As Melville skillfully reminds us in her last post “To LoL or not to Lol?” technology doesn’t merely operate as a distraction from self-improvement and the like. If used properly and moderately, it can offer a world of learning and enhancement. “Line-by-line online” by Chuck Furlong http://www.kansascity.com/2010/08/06/2134175/young-writers-spin-on-the-web.html illustrates an instance of how beneficial technology and the Internet can be, specifically for teenage writers. Sites like www.inkpop.com allow young writers to self publish their work, allowing them to expose their writing to their peers. In addition, “Inkpop’s owner, HarperCollins, keeps a close eye out for potentially publishable titles”—titles which ultimately end up being the most popular with the most online viewings. So, everyone benefits, right? Aspiring young writers, interested readers, and big-time publishers? And pretty much all for free because of the beauty of the Web.
But is there a cost for doing this? Is there a cost for rewarding young writers for being popular? Obviously, popularity doesn’t always necessitate superficiality and mediocrity if viewed through a literary lens, but a lot of times it does. Don’t get me wrong; I think sites like Inkpop that encourage young people to use their creativity to write and read is a good thing, especially considering other mischievous things they could be getting into. But at the same time, most of their topics revolve around romance, relationships, suicide, and vampires; these are all worthy topics, and they’re obviously meaningful to teenagers, but from the snippets and summaries I’ve read, they seem to be explored in a self-indulgent way, similar to a lot of popular adult fiction. As someone who values the impact literature can have, I am now a bit worried about what American teens find popular in “literature.” I don’t want to be a downer, or anything; I’m not above the “pleasure” read once in a while; I love mixing a silly romantic comedy into my bowl of films that tend to be epic, complex, and artsy. But as Melville points out in her previous post, does a healthy balance exist in terms of what teens are reading these days? Beyond school requirements, are many teens interested in well-structured forms of “literature,” or no? (Shout out to my Mom, who made my sister and I read a classic text in between our unhealthy appetite for the Baby-Sitters Club books back in the fourth grade. Thanks, Mom!)
Obviously, there is always the exception; I’m sure there are some young readers who prefer less indulgent texts, but hopefully those in touch with young adult literature out there can help me out: can young adult literature really be considered “literature?” Do you think what they’re reading now will eventually develop into a taste for more complex texts, or do you think this audience will just continue to read popular adult fiction when they grow older? Considering that they are developing their critical reading skills and such, is it okay for teen fiction to be more superficial in nature? Will popularity always reign? In a country where we think we are progressive, will popularity always be the way of the world? Can authentic literature ever be popular?
Showing posts with label YA Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label YA Fiction. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The Dangers of Reading Books in a Car Wash
Over the last year, I have had to become acquainted with “young adult” fiction. I realized the hard way (teaching is just really trial and error) that my younger students are not quite ready for some of the classics. For instance, I tried reading Emma with a 7th grader and showed her a Marxist reading of the text (I know, I was rather ambitious). In the end, I did all the talking while she looked at me eyes glazed over, head nodding, etc. But I truly believed she could do it! And, it was not her fault that she couldn’t. Their teachers have told them it is too hard, they don’t have the vocabulary or the emotional maturity, and they don’t have any confidence in themselves. They think it’s above them, so they don’t try. They also don’t know how to search for ideas on their own---but enough about the failings of our school system…
Because of all this, I have had to search for challenging yet “age-appropriate” texts. While I have come to realize that the “young adult” title is rather superfluous, I think it makes students feel safe. It’s made for them, so they have more confidence that they can figure it out, even if they always don’t. And, I think the good books can be the door to more challenging books later on. I do want to qualify this with I don’t agree with any reading is good reading. There are some really awful YA books, just like there are really bad “adult” books. So, ultimately, I have decided I can remain an elitist even while reading YA fiction, which is really what this has been about.
It has been hard not letting this year feel like a waste because I haven’t spent it reading Dante and Shakespeare like I feel I should have been. Instead I sobbed through Bridge to Terabithia and sped through Fever 1793 in a day. I haven’t read a text from before 1900 in almost 5 months. My new favorite authors are Nancy Farmer and Markus Zusak; I bought all their novels, and now I am forcing my students to read them with me, just because I feel I need the excuse. Now, I seem to be in the most ridiculous existential crisis: am I still a scholar? I know, I know, I am being dramatic, but I still wonder, did Greenblatt ever read The Secret Garden? And what did he think? (Were Mary’s subversive outings in the garden and friendship with the servant boy really about containing her and making her a polite, good little girl? Is Fever really a study on how epidemics affect the class system? Is Terabithia really about the unfair binaries established by our culturally constructed gender roles? )
To say the least, I decided to read these books the way I was taught and try to teach my students to do the same while also teaching them how to evaluate what they read. In other words, I am creating a little a elitist army-- so far it has only worked with one, but I feel that is still a victory. [She and I have created our own evaluating system. I told her once reading a good book was like having the most amazing 6 course meal. Not only does it taste good, but it’s good for you and your soul. She has taken it a step further and created this system:
Soda: the easy, sugary books with which you can wash down the others. Having too much, however, will rot your teeth and make you sick.
