|
|
|
I. What is this course about?One of the most common misconceptions students bring into the EN 410 classroom is the assumption that this is a course about Children’s Literature, that is, a course where students will read the assigned books and the teacher will lecture about things like the writer’s biography, where the idea for the book came from, and how the book was received critically. Of course, if that was what this course was about, the title of the course would be EN 410: Children’s Literature, and you’ll notice that it’s not. One of the assumptions that many adults make about children is that they share the same culture—that an American child lives in the American culture, that a Canadian child lives in the Canadian culture, and so forth. While this is true to some extent (insofar as there are American or Canadian mono-cultures), there is a lot of evidence that it would be more accurate to say that children live in a sub-culture of their parents’ culture. Children think differently than do their older counterparts and this shows in the way they express themselves, the way they organize themselves socially, and most importantly, the way in which they transmit this cultural knowledge to other members of the children’s sub-culture. If you have children, you’re probably aware of this on some level, having noticed that your children frequently act like they were being raised by aliens from the Andromeda galaxy, or make the oddest decisions regarding who to be friends with, or for some reason have absolutely no idea why they spent an entire afternoon using their father’s drill to make holes in the garage wall. But for all our failure to understand a child’s motives, there are some things we do know about the sub-culture that all children seem to share. We know, for example, that stories of the great cataclysms of history are passed from child to child via rhyme (“London Bridge” and “Ring-Around-the-Rosy” being two common examples), and that the games of childhood frequently echo the abandoned attitudes and beliefs of historical civilizations (for example, the game “King of the Castle” dates to the Roman Imperial period). In fact, the children’s oral tradition as expressed in song is among the oldest extant traditions in the world. One song in particular, the name of which I won’t reveal here, is actually the oldest recorded melody in history, and possibly pre-dates the Egyptians—despite the fact that it is a song most parents forbid their children to sing. This course is grounded in the assumption that the Children’s Literary Tradition is part of that sub-culture, and is one of the means that children transmit cultural knowledge to other children (mostly, but not always, through book recommendations). In this way, the course is a study of the children’s sub-culture, and how that sub-culture is expressed, and developed, by the “sacred texts” of childhood.
II. Why isn’t Little Women on the reading list?Usually this question is asked about one of a small number of books, namely Charlotte’s Web, Little House on the Prairie, Superfudge (or other Judy Blume book), or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And usually my answer is the same: because I have to choose books from among the several million children’s books that have been published since the mid-1800s (and earlier), and there simply wasn’t room for it. As for Little Women, while I'm certain it's a classic, and have no doubts that it's an excellent book, it bores me to tears.
III. How do you choose books for the reading list?Of course, first and foremost, the book must be part of the Children’s Literary Tradition. Oddly, that eliminates a lot of children’s books. One of the things that I sometimes have to force myself to remember is that most children’s literature is written for an adult audience, even if it is read mostly by children. This seems an odd statement, but remember that the first audience any children’s book has is not a child, but a literary agent or an editor at a publishing house—in other words, if a writer wants to publish a children’s book, it has to be liked by an adult first. Adults decide what books are suitable for children to read, which would pretty much destroy the entire concept of children’s literature if it weren’t for the fact that sometimes “unacceptable” books slip through, and children discover them—usually on their own. (A modern example of this phenomenon is, of course, Harry Potter.) The key term in all of this is “unacceptable”. Most, if not all, good children’s literature is always challenged as being somehow substandard or socially irresponsible in some way—either in its use of language, or in its subversion of societal norms. In order to be considered for inclusion on the reading list for this course, the book must in some way be subversive (or have been subversive at the time of its publication). This excludes books with morals—period. It also excludes the sorts of books that teachers frequently tell students they should read—so much for Moby Dick. You can thank me later. Secondly, it has to be a book I enjoy reading. I start reading potential books for this class about nine months before I actually teach it. If I can read the book in one sitting, it stands a better chance of making onto the reading list than if I can’t. (Even Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire passes this test). I also try not to repeat more than a couple books from semester to semester, so if I’ve taught a book before, chances are I won’t teach it again for a couple of years. Of course, the books I enjoy reading are not going to be, necessarily, the books you enjoy reading. But trust me, if I absolutely hated reading a book, you’ll absolutely hate sitting through class after class about it. I’d make sure of that. Third, I always try to include books from a variety of historical periods, usually starting around the mid-1800s and ending in the present day. The same holds true on an international basis, so you can expect to see books representing not only the Anglo-American tradition (I’m unfairly including Canada in that), but also the Scandinavian tradition. Unfortunately, other national children’s literatures are not readily available, but when they are, I do try to include an example. Fourth, I try to pick books that