What do we do with dead white men?
Do we ignore them?
Do we pass by their gravesite at night?
Does it matter they are men?
Does it matter they are white?
What to do with male writers with a pinkish colour whose weary bones have been laid to rest?
In other words, do we keep on reading these writers who come from another age and place and gender?
This is a case presented by a lecturer form the United Kingdom (not dead yet) who taught in South Africa.
Read here thoughts here.