Education Quote by Peter Bichsel

A quiet insult hides in Bichsel's phrasing: "secondary teacher" isn’t a demographic so much as a mindset. He’s skewering the dutiful, classroom-ready idea of literature where the writer stands at a safe distance, recording the world like a conscientious chaperone on a field trip. The target is a certain pedagogy of art: writing as neutral documentation, the author as a pair of reliable eyes, the prose as a window with no fingerprints on the glass.

Bichsel, a Swiss writer famed for spare, slyly destabilizing stories, treats that posture as both naive and moralistic. Naive because no sentence arrives unshaped by desire, fear, class, language, and the writer’s own myths. Moralistic because the “observer” pose often smuggles in authority: I merely report, therefore I cannot be blamed. It’s the rhetorical equivalent of “just asking questions,” an alibi masquerading as humility.

Calling it a “conception” matters. He’s not denying that writers look; he’s rejecting observation as the defining job description. Bichsel’s work suggests the writer is implicated: a participant in the social weather, a maker of frames, a disturber of what seems obvious. The line also reads as a jab at cultural gatekeeping, where literature gets reduced to teachable themes and tidy takeaways. The writer-as-observer model produces clean interpretations, but it sands down the mess that makes writing dangerous: the way it invents reality as much as it reflects it.