most readers have never read, or haven’t read in a while. This is, of course, the biggest challenge in the selection process. For example, the last time I taught this course, I assumed that given the prominence of Winnie-the-Pooh “stuff” available to the average child, most students would be familiar with the books. To my surprise, of the 19 students in the class, only one had actually read the original books by A.A. Milne—the rest being familiar only with the toned-down, Disneyfied version of the tales. (Now, you watch. I’m requiring the A.A. Milne version this semester, and everyone in the class will have read it!) Fifth, I pick books from a wide-variety of reading levels. For the purposes of this course, that means I pick books that are appropriate for children from ages 18 months to 18 years. If you question my choices here, read the section on reading level. Applying these criteria is something of a haphazard endeavor. Usually I start by checking with Dr. Amie Doughty (the other professor for this course) to see if she has any suggestions. I also check her reading list to make certain that we’re not duplicating reading lists too exactly. Then I make a trip to the Bayliss Children’s Library to have a chat with the librarian there to see what she recommends. At this point I start compiling a list of books I want to read. This list grows as I make trips to Amazon.com to see what’s available. Sometimes a book makes it onto the initial list simply because I’ve read another book by the same author, sometimes because a student suggested it, sometimes because my mother reminds me I really liked a book when I was growing up, and sometimes (yes, it happens to me too), simply because I liked the look of the cover when I picked it up off the bookshelf or was otherwise stupefied into buying it by the publisher’s folderol. Once I have the initial list, I start reading. I try to narrow the initial list down to 20 or 25 candidates as I read. A lot of books are discarded because I find them horribly boring, which is why you’ll never see Little Women on my reading list. I’m sure it’s a good book, but it bores ME to tears. Other books are discarded because they, quite frankly, piss me off. The Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder is an example of this. While I loved the books as a child, knowing what I know now, I’m horrified. (The reason Charles Ingalls kept moving his family around, for example, had less to do with adventure and more to do with his debts. Read one of the many biographies of Laura and you’ll see what I mean.) Still more books are discarded because I find out that they are out of print, or way too expensive. (I’m still arguing with Yearling about bringing back Black and Blue Magic, just because I desperately want to teach it. Zilpha, are you listening?) When I finally have a list of 20 to 25 books, I stop reading. The final choices for the reading list are made from among these books, based largely on availability and cost. I try to hold the total cost for the course to between $90.00 and $125.00 (American) per semester. Oh, and don’t be fooled. I have been known to slip a ringer onto the class list just to see if you’re paying attention.
IV. Why aren’t there any Newberry or Caldecott award winners on the reading list?Caldecott is easy—Caldecott Awards are given to picture books. While it is true that we do cover picture books to some extent in the class, they aren’t the primary focus of the course—especially since most picture books are chosen for children by their parents and don’t, therefore, qualify as part of the Children’s Literary Tradition. Newberry Awards, on the other hands, are frequently included on the reading list (if not the Award winners themselves, certainly the Honor books). The Story of Dr. Doolittle is an example of a Newberry Award winner that has made it onto the list. It is, however, important to remember that the Newberry Awards are picked by adults, and the same caution about the Caldecott Award winners therefore applies. Also remember that the Newberry Awards are a recent entry into the field of children’s literature (compared to the entirety of it), and because this course covers several historical periods, some books have to be included that were written before the Newberry Awards ever came along. Finally, no award is a guarantee of quality—watch the Academy Awards sometime if you don’t believe me. Just because a book has won the award, doesn’t make it great children’s literature. Also, try to remember that there are other awards for literature to be included, among them the Nobel Prize, the Pulitzer Prize, and so forth. These awards deserve just as much, if not more, consideration than the Newberry—and books like The Wonderful Adventures of Nils, which garnered its author the Nobel Prize, have been included on the reading list for this course in the past. (I don’t repeat reading lists from semester to semester—it gets boring).
V. This book isn’t a children’s book, why is it on the reading list?If it’s on the list, it’s a children’s book. You might, however, question whether a six year old might even be able to read something like A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. But this course covers a wide variety of reading levels, including the freshman to senior high school levels. If, on the other hand, you think a book like A Connecticut Yankee is more appropriate for college than high school, you might want to read the section on determining a child’s reading level.
VI. Why are there so many books required for this course?Because this is a literature course, and most of the books we will be reading for this course are fairly quick reads. Generally speaking, when planning this course, I try to come up with a reading list that most students can complete in roughly two to three hours a week on average. There are exceptions of course (Anne of Green Gables will take longer, for example), but I try to balance these readings with shorter ones (like Ramona the Pest). So, while there are more books on this reading list than in many other literature courses, the reading itself isn’t as difficult. So, in case you were about to ask, yes, I do expect you to actually complete all of the assigned readings. Translation: For God’s sake, it’s Winnie-the-Pooh! Get over it!
