I originally wrote this for Lars's Library on The Reading Clinic's site this fall. I can't stop thinking about this trend in kidlit and now have started what I call my 'Dystopia Project.' Maybe more accurately, continued that project with a name. And, as is my wont, a list. Currently, I just finished rereading Nineteen Eighty-Four and am almost finished with Walter Tevis's Mockingbird. Next up is the bestselling Young Adult novel, The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins.
There's definitely a trend in children's literature toward darker subject matter and post-apocalyptic futures. This summer, Newsweek used the recent popularity of Jeanne DuPrau's exciting Books of Ember series as a jumping off point for a discussion of this trend. In 'Scary New World' , The New York Times examines some recent examples.
Instead of viewing this type of literature with alarm, we should see its value as a transitional step. Reading novels about a troubled future pushes children toward the more abstract and critical thinking they will be doing in high school and as adults.
Fiction for younger children is usually anchored to straight-forward narrative that offers lessons and models behavior. As readers grow older, story content changes. Instead of clear resolution, the reader faces endings that are sometimes ambiguous and ambivalent. Authors use irony, satire and analogy to give readers fuller and richer meaning. Because characters' motivations are implied, readers have to infer far more.
This change in literature reflects our development. When we are young, we look for concrete reasons to help us understand. As we age, we begin to think in more challenging and abstract ways. At The Reading Clinic, we see how hard this is for children who already have difficulty with comprehension. We help them to take ownership of language by visualizing stories-making movies in their brains. If this is already an effort with concrete literature, imagine how much harder it is when stories require abstraction.
A staple of freshman and sophomore high school literature courses is Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. Dystopian works like Brave New World and Nineteen Eighty-Four require us to think about why government created with the best of intentions can result in the cruelest of societies, and how our own culture operates under a set of assumptions that can be harmful. Avoiding direct judgment of authority, they prompt us to question it and understand its dangers.
These are truly abstract concepts. I remember a girl who was handling Shakespeare, but who broke down when faced with assignments that asked her to analyze Brave New World and determine Huxley's purpose and point of view.
One way to prepare children for this jump in literary sophistication is to have them read and discuss dystopian literature in middle school. Teachers often assign books like The Giver by Lois Lowry, A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'engle, and The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. I encourage parents to read them, too. When they are not assigned, I encourage children and parents to read them anyway.
The adventure, young heroes, and hopeful endings of these novels, not to mention the great writing, involve young readers. Once these books hook the middle-school reader, the picture they paint of a less-than-perfect future gives students a way to begin practicing more nuanced reflection. Discussing such novels with their peers and caring adults will help them acquire and polish the higher order thinking skills they will need as they progress through school.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
LARS'S LIBRARY: NEIL GAIMAN WINS THE NEWBERY
If you follow children's literature, you might already know about the brouhaha stirred up over the most prestigious of the awards for children's literature--the Newbery--by Anita Silvey's critique of their relevance in the October School Library Journal.
Following right on top of that, a study by Brigham Young University concluded Newbery award winners were likely to depict white, male, two-parent children, a picture not reflective of the average American kid.
While the protagonist of this year's winner, Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, is a white male, he has no parents soon after the novel begins. Nobody Owens is an orphan brought up by the dead, in a narrative that parallels The Jungle Book.
It might appear that the Newbery committee caved to the relevance issue raised by Silvey. It's indisputable that Gaiman appeals to a broad audience. The Graveyard Book has been on the New York Times bestseller list since its publication in the fall. His popular Coraline, its shelf life already extended with a graphic novel edition, is about to be released as an animated film.
But that theory would ignore the fact that The Graveyard Book is a fantastic novel. It is darkly cheerful, if such a thing is possible, and intellectually stimulating. After reading it, I'll never hear the term "danse macabre" in the same way again.
I would defend the Newbery winners I know. While there have been years where I might have chosen another book, each one of the over fifty I have read has engaged me, and has helped me in recommending books to children (even books that weren't winners).
That's what an award like this should do: recognize engaging, stimulating work, whether popular or not, to help guide children and people who care about children. You're never going to be able to confidently steer a child toward a book choice without reading the books yourself. Even then, you can't be totally successful. We all have different tastes and interests.
Of the four recent winners that Silvey says librarians call "particularly disappointing," I've only read Susan Patron's The Higher Power of Lucky. I loved it, and know that someday I'll find a kid who will, too. That makes me believe the other three are worth a look.
I would agree that the Newbery committee might be more aware of the diverse, multicultural America we live in. Sherman Alexie notes, “We...have a black president -- literature should catch up.” Of course, Alexie's wonderful The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian did win the National Book Award for Young People's Literature, another excellent award that can guide you toward excellent children's books, in 2007.
