Reader, I despair: Jane Eyre as a board book?

After the glory yesterday of the ALA Youth Media Awards, in which we were reminded of all the quality that children's literature has to offer the world, it didn't take long to find a reminder that children's publishing at least really can be ridiculous. Last year I had a full-blown rant about plans to publish a series of board books based on great literary classics. Clearly my gnashing of teeth (and surely I wasn't the only one!) was not enough to put a stop to the plans; Little Miss Austen and Little Master Shakespeare have been joined by Little Master Carroll and Little Miss Bronte. Okay. Maybe....maybe....MAYBE....I could accept the idea of a board book version of Alice in Wonderland. In this case we are at least talking about a classic of children's literature. But a board book version of Jane Eyre? Really?! Here is the product description taken from the Baker and Taylor catalog I am currently staring at in amazement:

"Provides an introduction to a classic work of literature in a stylishly designed story for toddlers that also promotes early counting skills."

Do those early counting skills include Mr. Rochester counting his wives? How can a book with plot elements including bigamy, institutionalized child abuse, and locking the mentally ill in an attic EVER be considered suitable for toddlers? Even as an adaptation?! Clearly, it can't be. Which means that the board book really has no bearing on the original work and is not fit to carry the name "Jane Eyre". Stop the madness!

There are no words.

Why do adults read children's books?

You know, sometimes a hat is just a hat.

This recent article from The Independent references Cambridge University academic Dr. Louise Joy, who puts forth the theory that adults read childrens literature to escape the stress and demands of adult living; that they yearn for a simpler way of life, like you would find in a childrens book. Must be because being a kid is so easy, right? Her forthcoming book, Literature's Children, focuses on The Wind in the Willows, Winnie the Pooh, and the works of Tolkein, Carroll and Dahl. Uhm....21st century anyone? By that sampling I think it would be fair to surmise that adults must read childrens books out of a yearning for anytime before 1950.

I think I'll overthrow self-consciousness and have a straightforward relationship now

I'm pretty sure the millions of adults (and I don't have an exact figure on hand, so humor me on this one) who have read The Hunger Games are not hankering after anything in that book. This is my theory: grown-ups read kids book because (wait for it......) they are good! They are enjoyable. They make you think, whether it is about home cooked meals (which according to this article is a staple of The Hobbit, yet not really what I remember the book for) or the morality of twenty-six teenagers slugging it out to the death. The best childrens books do what the best adult books do--they touch readers. No age requirement--or justification--required.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a sucker is born every minute

I make it a general policy not to purposely offend readers. I even try to avoid implying that my opinion is correct and anyone who thinks otherwise is an out and out moron. But I have to confess that I am about to let loose with a full blown rant, and if you happen to disagree with me.......sorry, but I'm right.

Yesterday I read this article in Publisher's Weekly about a new series of board books that will "introduce to the youngest reader....." And let's stop right there. I hate that phrase, because to me, 'introducing to the youngest reader' really translates to 'selling to kids who aren't yet ready to read the real version of this book.' Plus, I am an admitted board book snob. I think babies should have their own books, written with their needs in mind. I don't like board book versions of established picture books, because I feel it is a disservice to both formats and a lazy way to make a buck. The board book version of The Snowy Day, for instance, irks greatly. So imagine how I feel about these:

You know, I could cope with the zombies. But this is an out and out abomination. Let's start with the titles: Little Miss Austen and Little Master Shakespeare. These authors aren't Muppet babies, you know, but the greatest writers in English literature. Show a little respect! There's interpretation, there's parody, there's watered down, and then there is out and out offensive. This begs the question "For the love of God, why?!" The creative director behind the series (and yes, there will be more) says, “We knew there was nothing like it available for the age group, and that the books would be a great introduction to perennial classics both for very small children and parents who might never have read the classics before.”