VII. Don’t you know that books are more expensive for Canadians?Yes, I do. But the books chosen for this course are cross-checked for availability at Chapters/Cole’s, and at libraries. (Not all of the books will be available at every library, of course, but if you plan ahead, you can always get them via interlibrary loans.) If cost is a major concern, you should also check www.abebooks.com for used copies. You can usually find used copies of the books there at deeply discounted prices.
VIII. Who should take this course?The course is designed for English majors with an interest in cultural studies, and children’s literature. It is also an appropriate course for Education majors who plan to teach high school level literature courses, or language arts at the elementary and junior high school levels; and for anyone wanting to learn something about how children think about their world. However, if you are looking for a course that will help you use literature in the classroom, you should take EN 335: Children’s Literature in the Classroom (or, at least, take it before taking EN 410).
IX. What is the difference between English 410: The Children’s Literary Tradition, and English 335: Children’s Literature in the Classroom?The primary difference is that EN 335 is a course that focuses on the pedagogy of children’s literature, and how it can be used in the classroom. EN 410 doesn’t deal with these questions. That’s not to say the issue doesn’t come up, especially with regard to multicultural and censorship issues—but it’s not the focus of the course. Where EN 335 focuses on practice, then, EN 410 is more likely to focus on a theoretical approach. The other main difference between these two courses is in how they’re taught. EN 410 is a seminar course, which means that most of what gets said about the literature in class is said by members of the class, not the instructor. Generally speaking, the professor in EN 410 might spend a week or so at the beginning of the semester helping you get your feet wet, that is, explaining some basic assumptions from which the rest of the course may be built, but most of the course will be structured around discussion and presentations by you and your fellow students. Of course, the School of English and Speech thinks that both courses are valuable ones—otherwise we wouldn't be offering them.
X. What do you expect from a student presentation?Once you have been assigned a book for your presentation, your first reaction should be to think “I’d better read this puppy NOW”—even if your presentation isn’t for a couple of months. Once you’ve actually read the book, you’d be well served to schedule a meeting with me to discuss your ideas about the book, how they relate to the course, and how you might go about presenting them to the class. After that, you should spend some major amounts of time doing research and thinking about the text. Let me give you a some examples (and the grades they would get):
Here’s another way of looking at it:
XI. How can I determine my child’s reading level?The first thing you have to do is decide that your preconceptions about a child’s reading level are likely to have underestimated the child in question. The second thing you have to do is realize that reading levels as they are discussed by teachers and school administrators are averages of what children in each grade are actually reading, and not an indicator of their capability per se. The third thing you should remember is that most children prefer to read books above their “level”, not at their level. Thus, it is not unusual to find a fourth grader reading Harry Potter, or a seventh grader reading Fellowship of the Ring, even though these books were written for more advanced readers. Bearing all of this in mind, how can you tell if a book is suitable for any given child? One librarian I know suggests that you hand the child a book and ask them to read the first page. “If there are five words they don’t know on the first page, that’s their reading level,” she says. This seems a bit drastic to my way of thinking. I’d settle for three words they don’t know on the first page. But there is a more important issue here, I think. Why are we worried about a child’s reading level? Why don’t we let children pick their own books? If we let a sixth grader read what she wants, she’s not likely to go out and pick up a copy of Wuthering Heights (unless she’s a particularly strange sixth grader) any more than she’s likely to pick out The Hungry, Hungry Caterpillar. Difficulty and interest will keep the child from reading too far above their level, and peer pressure will keep them from reading too far below it. (Imagine a seventh grader trying to explain why he’s reading Ramona the Pest to his hockey team, and you’ll see what I mean.) So my advice is let the child read whatever they want, and see what they’re picking out—that should tell you what level they’re at. Of course, if they’re not reading at all, then you have a different problem altogether.
