■!
Rotary names UNL professor
the Nebraskan of the Year
By Larry Peirce
Senior Reponcr
The downtown club of Rotary Interna*
tional named Robert Knoll, a University of
Nebiaska-Lincoln English professor, its
Nebraskan of the Year Tuesday afternoon at
the Comhusker Hotel.
Rotarian and UNL professor Erwin
GoJdenstein said Knoll has long been a
favorite among UNL faculty. In 1971, he
said, Nebraska Alumni Association asked
faculty members to name their favorite
professor.
Knoll was named most frequently, he
said.
Don Miller, a rotarian and UNL profes
sor of mathematics and statistics, said he
nominated Knoll for the award. As a mem
ber of a committee which reviewed nomina
tions for the college of arts and sciences
teaching awards, Miller read comments
about Kndl in letters of nomination.
“One thing that really struck me in the
letters was how much... Robert Knoll was
able to excite students of all ages, from
freshman to people in their retirement
years,” Miller said.
NU President Ronald Roskens spoke
briefly at the banquet,and said Knoll “is not
just an everyday professor.” Roskens said
Knoll's dedication to teaching has influ
enced “countless thousands.”
In his acceptance speech. Knoll spoke of
people and changes at UNL during the last
3U years. Knott came to inu in two. Alter
graduating, he returned to teach in 19S0,
and has been here since. In 1980, he was
named a George Holmes professor of Eng
lish, named for the man who gave money to
UNL for the position.
Knoll said it is more of a challenge to
teach at UNL than at Harvard, which has
more money, the most dedicated students,
the most pow erful friends and the longest
traditions.
‘ Teaching in a privileged place is shoot
ing fish in a barrel, one of my friends told me
last week,” Knoll said.
“But hcre-we have worked with less
money, more naive students, few powerful
friends, short traditions of excellence - and
we have brought learning, historically
available only to the few, to ail who think
they might profit from it.”
UNL has managed to keep many of its
classes small to better serve students, he
said.
“The students need and want a mix. a
variety of teaching styles,” he said. “They
deserve both seminars and lectures, not an
exclusive diet of either, for they need and
want both close individual attention and
considerable personal freedom. Diversity is
the key.
“Over the years my university has with
stood temptations to cave in u> vested inter
ests. We have asked the hard questions, and
been supported in our search tor answers.”
to force ourselves to our potential.”
This, in turn, has led to what Knoll terms the
“tyranny of the mediocrity.”
Today’s students, he says, need to aspire to
great things, bigger goals. People don’t set
goals high enough, Knoll says, because they
don’t have enough imagination and because
setting high goals is considered pretentious.
“The great trouble with this place is that we
love mediocrity,’ ’ Knoll complains.4 ‘(It’s) not
that mediocre is acceptable, but that the desire
to aspire to more than mediocre is looked upon
with a certain disfavor/’
Setting goals and exploring new possibili
ties and new challenges excite Knoll.
Knoll has written books, studied at Yale and
in England, held positions on several local and
national literature and teaching committees,
co-hosted a book show, and put together a 12
part series on Shakespeare for Nebraska Public
Television.
But his most ambitious project, Knoll says,
was his creation of the Centennial Program in
1969 - a program that received national atten
tion because it was designed to bring the class
room to the dormitories as a community-learn
ing project.
Knoll says this type of professional work
helps hijn stay interested and excited about his
carcci.
4 41 want lo find different types of jobs within
the range of my possibilities,” Knoll says. “I
find new avenues of exploration. And when I
discover one avenue is unprofitable, like origi
nal research, I try something else.”
4‘Do I seek things out in order to keep from
being bored? Perhaps, in part.”
Knoll has developed a sense of community
similar to the Renaissance Era, says Whipp.
The Renaissance, Whipp says, pul an emphasis
on ethical and community responsibility.
Knoll has embodied this philosophy, he says.
‘‘The thing that makes him different is that
he is what he teaches,” Whipp says. “He
believes literature is a way of seeing, and a way
of seeing is of a way of being. If it’s part of your
flesh, it comes out in every gesture in the
classroom.”
And it does.
Knoll integrates his fast-and-furious lecture
with continual questions to students, address
ing each as 44Mr.” or ‘‘Miss.”
Knoll says he tries to make two or three
points the students might have missed reading
,lhe literature. The idea, he says, is to get
students to say 44what I could have said.”
Knoll’s students say this sometimes frus
trates them.
4‘Sometimes they say I run the show almost
entirely. And I just smile to myself because,
you bet your life, I run the show,” Knoll says.
4 ‘If I didn’ t know more about this than they did,
what am I doing here?”
Knoll often chooses plays that reflect cur
rent events. Since 1988 was an election year,
his fall classes included works that have politi
cal overtones.
‘‘If I can’t show the relationship between
'MacBcth’ and the political lives and the pri
vate lives of today’s politicians, I’ve let them
down,” Knoll says.
The final goal of his classes, Knoll says, is to
use books and plays to show students how to
live their lives. Just as Renaissance literature
shaped Knoll’s view of his role in the commu
nity.
4‘I don’t expect these students to read
Shakespeare ever again. I don’t expect them to
even think about Shakespeare again,” Knoll
says. ‘‘Now, if Shakespeare has done his job
and I’ve done my job, they will know more
about life when they arc through even though
they may not know where they learned it.”
It’s this kind of thinking, say colleagues and
students, that sets Knoll above most teachers,
that earned him the prestigious CASE award.
And despite his protests, Knoll says he
appreciates the award ... or at least what it
represents.
Knoll connects the significance of the
award to the death of his favorite uncle, M.S.
McDuffy, a Norfolk lawyer. Knoll was in his
early 20s when his uncle died. After his death,
his aunt found a letter Knoll had written to his
uncle. Knoll wrote that what he wanted out of
life, was what his uncle had.
”... dozens, even hundreds of people came
to sec him, from as far away as Grand Island, lo
say farewell lo him in his death. He had, in
short, been a man of his place and his time,”
Knoll recalls.
‘‘And this prize I just got,” he said, ‘‘sug
gest that maybe I got what I was after.”
Epilogue:
' Why then Jo I remain in Nebraska*
W'here would I go"' What place us cleaner, kxnler,
more courteous, less vindictive?
W hy should / lea ve my home, which is the home of my father,
my grarulfathcr and my children?
What money and wNil intellectual ferment elsewhere
can balance out this sense of tune, this sense of place,
this community."
Fron. “Reflections” by Prof. Robert L. Knoll upon
receiving the 1968 University of Nebraska Foundation’s
Distinguished Teaching Award.