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From
the September/October 2004 issue of The Horn Book Magazine Letters to the Editor I read with anticipation the opening to Perry Nodelman’s “Reading Across the Border,” (May/June 2004) thinking he would expand on just why so much of children’s literature is “same-old, same-old.” Instead, he describes three ways of reading a children’s book: as a disengaged expert; as adult-as-child; and as an adult simply looking for a good book. He concludes that the best way to read a children’s book is to appreciate it within the context of its literary tradition. We should “be wary of our boredom,” he says, because children themselves are new to reading and not yet jaded by the conventions. But I think our malaise should be attended to. I am particularly concerned with the novel, which is suffering from what I call The Formula: Put your main character in a pot of hot water. Turn up the heat. Turn it up some more. Put the lid on. Let her fight her way out. One sees the pattern in book after book. It is the story most editors look for and most writers write: a child in the throes of coping. A perfect example is Gary Paulsen’s Hatchet, which Nodelman mentions. Yet look at the book Nodelman recommends as a classic, Charlotte’s Web. Interestingly, E. B. White doesn’t follow The Formula. Fern, halfway through the book, becomes more interested in Henry Fussy, and Charlotte the spider takes center stage. Imagine, though, that White had followed The Formula. Fern would have devised some clever measure to save Wilbur, perhaps making him a “poster pig” for the county, enlisting her 4-H club and the local farmers’ alliance when the going got rough. And we’d have no Charlotte. But White came to children’s literature as an outsider, and his editor, Ursula Nordstrom, would never have insisted that he follow a formula. He did note, however, that “it seemed as though there were rules governing the writing of juvenile literature, rules as inflexible as the rules for lawn tennis.” So I was delighted that Tim Wynne-Jones,
in his “Tigers and Poodles and Birds, Oh My!” discussed
the assumptions writers of children’s books must adhere to:
that children’s attention spans are only twenty minutes; that
they cannot abide digressions; that they have a limited vocabulary;
that there can be only one point of view; that children are bored
with adult characters. All of which, as Wynne-Jones points out,
is bunk. Children are hungry for books that ignore those assumptions,
provided the writer is first-rate. Sandra Dutton
In “Reading Across the Border” (May/June 2004) Perry Nodelman claims that “children’s literature is and always has been a literature of the same-old.” In doing so, he lumps all books for children together. But picture books are different. They are more closely related to the art world and can best be valued when perceived as visual as well as literary objects. The last century has flooded children’s waking hours with images of all kinds: advertising, comic books, TV, film, games, book illustrations, even “fine art.” Simultaneously, technology has revolutionized the printing process so that the limitations of yesterday’s hand-produced color separations have been replaced by the almost infinite possibilities of computer-generated “special effects.” For those of us who have been reviewing (and collecting) picture books for half a century, there is no global “same-old” because book artists have been constantly feeding on fresh visual experiences. Unlike writers, who may be bound by ancient story plots, picture book illustrators and designers are free to roam the visual universe, to tap yesterday’s masterpieces or the ingenuity of today’s technology. We can enjoy the detailed elegance of a Spirin fairy tale or the explosive daring of Wiesner’s Three Little Pigs. I suggest that Nodelman recognize the picture book’s habitus and then make efforts to expand his current comments. Kenneth Marantz
I’m bursting with enthusiasm and admiration for your Borderlands issue (May/June 2004). Having been a school librarian, I remain aware of the “age appropriate” guidelines that hover over selection of materials for children. But I’ve always been aware of young readers, the avid ones, who somehow find their own books without the aid of librarians or teachers — coming by way of a friend’s tip, a random search of library fiction, or just happening onto something. Unsupervised ventures of my own into the Borderlands were brought to mind. Our Hearts Were Young and Gay by Cornelia Otis Skinner and Emily Kimbrough was a book my parents had in the house when I was perhaps in the sixth grade. Comic drawings on the cover beckoned. But the urbane humor was beyond my level of sophistication, and instead of enjoying the self-mocking hilarity of the pair’s misadventures in Europe, I worried. A completely different reading plucked from the sofa one day after school when I was fourteen: John Hersey’s Hiroshima. In one obsessed reading I took in the horrifying experience of six Japanese people on August 6, 1945. In April of this year I visited a Japanese friend in her homeland and with her made the long train trip to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum: a pilgrimage impelled by my youthful Borderlands reading. I devoured every article in this outstanding issue. I especially liked Christine Heppermann’s perceptive “Cutting the Cheese” and Betty Carter’s “Grownup Reading.” I have purchased but not yet read Life of Pi; now I will dive into it and seek out the other two “crossover books” discussed by Tim Wynne-Jones. Coming home from Japan where I discovered manga, I was wowed by Julia Michaels’s impressive expertise about that comic book form. My friend’s son collected gymnastics manga; I never learned the content of the manga read by Japanese businessmen on the train. Sue Monk Kidd’s Secret Life of Bees is my nomination for a novel published for adults that would richly reward readers ages twelve through eighteen. Fourteen-year-old Lily, the first-person narrator, is unforgettable, as are the beekeeping sisters. Revelations about love, about home, about “the puzzle of the human heart” abound. Definitely a read for explorers of the Borderland. Joyce Robertson
Overall, Julia Michaels’s “Pulp Fiction” (May/June 2004) is a very good introduction to graphic novels. I would point out though, that, when Ms. Michaels refers to Stan Sakai’s Usagi Yojimbo as manga that is “straight-up kids’ fare,” she is mistaken on two points. Manga are Japanese comics, which, while varied, all use a certain set of artistic techniques. Usagi Yojimbo is not Japanese (Stan Sakai is American), and his comic does not use the techniques of manga. Usagi Yojimbo is not necessarily kids’ fare, either. The cute animal characters do certainly have kid appeal, but many of the themes and elements are more readily understood by a young adult or adult audience. Sakai explores the culture and folklore of medieval Japan and presents his hero, Usagi, with some serious ethical dilemmas. I’m pleased that Ms. Michaels mentioned Usagi Yojimbo, but this award-winning series isn’t really in the same category as Dragonball Z. Eric Norton |
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