XII. How can I raise my child to be a better reader?There are, of course, more answers to this question than space permits me to give here—but there are a couple of things that are more important than others: Set a good example. If you don’t read for pleasure, your children won’t either. Let your children see you reading. Let them see you turn off the television in favor of a good book. Show them that you value reading by keeping books around the house. Shell out some money on a good set of encyclopedias and a dictionary. Look things up in them when you don’t understand something in a book you’re reading. In short, be a good reader yourself. Don’t assign books for your child to read. This doesn’t mean you can’t make recommendations, of course, but telling your child that they “should” read something because you enjoyed it yourself when you were their age is likely to turn them off to the idea. (I think this may be why I still hate Little Women. My mother insisted that I’d love it because I was “just like Jo”. Yeah, just like a girl. If that won’t turn a boy off to a book, nothing will.) Practice looking the other way, even when the child decides to read crap. Read aloud to your children. I know it sounds trite—after all, all the baby books recommend it. Nonetheless, it’s important. Don’t wait until your child is “old enough to understand”, but start when they’re in the womb, if for no other reason than to get used to the idea. Of course, the day will come when your children are old enough to read for themselves. Nonetheless, reading aloud was one of the major forms of family entertainment before the invention of the radio, and we could, I think, stand to get back to it a bit. Consider instituting a family reading hour. Gather your family together once in a while (in my family it was for an hour every day after lunch) and read aloud. Let children old enough to read on their own take a turn reading aloud to the family every now and then. Spend some time discussing the book. (And, fair’s fair, the reader gets to pick the book.) If your family is particularly devoted, set aside additional time each week for books of your faith (both sacred and inspirational). If you don’t think you have the time for this, MAKE IT. Finally, don’t be fooled. This “so long as they’re reading something, it’s all good” is an interesting idea, but frankly there is a difference between reading the lyrics to a Brittany Spears song and reading The Iliad. And I’m pretty sure that the sentiment was never meant to apply to internet chat rooms, where teenagers do things like look for illegal MP3 sites, cool places to download finished homework, cheats for the latest X-Box game, and a date for Friday night. If your child is reading Star Trek novels, fine. If they’re reading webpages devoted to things like Brittany Spears gossip, fine. If they’re reading chatroom porn, (especially if that’s the sum total of their reading), INTERVENE.
XIII. What is children’s literature?I have no idea, and when I’ve got one, it’ll be in my book, “Lance Rivers Knows Everything about Children’s Literature”. (I figure that if I ever actually find an answer to this question, I should flaunt it.) That said, there is one feature of children’s literature that seems almost universal—it is subversive and criticizes adult society and culture. It is, in other words, the work of a counter-culture, and as such frequently criticizes or at least questions, why adult society is the way it is. This is particularly true of its view of adulthood itself. Much of children’s literature is characterized by a distinct absence of adults. In books by the Straitmeyer syndicate (Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, The Bobbsey Twins, etc.), children strike out on their own to solve mysteries without the help of their parents, who frequently disappear for business reasons sometime in the second chapter. Orphans are another popular theme, as in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Boxcar Children, Pippi Longstocking, and Harry Potter. In such books, adults are sometimes present, but rarely take responsibility for the child until after the child has done something particularly astonishing on their own. In other books, an adult may be present, but that adult isn’t exactly an adult, but more of a “grown up child”. Mary Poppins, Dr. Doolittle, Tove Jannson’s Moomintroll series, and the Danny Dunn series are examples of this. In still others, adults are seen as having their own, grownup problems that keep them from helping or understanding the child, Ramona the Pest, Superfudge, and Maniac Magee being examples of this (although it should be noted that in Cleary’s books, adults do frequently come through at the last moment). In the pastoral tradition, adults are eliminated entirely and children take on adult characteristics—usually by governing a group of animals or fictional beings, as in Winnie-the-Pooh, Alice in Wonderland, and The Chronicles of Narnia; and in cases where humans are eliminated entirely, the most childlike of characters is the hero, as in Wind in the Willows. More recently, adults and adulthood has been directly criticized or satirized, as in Harriet the Spy, or even vilified, as in the movie E.T: The Extraterrestial. And, of course, in a few books, children hate adulthood so much that they simply refuse to grow up at all. (Need I name one?) Of course, subversion comes in other forms. Books which, for example, directly or openly criticize social norms frequently become outdated in this regard as time goes by. In the case of Jo, in Little Women, the idea that a woman should be a housewife and mother (of a very specific type) was certainly an iconoclastic at the time that the book came out—but seems much less startling in today’s society than it did when it in the Victorian era. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was, when if first came out, banned from several libraries for its use of language that seemed vulgar, crass, and even obscene—but compared to language used on television, it is much less shocking (though the book is now criticized for other reasons). Charlotte’s Web threw the children’s book industry into a tizzy with its frank depiction of the death of the title character (not to mention the constant references to eating one of the protagonists), and the depictions of psychological cruelty in The Chocolate War, cruelty that many high school students can identify with, continues to cause this book to be banned from classrooms across the country. Enough. Take the course if you want a more detailed answer than this one.
XIV. Who is Jonah Black?Jonah Black is almost certainly the pseudonym of author Jennifer Finney Boylan. The books were apparently written before Boylan's gender reassignment surgery, as Variety reports the author as James Finney Boylan in its September 6, 2000 article "Storyline--G-J nails 'Stud' for Series" by Michael Schneider and Jonathan Bing. (The best way to read the actual article is to Google it.) It should be noted that Boylan's website seems to confirm that she is indeed the author of the series. |