“Only in children’s literature now is the story taken seriously”

In our current study Block, we are enjoying some classic 20th century children’s stories. Has children’s literature kept faith with readers’ pleasure in storytelling,  in a way that literary novels have failed to?

The  quotation in this post’s title is attributed to Philip Pullman. I’ve not found the original context but it’s quoted in a full-length interview with Pullman here. (Pullman also has many other things to say, including comments about his distate for fantasy yet how he found it useful for Northern Lights; and discussion of words and pictures which may relate to our upcoming studies in Block 5).

This is I think a swipe at  literary novels which adopt experimental approaches.  In contrast, there are ‘crossover’ children’s books like Pullman’s, not to mention Rowling’s, which have been hugely popular with adults.  So is story telling only truly alive  in  children’s books?

Today’s Guardian mentions some of the older ‘golden age’ stories for children we are encountering on our course.  They arose in the late nineteenth – early twentieth centuries and have been taken up enthusiastically by film makers:

This was the age that threw up Treasure Island, The Jungle Book, Peter Pan, The Wind in the Willows, The Railway Children, the Jeeves and Wooster series and finally, in the 1920s, the queen of crime herself, Agatha Christie, and her Poirot and Miss Marple series.

Every one of these has been rendered cinematically for a mass audience on several occasions. We like stories, and especially when they are accompanied by appealing, strong and identifiable characters who can be interpreted by stars.

So are the storytellers  working for film and TV now? Hmm – critics of Avatar find its plotting sadly lacking.

But perhaps the tide has turned, and novels for adults are rediscovering story:

All of this is changing. The revolution is under way. The novel is getting entertaining again. Writers like Michael Chabon, Jonathan Lethem, Donna Tartt, Kelly Link, Audrey Niffenegger, Richard Price, Kate Atkinson, Neil Gaiman, and Susanna Clarke, to name just a few, are busily grafting the sophisticated, intensely aware literary language of Modernism onto the sturdy narrative roots of genre fiction: fantasy, science fiction, detective fiction, romance.

This idea that children’s literature keeps genres in safe keeping, can indeed be in the van of development, is one that is in our course. A free virtual coffee to anyone who can pin that down to an article in one of our Readers.

Choose your family

Here’s a thought-experiment about ideas of childhood and growing up. If you found yourself wandering lost among children’s literature, orphaned and alone, which literary family would you choose?

Do we all want to be Weasleys? Freedom to be yourself, unconditional love, excitement and fun, with the prospect of growing up into a responsible adult with decent values.

I don’t want to stay with Peter Pan – there’s no growth (though I kind of like the idea of no weight…)  Wendy’s childhood is playful but she has to cope with a lot of nonsense from John about boys being better. I really don’t want to camp out with the Swallows or the Amazons – my imagination wouldn’t take me past the discomforts (yes, I’m a duffer); couldn’t abide Tom and his brother Peter as siblings or their stifling ordinariness (too much like my own); Cassie’s family have it tough and  Mama and Papa dole out punishment too.  Lyra’s guardians allow her an enchanting freedom but she doesn’t seem to be much cared for…

Literature for children or for adults?

In Block 1 week 2 of our course, students are asked to think about what defines or characterises children’s literature.

Co-incidentally,  a book has been submitted for a children’s book prize that is also raising this issue. The National Book Foundation (’60 Years of Honoring Great American Books’) 2009 shortlist is here.  Here’s a summary of  discussion (controversy seems too strong a word) from a US blog:

Since these finalists were announced yesterday, people have been wondering how STITCHES — conceived of and published as a book for adults — ended up in this category. Is it because David Small is best known as a creator of children’s books? Because the “graphic novel” style resembles a book for young readers rather than adults? Because this autobiography mostly concerns Small’s childhood and teenage years? From what I’ve read on the net today, STITCHES was nominated for the youth award because that’s the category in which Norton, the book’s publisher, submitted it. That’s funny…they published it as an adult book.

None of these reasons seem particularly relevant, do they? But, for us, a very relevant conundrum!

Death, jollity, and offal

I’ve been enjoying (re)discovering some little aspects of our set books.  Like Katherine, who commented on my last posting, I wonder how I’ll feel about some of these  ‘old friends’  by the end of this course.

But I would admit that for my part I’m not always the most mindful friend – as an avid but sometimes over-speedy reader I can miss, and certainly forget, a lot. It’s been a delight to notice more details on a re-reading.

It was a comment by Peter Hunt ( “there is even a death joke on the second page” , in our course reader) that sent me back to The Tale of Peter Rabbit. Then I noticed that we have an edition which highlights this ‘joke’ because it gives it an extra page all of its own, with a picture I’d never seen before. (A slightly disappointing one, I think – Potter’s people often aren’t as entrancing, to my eyes, as her other drawings.)

Surely I’d noticed before that Peter has a blue coat, while his more compliant siblings have the red ones of  ‘good little bunnies’? But I’ve only just noticed that the red coats are sensibly taken off  (p17)  for blackberrying.

I’d forgotten the obvious (child-focused?) humour of Harry Potter.  Dumbledore says “a few words” at the start of the new school year, and they are literally a few words: “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” (p92).

And in comparison with the magical feasts at Hogwarts, Lyra (the accomplished Liar) in Northern Lights relishes calves’ liver, sweetbreads,  rank dried reindeer meat and steaming raw kidney.

Are there any little details that strike you afresh?