Appetizer: More substantial books, but are usually fattened with cliché themes. Only a taste of a real meal.
Cabbage: The books we have to read and we know are good for us, but aren’t that pleasant going down.
Steak dinner with broccoli: These books are not only pleasant to devour, but also leave you with satisfaction.
And, it goes on and on. The analogy has helped her and my other students understand there is a rating system beyond what they read in school and what they want to read. For the most part, it has helped some to choose books to read on their own more successfully]
Anyways, it’s been fascinating teaching students how to read these texts with a critical eye. I do have to change the jargon, but when they are done reading and I tell them the “official” label, they feel accomplished--even my ten year olds.
For myself, I have found YA to be, well, fun. These books can be serious, yet they seem to have more hope for the world and humanity--they represent the time of life when we have become intelligent to the world around us, but have not yet become cynical. These books, even if they explore death and loss and pain, they still have a redemptive ending. I noticed that the older kids, after they have read Fountainhead and Lord of Flies, they are apathetic and skeptical to everyone and about everything. When exactly is that shift and how can we prevent it?
To end, I leave you with a suggested reading: The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. It is about a young German girl’s life during WW2 told from the point of Death:
“I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn’t already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race--that rarely do I simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.”
[Just a note: Do not read the last 30 pages in the waiting area of the car wash. Other customers will turn and stare while you can’t stop crying. Then the man who gives you back you car will ask you if you are okay. Actually, just don‘t read it in public.]
Wollstonecraft
Because of all this, I have had to search for challenging yet “age-appropriate” texts. While I have come to realize that the “young adult” title is rather superfluous, I think it makes students feel safe. It’s made for them, so they have more confidence that they can figure it out, even if they always don’t. And, I think the good books can be the door to more challenging books later on. I do want to qualify this with I don’t agree with any reading is good reading. There are some really awful YA books, just like there are really bad “adult” books. So, ultimately, I have decided I can remain an elitist even while reading YA fiction, which is really what this has been about.
It has been hard not letting this year feel like a waste because I haven’t spent it reading Dante and Shakespeare like I feel I should have been. Instead I sobbed through Bridge to Terabithia and sped through Fever 1793 in a day. I haven’t read a text from before 1900 in almost 5 months. My new favorite authors are Nancy Farmer and Markus Zusak; I bought all their novels, and now I am forcing my students to read them with me, just because I feel I need the excuse. Now, I seem to be in the most ridiculous existential crisis: am I still a scholar? I know, I know, I am being dramatic, but I still wonder, did Greenblatt ever read The Secret Garden? And what did he think? (Were Mary’s subversive outings in the garden and friendship with the servant boy really about containing her and making her a polite, good little girl? Is Fever really a study on how epidemics affect the class system? Is Terabithia really about the unfair binaries established by our culturally constructed gender roles? )
To say the least, I decided to read these books the way I was taught and try to teach my students to do the same while also teaching them how to evaluate what they read. In other words, I am creating a little a elitist army-- so far it has only worked with one, but I feel that is still a victory. [She and I have created our own evaluating system. I told her once reading a good book was like having the most amazing 6 course meal. Not only does it taste good, but it’s good for you and your soul. She has taken it a step further and created this system:
Soda: the easy, sugary books with which you can wash down the others. Having too much, however, will rot your teeth and make you sick.
Appetizer: More substantial books, but are usually fattened with cliché themes. Only a taste of a real meal.
Cabbage: The books we have to read and we know are good for us, but aren’t that pleasant going down.
Steak dinner with broccoli: These books are not only pleasant to devour, but also leave you with satisfaction.
And, it goes on and on. The analogy has helped her and my other students understand there is a rating system beyond what they read in school and what they want to read. For the most part, it has helped some to choose books to read on their own more successfully]
Anyways, it’s been fascinating teaching students how to read these texts with a critical eye. I do have to change the jargon, but when they are done reading and I tell them the “official” label, they feel accomplished--even my ten year olds.
For myself, I have found YA to be, well, fun. These books can be serious, yet they seem to have more hope for the world and humanity--they represent the time of life when we have become intelligent to the world around us, but have not yet become cynical. These books, even if they explore death and loss and pain, they still have a redemptive ending. I noticed that the older kids, after they have read Fountainhead and Lord of Flies, they are apathetic and skeptical to everyone and about everything. When exactly is that shift and how can we prevent it?
To end, I leave you with a suggested reading: The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. It is about a young German girl’s life during WW2 told from the point of Death:
“I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn’t already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race--that rarely do I simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.”
[Just a note: Do not read the last 30 pages in the waiting area of the car wash. Other customers will turn and stare while you can’t stop crying. Then the man who gives you back you car will ask you if you are okay. Actually, just don‘t read it in public.]
Wollstonecraft
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