The Wall Street Journal--saving the world from YA

Last night, as Doctor Who spoilers and Bruins lamentations fought for control of my Twitterfeed, I started noticing a recurring hasthtag: #YAsaves. Someone--specifically, blogger and Youth Services Consultant Elizabeth Burns--was retweeting a vast amount of responses to an article which had appeared in the Wall Street Journal. The article was entitled "Darkness too Visible" and was followed by the following: "Contemporary fiction for teens is rife with explicit abuse, violence and depravity. Why is this considered a good idea?"

Silly me--for a moment I thought the article was going to explain why it was, in fact, a good idea. What the author wrote instead was damn near medieval in her disdain for and ignorance of what she considers to not just be a current trend in YA literature, but an agenda championed by librarians and book publishers to introduce teenagers to every grim reality this world has to offer--all in the name of freedom of expression and overriding parental controls. Yeah--that's why I went to library school.

There's a lot wrong with this article, and voices across the blogosphere are already starting to point that out. (And by the way, if you want to find any dissenting commentary about this article, stick to the blogosphere and Twitter, because as of this writing--which is 13.02 on Sunday the 5th of June--you won't see much disagreement in the comments of the original article, which is a stunning fact in itself.) I can't let this article pass unnoticed either, so I am going to comment on the anecdote which opens the article: the story of a woman who "popped into [Barnes and Noble] to pick up a welcome-home gift for her 13-year-old, who had been away. Hundreds of lurid and dramatic covers stood on the racks before her, and there was, she felt, "nothing, not a thing, that I could imagine giving my daughter. It was all vampires and suicide and self-mutilation, this dark, dark stuff." She left the store empty-handed."

My question is this: if she wanted a book recommendation, what was she doing at Barnes and Noble?

No offense to the many fine folks who work at B&N stores all over the world. There's one in the town where I work, and they do a great job of reaching out to the community and promoting literacy and making books and reading as fun as possible. But let's be honest--Barnes and Nobles is a big-box chain store. If this woman wanted to ask a knowledgeable professional for book recommendations, why didn't she go to her public library? At my library we have all the dark lurid stuff--because some people actually want to read those books for whatever reason that isn't mine or yours to judge--but we also provide alternate titles (because that's what libraries do.) And more importantly, any library worth its salt is going to have someone who can talk to the woman, determine what she is looking for, and steer her in that direction. One of the comments at the end of the article is by this particular woman herself, and she indicates that the staffer at B&N who was trying to help her didn't know anything about the books, and really was no help at all. Was she unlucky to have happened in on the one day that there was no one knowledgeable to help her? Again, no offense to Barnes and Noble, but the answer is--no. Because cashiers and book stockers at B&N are not librarians. They may be book enthusiasts, but are they professionals who can talk knowledgeably and reliably about a range of books even if they are not in their particular department? Probably not--because they are not librarians. They have not made it their business--their vocation!--to be able to recommend titles to any person on any given day who wants any type of book. That's what you get from a good librarian, and it is probably the most under recognized and under appreciated facet of my job by anyone who assumes that a library is just a building to store books.

It seems to me that publishers follow trends as much as they dictate them, so if any given Barnes and Noble is full with only a certain type of book, there's a reason for that--it's a popular type of book. Yet another reason to visit the library, where many different types of books are available for many different types of reasons and readers. I wish the author of this article had focused on that. But I think she had her own bone to pick. Evidently, instead of being helpful, librarians--by sheer virtue of their association with the big bad American Library Association which comes in for a lambasting as well--are, like publishers, trying to "use the vehicle of fundamental free-expression principles to try to bulldoze coarseness or misery into their children's lives." I don't know. Yesterday it looked like The Wall Street Journal, with their strident article, written by their regular children's book reviewer, was the one driving the bulldozer.

Tintin in the Congo causing trouble again

The National Coalition Against Censorship blogs today about the decision by the Brooklyn Public Library to remove Tintin in the Congo from its circulating collection. They will still keep the book, but it will now be housed in a special collection. This is basically the age-old compromise for librarians when faced with material of a "difficult" (i.e. controversial) nature: make the book available, just make it difficult to find. Although most librarians probably consider themselves as protectors of intellectual freedom (I know I do) and like to think that they would fight to the death to allow readers access to a book--any book!--(fortunately I've not yet been asked to do so,) it is probably fair to say that most librarians also choose their battles. Books like To Kill a Mockingbird, The Diary of Anne Frank, even the Harry Potter books, have cache, and it is easy to imagine most librarians standing up for these classics. But Tintin in the Congo has had a hard time finding defenders. I blogged about this issue in 2007 when Little Brown made the decision not to republish the book in the United States, despite the fact that the entire Tintin collection was at the time being reissued as a box set. And not having read the book myself (how can I? It is not easy to locate in this country,) I cannot comment on its historical or literary value. In the case of Tintin the Congo, I now have the feeling of collusion between publishers and libraries who have effectively between them made this book unavailable to anyone, buyers or borrowers. That is neither honest nor good.

