I had a different post in mind for today, but want instead to respond to Katherine Langrish and Barbara Mitchelhill's posts a few days ago about bleakness and violence in children's books. It's a subject I have strong feelings about.What I have always loved about children's books, is the comparative safety and comfort they offer. Terrible things can happen, there can be danger, unhappiness and darkness. But you know for sure that things will somehow end up all right. Perhaps not for all the characters, and perhaps not a completely happy ending. But there will be light and comfort and a resolution of some kind. This is no longer the case.
I know real life isn't like this. None better. Perhaps that's why I crave this in fiction. Young people are going to be exposed to reality sooner or later - some will be confronted with loss and pain very young indeed. It's not about pretending the world is all wonderful when it isn't. It's not about lying to children to protect them. It's about fiction finding hope even in these bleak situations. When it doesn't, I wonder what the point of it is? What kind of message are we asking children to take away with them?
It bothers me that there seems to be a fashion and atmosphere of pushing at boundaries and taboos in children's fiction - to see just how grim writers can get away with being and still being published. And the shock factor is often endorsed with prize listings, which raises these books above more positive ones as though they are more imprtant and meaningful.
But are they? Is it not a greater message to a young person to help them find the positive or seek towards resolutions than to sink into a pit of despair? I believe that it is. Especially when you consider that British children are so often ranked as 'the unhappiest in Europe' or have 'the lowest self-esteem in the developed world' etc etc in the surveys the media loves so much.
The trend is only reflecting the one in adult fiction/television of course - there it is also towards the more violent and shocking too. I notice it because I rarely see television (I don't have it) and on the occasions I do, I'm horrified by the graphic nature of the modern crime series. They weren't like that years ago. They didn't show horrifically mutilated bodies or linger on scenes of agony and terror in death.
And as we expose ourselves more, there's also a culture against protecting children. If you choose to enforce film certificates in your home, you are far more likely to be laughed to scorn by friends and acquaintances than praised for obeying the law or protecting your children. The implication is there's something wrong with you.
I have learned over the past few years that books I would hesitate to give to children because of the appalling images they've left in my own mind, sometimes don't bother children nearly as much as they bother me. A child living a secure childhood may enjoy vicariously experiencing grim scenarios, abuse, neglect and even death. It doesn't upset them as much as an adult who's been through it in real life and has a fuller knowledge of the distress involved, or who reads the book as a parent, imagining his or her own child in the situations.
Nonetheless, the trend concerns me. Childhood is short, it's unspeakably precious and it never comes back. The security you get as a child stays with you throughout your adult years. A child who is protected and happy, who feels secure, is less likely to suffer from depression, anxiety and low self-esteem as an adult.
Nonetheless, the trend concerns me. Childhood is short, it's unspeakably precious and it never comes back. The security you get as a child stays with you throughout your adult years. A child who is protected and happy, who feels secure, is less likely to suffer from depression, anxiety and low self-esteem as an adult.
You have the rest of your life to see the bleakness, the misery and the lack of hope - if that is your lot in life, or if that is where you choose to focus. Because it is partly a choice. Sometimes life can throw dreadful things at you. But it can be how you deal with them. And that's what fiction can offer us above all.
For example: you can look at a scene in the park and choose to admire the beautiful autumn colours, the rich green grass or the children playing happily on the swings. Or you can spend your time in the park focusing on the dead squirrel under one of the trees and dwell at length on much it must have suffered before it died. Is that deeper or more meaningful than the beauty? I don't think that it is. Let's make sure we don't forget to teach children to see and value the beauty.
I have said this elsewhere but it bears repeating. There was a child I met in our local library. I did not know her. She did not know me. She just looked up at me and said, "I'm sick of AIDS and death and divorce. I just want a good adventure story." I know our library still has a focus on the former rather than the latter. There is a view that "if they are going to waste their time reading they might as well read something they should know about". It all smacks of didactic Victoriana.
ReplyDeleteJust as you need a varied diet of food you need a varied diet of books.
This is a wonderfully presented argument, Marie-Louise, and very inspiring.
ReplyDeleteI have become desensitised over the years by watching excellent but ultra-violent TV shows like The Sopranos and Breaking Bad. And I plead guilty to pushing some boundaries and taboos. (At the moment I'm trying to tone down a book deemed too edgy by my publishers.)
I obviously agree with Cat that children need variety in their diet.
