Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts

Friday, October 3, 2014

Adolescents and Young Adult Fiction

I've been reading a bit of young-adult fiction. Yep. Me. I know this will shock some of you *Ha! Yeah, right.*, but I have. It's my reading equivalent of dessert—my [somewhat] guilty pleasure.

The reason I feel somewhat guilty about it is because somebody on some website wrote this article saying I should “feel embarrassed about reading things written for children.” In my situation, I disagree on several levels—i.e., it doesn't comprise my entire reading “diet,” many classics and great literary works are/were “written for children” (or have at least come to be viewed as such), and you know, other great points that I can neither come up with off the top of my head, nor do I care to right now because this was supposed to be a negligible part of my topic for the day and yet it has already highjacked this entire paragraph. Suffice it to say that I don't view the reading of YA literature to be inherently wrong.

Unless . . .

Here is the part of the blog in which people may snort at me, argue, and say I'm ridiculously conservative and naively idealistic. Also, some crazy zealots may agree with me and call for the overthrow of the American Library Association (ALA) or something equally rash. Me, I'm just going to tell you what I've been thinking and leave you all to do your thing. (There will be no refreshments at the conclusion of this discussion, so if that's what you're hanging around for, you are welcome to leave now and we'll all just pretend you've stumbled into the wrong blog.)

I'm wondering about the definition of the term young adult. I mean, adults are (or at least, used to be) identified as those who were say, responsible, and taking on the rigors of careers, healthy and relatively permanent relationships, caring for children, buying houses, etc. Skipping discussions about immaturity and delayed decision-making in adulthood (Another day, guys, another day!), let's simply say that adulthood begins at the—here in the United States—generally accepted age of eighteen. If adulthood begins at 18 and extends through the rest of our lives, I would identify young adults to be . . . oh, say, those between 18 and 30, at least. Therefore, I am a young adult.

You know who agrees with me? Psychologist Erik Erikson, whose name makes me wonder how long that name's been in the family. Erikson's stages of development names the period from about 12 to 18
adolescence, with the subsequent stage being young adulthood. Young adulthood stretches from about 19 to 40. In case you were wondering, the main conflict of adolescence is Identity vs. Role Confusion. In other words, “Who am I?” These issues must be resolved prior to advancement to the young adult conflict of Intimacy vs. Isolation (in which young adults seek love and permanent relationships), or the transition to young adulthood can be complicated by confusion and an inability to plan for the future.

According to this Wikipedia article on YA literature though, when the concept of writing especially for young adults originated in the early 1800s, author Sarah Trimmer described the audience as those between the ages of 14 and 21. This age range has been continually lowered, and now the Young Adult Library Services Association (YALSA [Not to be confused with Yalta—the Ukrainian port where world leaders met to discuss terms following WWII—or salsa, which is good on chips]) division of the ALA has defined young adults to be those aged 12 to 18 years old. The article claims that most young-adult authors are typically writing for those aged 16 to 25, while those writing for the 10 to 15 year-old demographic are writing Teen Fiction. This is a distinction that is rarely made, though. At least in my mind and at my local library, I find Teen Fiction to be lumped in with its apparently older sibling, Young Adult Fiction.


The article goes on to tell us that the “Golden Age” of YA fiction took place from the mid-1970s through the '80s. At this time, limits were pushed such that common themes included rape, suicide, parental death, and murder. Come the '90s, these would grow to include drinking, sexuality, drug use, identity, beauty, and teen pregnancy. That's quite a list. At the risk of sounding old-fashioned, I don't think that teens (and when I say “teens,” I mean the group that Erikson defines as adolescents—the supposed audience of YA fiction) are well enough equipped to deal with all of these social issues. Nor do I think it necessary that they should be encountering the more dire of these adult situations, even if only in print. Yes, I know that bad things happen because this is the real world, and that, unfortunately, many teens are living out the “adult situations” contained in YA fiction. I regret that and realize that much of this is unavoidable. But I don't believe that it's healthy to glorify such unfortunate circumstances or to pretend as though these characters' plights represent those of the majority of teens. To present a large number of volumes in which “average” teenagers are endeavoring to resolve the Intimacy vs. Isolation conflict of their yet to come young adulthood before they've even discovered who they are—and to label genre and reader as “young adult” could be detrimental. It slyly encourages the continuation of premature maturation via the depictions of some very harmful behaviors for adolescents.