Michael Rosen--he's no twit

British children's writer Michael Rosen weighs in on the Jacqueline Wilson naughty word controversy.

WTF? Dame Wilson can't swear

Or at least her characters aren't allowed to. The BBC reports that the second printing of Dame Jacqueline Wilson's latest novel, My Sister Jodie, will be reprinted after the publisher, Random House, received three complaints and a message from ASDA supermarket mega-chain (which happens to be owned by WalMart,) that they will not sell editions of the book with the offending word. This is an issue that many authors have had to contend with (remember the scrotum brouhaha?) and frankly it's tiresome. Authors never do anything by accident, and if a character uses vulgar language, it's probably because they are, well, vulgar, and the author would like to make that clear. I am by no means an advocate for naughty language in children's books, and whenever I review a book in which swears or other profanities are included, I mention the fact--particularly if they seem unnecessary. That's just me doing my job for librarians and media specialists who are reading the reviews and wondering if the books are suitable for their collections. But I have never said, "Don't buy this book--there's swearing!" Nor would I ever assume that I was doing the world a favor by demanding the withdrawal or reprinting of a book which had language I objected to. If I discovered that my daughter read a book with bad words, that I thought were inappropriate for her, I would use it as a platform to discuss with her why profanity is not for us. Chances are my daughter will someday read a book with bad language and I'll never know about it because she'll have the sense not to tell me or use the language herself. And I'm fine with that, because it shows that she can deal with media that is less than savory without being fundamentally altered as a person.

What a pity that Ms. Wilson--a Dame, no less--felt the need to capitulate. She needs backbone lessons from Judy Blume. I will be interested to see how the book is released here. And considering the British-specificness of the vulgar word in question, would an America audience notice it anyway?

Rating Books--what qualifies as an R?

A recent article in the Guardian details proposals for age ranges to be placed on the covers of children's books published in the UK. I'm being facetious by suggesting that books may someday be rated like films (although I'd believe just about anything.) But I find the idea of age ranges condescending and irritating. Must everything in life be labeled and pigeonholed? Labels provide a false sense of security (not unlike filters on computers) and a false impression of legitimacy. For example: I have now worked in two towns with a teacher who assigns a second grade biography project, and the only criteria is that the kids must use a book that is at least 100 pages long. Do you know how many biographies are written for second graders that are at least 100 pages long? I'll tell you--hardly any. All that assignment leads to is children working their way through the biography section, pulling books off the shelf, until they find one that is 100 pages long. There is no joy in the learning process, because the books that are interesting to the second graders are inevitably less than 100 pages long.

Yuck.

Admitedly, manga in the US is labelled. I've always viewed that as a concession made to Western readers who are simply confused by the genre and think it's all porn. I doubt if faithful, voracious manga readers pay any attention to the ratings. But how many children will be turned away by great reads becuase they feel they are (1) too old for said book, or (2) too young? I know that the label "Children's Room" is the kiss of death for kids who feel they are no longer children and as a consequnce never darken my door and miss out on lots of books they'd enjoy. So I can envision second graders (or any graders) being told to read a book that is "age appropriate" and going down the shelves until they find one with the magic age range printed on the front. It doesn't take much of a stretch to imagine labels turning children away from books, too. I can just imagine a precocious seven year old eyeing James and the Giant Peach (8-12) and being persuaded by a responsible grown-up who is at the mercy of labels to choose The Magic Treehouse instead (5-7.) Not much of a deal, really.

So it's not just me--Keeping Narnia in order

One of the trickiest questions I often get at work is, "Which is the first Narnia book?" It's a tricky question because there is a correct answer--The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe--but it is being undermined by the insistence in recent years of publishing them in chronological order within the narrative, rather than as originally released; hence, starting with The Magician's Nephew, whose action predates that in "Lion", Prince Caspian, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, The Silver Chair, and The Horse and his Boy. I'm not sure who came up with this idea--I have even seen it floated somewhere that it was Lewis' wish to re release them so. But in this age of prequels, alternate endings, and companion volumes, I find it difficult to believe that today's savvy young readers would be confused by reading a history of Narnia's inception after they have already read the previous five books. So, when some poor, unsuspecting soul asks me which is the first Narnia book, I give them the spiel about the debate.....and then hand them whichever of the two is actually on the shelf (mustn't send them away empty handed.) The release of "Lion" in the theatre has helped to reassert it's position as the lead-off title. And now, The Horn Book, the children's literature Bible, has taken its stance on the issue. How nice to be right ^_^

Of course, the second part of this issue is: "What?! You mean you don't intrinsically know all of the Narnia books by heart? They're not etched on your soul?!" That incites the same feeling of being flabbergasted as when someone asks me for a recommendation for a 2nd-4th grader, and they answer the statement, "Well, I'll assume you have already read Charlotte's Web," with, "No."

How is that possible?!

Harry Potter Causing Trouble Again

Has there ever been a book responsible for so many lawsuits?! If the book isn't being banned or causing some sort of copyright ruckus, now it is supposedly getting people suspended. Weird. I wonder how many copies of the books have been sold through controversy alone.