But bleakness and hopelessness are strong meats. We don't want to serve children food that will make them heartsick.
'...and it never comes back.'
ReplyDeleteI find it very telling that more and more adults are finding refuge in writing for the young because they are sick of the bleakness and cynicism of mainstream fiction. And I wonder if those who are allowed to grow up fastest become the ones who yearn hardest to recover a taste of their lost childhoods.
A great post, Marie-Louise.
As both a child and an adult, I have only ever wanted either 1. Books with happy endings or 2. Books that are obviously going to be tragic due to their subject matter, mostly war stories (I love stories about both World Wars). I hate the current fad for abruptly depressing endings (which I experience mostly through films adapted from bestselling books, though to name them would spoil them for others!). But I have to confess it's not to do with whether I'm young or old, it's my personal taste and always has been!
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a child back in the 80s and early 90s, at the height of Jacqueline Wilson's fame, it was divorced parents I was fed up. I was aware that divorce affected a lot of children - including some of my best friends - but the idea seemed to be that these books, unlike the fantasy I loved and which was incredibly unfashionable at the time, were about 'real life'. Since my parents, and indeed those of a small majority of my friends, were happily married, I objected to this line of reasoning - it might be real, but it wasn't my reality and I didn't want to read about it all the time!
Does anyone remember 'The Chocolate War' by Robert Cormier? It was a depressing novel about relentless bullying. It must have been in the 70s when I was a lone voice at teachers' conferences in condemning this book as too bleak to add to the curriculum. In spite of the deaths in my own 'warrior' books, evil never triumphs over good at the end. I've been beating this drum for as long as I've been writing: children's books must have a happy ending. Thanks so much, Marie-Louise. Finally, some common sense!
ReplyDeleteI agree too - certainly children's books should end in hope. Actually Jacqueline Wilson's books always do (which I think is great, but makes me smile when people tag them as 'realistic')- and it's fair and reasonable that all kinds of children in all kinds of circumstances should see themselves reflected in fiction - but also fair and reasonable that there should be alternatives for the days when they DON'T want to see themselves, but to journey somewhere else and read about other worlds, other ways, other lives.
ReplyDeleteThis is a very interesting post about a very fascinating subject. I agree with one thing you say very strongly. Children need HOPE at the end of a book. Anthony Storr, the pschychiatrist, and husband of wonderful children's author Catherine Storr once said: you can frighten children but you should never let them DESPAIR or think there's not even the possibility of a happy ending. Violence depends I think on how it's done. Even for adults I reckon there's sometome too much that's not germane to the story but gratuitous. Still, I'd rather have the Sopranos which depicts violence with all its effects than something like James Bond say which regards such things as PLAY of some sort...cartoonish violence if you like. The drama that surrounds the acts of violence matters a great deal. And the ending is very important as Marie Louise says.
ReplyDeleteYes, Adele et al. I think that is the crucial point. To leave children with hope not despair. Like Pandora's Box, we can endure almost anything if only there is a little hope at the bottom!
ReplyDeleteFirstly, gratuitous violence and despair for the sake shock value and controversy is simply bad art.
ReplyDeleteThat having been said, I don't think that bleak books necessarily lack hope and beauty. On the contrary, they set up conflicts that sometimes lead to more poignant expressions of hope and beauty than stories that are saccharine-sweet. Because a story involves violence, abuse or agony does not mean that it is necessarily *dwelling* upon it--Angela's Ashes is a good illustration of this point from adult lit.
It's also worth pointing out that not every childhood is safe and blissful. If you grow up poor and/or abused, a book where the protagonist perseveres over poverty/abuse may be what gives you hope. For others, it may be what equips them to deal with adult dilemmas.
If, on the other hand, you grow up sheltered, that same book may only serve to instill you with new fears and anxieties--and this, I think, it the crux of it. Everyone's childhood is different, just as every reader appreciates literature in a different way. It's a question of a happy medium, rather than a "one size fits all" solution.
I agree with all of this excellent article, except that I don't think the essential problem is of hope versus despair, but of good versus evil.
ReplyDeleteThe danger of scenes that 'linger on scenes of agony', in Louise's excellent phrase, is that too often they are presented with, and encourage, a horrifying relish. Too often heroes, with whom we ask our children to identify, are shown behaving with truly horrifying cruelty and callousness.