I see this as an issue that deserves some serious consideration. It should be something that authors, publishers, and librarians should think about while writing and selecting so-called young-adult fiction. But more importantly, it should be something that parents and their children talk about as books are bought or borrowed. Should certain books be banned? I'm not going to open that can of worms; in your household, that's your decision. Should they be discussed? Absolutely. It may be that you decide that your child is mature enough to handle a certain level of exposure through fiction. I myself have decided that there is no way that I can completely control what my daughter sees and hears as she grows up. Sadly, there will be some content and experiences that she will be exposed to, no matter how hard I try to protect her. Books may be a more gentle way for her to see the world as it is. However, as I teach her and help her to select the books she reads, I would hope that those selections would be uplifting. And I would hope those selections would be accompanied by her thoughts on the books and the characters, themes, and morals they contain.

P.S. I was only kidding about the no refreshments thing. We're stopping for chips and salsa on the way to storm the ALA. Contact me to discuss carpooling.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Heads or Tails

Coincidence? When reading C.S. Lewis, I think not. I find so much symbolism within his Chronicles of Narnia that I have a hard time dismissing any bits that I find to be consistent with my beliefs. And while he may not have intended for all my insights to be taken symbolically, I dare not discredit his genius by suggesting otherwise.

Melody and I have been working our way through the Chronicles of Narnia. (We read The Magician's Nephew and just finished The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.) Obviously, it's her first time through. I've read them several times, though, and every time I read them I discover something new to think about. This time through, I've been thinking about the creatures of Narnia.

First off, Narnia contains ordinary animals as well as an elite group that was given the ability to talk. These talking animals are set apart and respected more than their mute counterparts. For example, talking horses are only ridden in times of emergency—such as war, and no talking animal is to be used for food. They are elevated because of their gift of speech.

Many Narnians have a mixture of human and animal bodies, giving them more than just the speech of humans. There are centaurs, fauns, satyrs, minotaurs, and more. And what truly struck me was that generally, those who side with Aslan are those with human heads and animal legs or bodies—like the centaurs and fauns. Those who side with the White Witch may have bodies or characteristics that would make them seem human, but their heads are animal heads. We can see this contrast directly with the “Bull with the man's head” who makes his camp with Aslan and the “bull-headed men” who are present with the witch at the stone table in Lion, Witch and Wardrobe. Both are a conglomeration of man and bull, but it seems significant that the bull-headed men are not simply referred to as minotaurs. And why choose to include such an odd creature as a bull with a man's head? I think this is an intentional message Lewis is sending readers: use your head!

Seriously. Our capacity to reason is unparalleled by any beast—or at least it should be. Unfortunately, I find myself a bit “bull-headed” at times. In my obstinance and failure to reason, I succumb to my more basic instincts and find myself in violation of the first instructions Aslan gave Narnia following its creation in The Magician's Nephew: “[A]wake. Love. Think. Speak.” I may be awake and speaking (although, as a sleep-talker not even the awake part is guaranteed), but I often forget about loving and thinking before I speak. And I think the order of the instructions matters greatly; simply speaking does not a good Narnian make—for this is where the foolish and wicked Narnians separate themselves from those who think and do good.

It was possible for animals who could once talk to lose the ability. Some talking animals did not think, but they loved. Others thought but didn't love. The noblest characters—animal, human, or hybrid—spoke only after loving and thinking.

I hope that my human head and my gift of speech aren't being wasted . . . that my reason and choices keep me in the realm of the human, rather than that of the beast.

Freedom and reason make us men;
Take these away, what are we then?
Mere animals, and just as well
The beasts may think of heav'n or hell.
LDS Hymn #240, Verse 3