Following right on top of that, a study by Brigham Young University concluded Newbery award winners were likely to depict white, male, two-parent children, a picture not reflective of the average American kid.
While the protagonist of this year's winner, Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, is a white male, he has no parents soon after the novel begins. Nobody Owens is an orphan brought up by the dead, in a narrative that parallels The Jungle Book.
It might appear that the Newbery committee caved to the relevance issue raised by Silvey. It's indisputable that Gaiman appeals to a broad audience. The Graveyard Book has been on the New York Times bestseller list since its publication in the fall. His popular Coraline, its shelf life already extended with a graphic novel edition, is about to be released as an animated film.
But that theory would ignore the fact that The Graveyard Book is a fantastic novel. It is darkly cheerful, if such a thing is possible, and intellectually stimulating. After reading it, I'll never hear the term "danse macabre" in the same way again.
I would defend the Newbery winners I know. While there have been years where I might have chosen another book, each one of the over fifty I have read has engaged me, and has helped me in recommending books to children (even books that weren't winners).
That's what an award like this should do: recognize engaging, stimulating work, whether popular or not, to help guide children and people who care about children. You're never going to be able to confidently steer a child toward a book choice without reading the books yourself. Even then, you can't be totally successful. We all have different tastes and interests.
Of the four recent winners that Silvey says librarians call "particularly disappointing," I've only read Susan Patron's The Higher Power of Lucky. I loved it, and know that someday I'll find a kid who will, too. That makes me believe the other three are worth a look.
I would agree that the Newbery committee might be more aware of the diverse, multicultural America we live in. Sherman Alexie notes, “We...have a black president -- literature should catch up.” Of course, Alexie's wonderful The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian did win the National Book Award for Young People's Literature, another excellent award that can guide you toward excellent children's books, in 2007.
Friday, January 23, 2009
RECENT NEWS: OLD STYLE BOOK READING MAY BE BETTER
A fascinating story in Science Daily in December summarizes the findings of a professor from the Center for Reading Research at the University of Stavanger in Norway. Anne Mangen feels that educators should take a closer look at digital teaching aids, and their effect on cognition, memory, and attention. "Learning requires time and mental exertion and the new media do not provide for that," she says. Reading from a book, on the other hand, gives the reader more opportunity for reflection. Mangen calls for a "more nuanced view on the potentials and limitations of all technologies – even of the book" and warns against "a tendency to reduce a complex field to a question about being for or against."
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
CHILDREN'S BOOKS: WILLIAM PÈNE DU BOIS, THE GIANT
William Pène du Bois is not totally unknown these days. But the winner of the Newbery in 1948 (for The Twenty-One Balloons) is pretty much forgotten, which is a shame. After reading The Giant and The Twenty-One Balloons, I'm hungry for more, but find that nearly his entire catalog is out-of-print.
Pène du Bois writes in the sort of sophisticated style which is delightful for children because it is immediately accessible, and very funny, without an ounce of condescension--the sort of style you might associate with classic authors like P.L. Travers or J.M. Barie, or in more recent times, E.B. White and Roald Dahl.
The Giant is the improbable tale of an eight-year-old boy who grows a little too fast--he is seven stories tall. Because of this unusual circumstance, his parents give him over to a protective organization that keeps him hidden away for his own and others' safety.
But more than playing into the archetypal narrative of the child who doesn't fit in, The Giant gives its narrator a chance to dive into his own quirky and comic ideas and observations. This is a novel where a character exists mainly as an opportunity to describe his automobile and wardrobe. It's hilarious, and an excellent choice for an adult and a child to enjoy together.
Pène du Bois writes in the sort of sophisticated style which is delightful for children because it is immediately accessible, and very funny, without an ounce of condescension--the sort of style you might associate with classic authors like P.L. Travers or J.M. Barie, or in more recent times, E.B. White and Roald Dahl.
The Giant is the improbable tale of an eight-year-old boy who grows a little too fast--he is seven stories tall. Because of this unusual circumstance, his parents give him over to a protective organization that keeps him hidden away for his own and others' safety.
But more than playing into the archetypal narrative of the child who doesn't fit in, The Giant gives its narrator a chance to dive into his own quirky and comic ideas and observations. This is a novel where a character exists mainly as an opportunity to describe his automobile and wardrobe. It's hilarious, and an excellent choice for an adult and a child to enjoy together.
RECENT NEWS: BASICS FOR PRE-SCHOOLERS?
The National Early Literacy Panel's review of early-reading research, covered in Education Weekly, gives credence to a sometimes controversial theory: emphasizing basic alphabetic skills with pre-schoolers helps develop readers. Critics worry that educators may use the study as a justification for overloading small children with structured lessons to develop those basic skills.
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