First of all, there is nothing like it for the age group because it's a stupid idea and unnecessary. Babies are not going to get a classic vibe from the books. There won't be some sort of subconscious love for masterpieces when they are older because they gnawed on the corner of Romeo and Juliet. Nor are they guaranteed a place at Harvard. Better for the parent to read the original out loud while the baby is in utero if that's the plan.

Secondly, the thought that the books might serve as an introduction to the parents is enough to make me throw my hands up in despair. Might as well let the alien invasion begin, because humanity is doomed.

Which leads me to my third gripe. This isn't about what the babies will like, unless there is a mirror attached to the back or a button to push. Let's be honest--babies could care less about Elizabeth and Darcy, and that double suicide at the end of Romeo and Juliet might be a bit much for "the youngest reader". This is about sucking parents into thinking they are doing something healthy and edifying for their babies. Of course reading to babies is healthy and edifying. So why should I care, if the babies don't? To each their own, right? But pre-sales have already passed expectations, and judging by the comments at the end of the article, people do think the books are absolutely adorable (even though I'm right and they are wrong.) Which means that I, as a librarian who likes to think of herself as open-minded and not (gulp!) judgemental, will have to buy these books. As a Janeite that galls me. As a librarian it challenges me. As a lover of the classics it makes me die a little bit inside.

To the babies, I have just this to say: accept no substitutes! Demand your concept books and save the classics for when you are old enough to appreciate them. And to the parents, this: don't kid yourself. You are not introducing your child to anything remotely resembling a masterpiece. All you are doing is perpetrating the delusion that anything can be made accessible to anyone with the right amount of tweaking and modification. It's a lie! Some things should be left as they are to be discovered when the time is right.

Choose Privacy Week--and don't forget the kids!

The American Library Association's Office of Intellectual Freedom has declared May 2-8 to be Choose Privacy Week. The focus of the week is to inform Americans about their rights to privacy in a digital age. Social networks Facebook and Google have recently been in the news because of privacy concerns, so this is certainly a good time to establish such a week and to make Americans aware of current and on going privacy issues.

It is also a good time to remember a demographic whose privacy is often a target for mass, while no doubt well-meaning, privacy rights infringement. I am referring, of course, to young readers. This recent article from School Library Journal's "Extra Helping" newsletter about a Florida mom who wants YA books to be labeled at her public library irritated me when I first read it, and continues to disturb me. Putting aside the issue of why some parents so greatly fear what their child might see between the pages of a book (makes me wonder if the same sort of vigilance is applied to the child's TV habits, wardrobe, and behaviour towards their peers,) there is the matter of parental monitoring of a child's reading habits. I'll be honest--I'm pretty liberal in this regard. I'll let my child read anything she wants. I cry tears of joy when I see her chose a book instead of the laptop or her DS. I take her to church to learn about our family's values. I give her a book so she'll learn to think for herself.

Children and teens have as much of a right to choose what they want to read for pleasure--or information--as any adult does. Labels on books cut away at that right. They are a simplistic code for "good" and "bad" that simply does not apply to everyone. Why should a young reader be scared away from a labeled book? Let the child decide if they are bothered by a book's content the way grown-ups do--start reading it. You can be sure that if the child doesn't like or understand the book, they'll put it down. But a label on a book's spine is a big ole target for shame and covert behaviour. If a child wants to read a book with a label, but think they might get in trouble, they have two options: don't pick up the book (therefore self-censoring themselves,) or borrow the book and read it secretly. No one should have to read in secret!

And don't get me started on the subject of parents who want access to their kids' borrowing records, to see what they are reading.

I realize that I have sort of wandered from the point in this post. But I would like adults to remember that while they consider ways to protect their privacy in a 24/7 digital age (and children should be learning these lessons too, by the way,) they need to also be aware of the privacy rights of the younger readers in our society. And the most important right for a free and learned society is this: the right to read anything without being judged.