I have raised my concerns with Jeremy Hunt, and suggested a certificate system similar to that used for films, to be operated by publishers according to official guidelines.
I'm hoping that might encourage publishers to produce age-appropriate material, and stop hiding behind the meaningless YA label.
I thought this was an excellent article, Marie-Louise. As a child I read avidly; when hard times came along in life I was lucky to have supportive family and friends to help me through them. However, I also remember thinking to myself that if much-loved fictional characters could get through bad situations, then so could I, and that really helped me too. Hope is so important!
ReplyDeleteHaving just published a book about divorce aimed at newish readers, I am probably guilty of this...
ReplyDeleteHowever, I also feel that voice is important when deciding whether you've gone too far. Two scenes in which identical action take place can appear positive or negative depending on how it's presented. Personally, I go for humour to lighten the blow. I think Morris Gleiztman (with his contemporary books) and Frank Cottrell Boyce do a fantastic job of that. They're my role models when making these difficult decisions.
This is exactly why I was so heartened when JK Rowling gave the Harry Potter series a hopeful and happy ending. Yes, we'd seen horror and lost characters we loved, but in the end good (and the people we were rooting for) triumphed. It seems to me that it's much more important to empower children by showing them surviving or overcoming hardship than to throw in a Thomas Hardy-type curveball that, basically, says, "Life is shit and then you die."
ReplyDeleteRoald Dahl understood how to control horror in children's stories. He exaggerated it enough to make it fantastic and laughable, but it was still possible to feel the pain of his characters in their awful circumstances. I do think children need the payoff of seeing bad people get their cumuppance and good ones prosper, and I think most of them know that isn't reality, but it strengthens them, nevertheless.
On a similar and related note, I was absolutely horrified when the latest series of Doctor Who showed Amy, the companion, alone, terrified and about to give birth. I really feel that, in their eagerness to show how clever and convoluted their plot lines can be, the writers have forgotten that children watch and regard the Doctor as a hero.
I love all these responses and thoughts - and the mentions of all those inspirational authors. Brilliant.
ReplyDeleteOne of the reasons why I kept reading children's and young adult books into adulthood (I am now 26) is that I was sick of how violent some of the adult books were. I don't mind a story about war or something similar being realistic, but I don't understand the need for graphic details about exactly how someone died, to me that takes the focus away from the tragic loss of someone's life and focuses too much on how they died.
ReplyDeleteI do agree about hope, and I also think that adult literary fiction too often buys the idea that it is cool to be despairing. I also agree that it's ghastly to have extreme violence and gruesomeness shoved in one's face. However, I do agree, also, that kids need to encounter the dark in fiction, too. I can remember, as a teenager, thinking that all my contemporaries seemed to live in such comfortable environments, emotionally, which made them complacent and see everything really simply. I had no idea, then, that some of them might have been abused at home, mind! At least one had an eating disorder. But I was drawn to fiction with strong emotions in it, because they made me feel better, as well as enjoying Georgette Heyer.
ReplyDeleteWhen I do workshops with teenagers, though, the plots they cook up always seem to end in bloodbaths.
I go for the modified happy ending, myself. yes, things are bad, yes, people get killed, but yes, there is still hope at the bottom of Pandora's box.
'Hope leads us ever onward, by telling us tomorrow will be better.'
ReplyDeleteI don't disagree with the post - and I am certainly against any writing which seems to relish cruelty in a sadistic way... but...
Isn't teaching that good will always triumph rather like teaching that there is one perfect, ideal, romantic Love for us all? Is it arguable that this leads to inevitable disappointment, and a feeling that you're somehow inadequate because you haven't found, aren't good enough for that One Great True Love? In a similar way you can spend an awful lot of energy battling on in a situation you are never going to win because 'there is always hope'. Sometimes there isn't. Being aware of that might lead to someone cutting their losses.
Sue, maybe hope consists of the fact that someone can walk away from a hopeless situation?
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteI was a very sensitive child yet I couldn't get enough of kids historical fiction about disasters (The Titanic was a favorite subject), wars, epidemics, etc. yet I don't remember being particularly horrified, and like I said I was VERY sensitive and hated gore. I wonder if children's books have just gotten a lot more violent 15 years later or if my memory is that bad.
ReplyDeleteAnd the books I read were generally accurate in having some of the characters die, etc but I don't recall graphic details of deaths being included.
ReplyDelete