My Favorite Rant: The Church Mouse

As I'm catching up on the pile of professional periodicals in my in-tray (a quicker task than it might sound, since I've already read half of each issue on-line,) I came across this article from Publisher's Weekly about the rising cache in Hollywood of picture books as vehicles for full-length motion pictures. Both Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and Where the Wild Things Are did well enough in 2009 to ensure that more picture books will find their way to the big screen. And as filmmakers try to strike the right balance between name recognition and adaptable storytelling, can I please put forward my hobby-horse, as it were, for consideration: Graham Oakley's The Church Mouse. I've written before about my complete and utter amazement that this book, and the corresponding series, has gone out of print. And although I'm not always a fan of film adaptations of beloved books, this is a situation where the exposure afforded by Hollywood might be just the thing this book needs to get it back in the public eye.

And for a filmmaker, what's not to love? It is a more sophisticated story than your average picture book aimed at the 4-8 age bracket, so there is no need to fluff it up for a 90 minute time-frame. There are loads of characters--perfect for attracting an A-list of celebrity voices--which eliminates the need of creating additional characters for the screen. The numerous sequels lend themselves to franchise building. The all-animal cast will appeal to everyone, as will the story of the Church Mouse and his friend, the cat Samson, who has listened to so many sermons about brotherly love that he cannot eat the mice living in the church. The hijinks! The bucolic English setting! The CGI possabilities abound! If there are any interns trawling the cybersphere for cinematic inspiration, look no further than The Church Mouse. And if there are any publishers thinking to bring back a classic, PLEASE bring these books back! I can't mend my copies any more than I already have, and the secondary market is prophibitive.

is this appropriate?

If I had a nickel for every time a parent asked me that question, book in hand. "Appropriate" is such a subjective term. Clearly what I think is appropriate for my own child to read (anything she wants) is not appropriate for others. But when an earnest, well-meaning parent asks me if a certain book is appropriate, how can I possibly know what words are acceptable--what scenarios, what characters, what thoughts? Librarians make judgement calls every day about books and where to place them in the collection or whether to buy them at all. But there is no Appropriate Ruler that librarians use to judge whether books are suitable for the varied patrons that cross our paths each day. We use common sense, professional assessment, and a healthy dose of "different strokes."

I had a patron this evening tell me that she has no time to read her own books because she is so busy keeping up with her daughter's reading, to make sure that everything she reads is "appropriate". Oh my goodness--what a pointless motivation. Of all the dangers there are in this world, a child reading an "inappropriate book" is really the least of them. Just let them read!

Cleanliness is next to Godliness. And evidently braininess too.

Okay, so perhaps I'm taking this a bit personally because I am not a tidy person by any stretch of the imagination. However, my husband is, and he's not a reader by any stretch of the imagination. So where does that leave this study, reported in School Library Journal about the link between early literacy and orderliness at home? My husband spends an inordinate amount of time cleaning our house (honestly, it's an obsession.) I spend a lot of time reading with our eight year old daughter (my obsession.) I refuse to accept that her early literacy skills, which were all age appropriate and heart-warming to this ole librarian, had anything to do with my husband's concern for straightened pillows and smooth duvet covers, even in a supplementary capacity. But clearly one of us is wasting our time.

I don't understand the drive behind studies like this one. It's like those articles that come out in Time and Newsweek every so often stating something insanely obvious such as, "Love makes you feel good". Wow. Did I need a ten page expose to tell me that? The secret to early literacy is books, books, books, and books, with a helping of books on the side. No need to reinvent the wheel. Sure, a quite room is a nice place to enjoy a book. Heck, even a quiet room that's tidy is a nice place to enjoy a book. But your child is not going to Harvard just because you kept an uncluttered house! Children from loud, noisy homes, find their own spaces for reading--their own quiet. There is something so clinical and contrived about studies like this, not to mention bogus, as if it's possible to pave the perfect path to send kids "along the road to learn" (to quote John Burningham.) But reading is a life-long work in progress that can't be boxed and presented as a set of ready made conditions. And well-intentioned as I'm sure this study is meant to be, all it's going to do is stress out parents (predominantly moms, I should think) who already feel that they are not adequately preparing their kids for life, and infuriate "professionals in the field" like myself.