Darkness and Light in Young Adult Books
By Adam Burgess
“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” – Steven Kloves
Recently, an article was posted by the Wall Street Journal which set the Book Blogging world abuzz, even generating a new Twitter tag “#YASaves.” As a reader of primarily literature, literary fiction, and the Classics, I little expected to get involved in this debate – until I read the article.
The article, called “Darkness Too Visible,” was written by Meghan Cox Gurdon. It begins with a clever-cutesy tale of a mother who goes to a bookstore to find a gift for her 13-year-old daughter, only to become overwhelmed by the mass of “dark” and “dangerous” YA books. This story reminded me of an event from just a few months ago, when I witnessed something similar at my bookstore. A mom and her 12-year-old son were browsing the Young Adult section. The boy had chosen a couple of books, such as Rick Riordan’s The Lightning Thief and Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Infinity. The mother, looking utterly exhausted, sighed heavily, took the books away from her son, and said aloud, “do they carry nothing but garbage these days?”
I immediately approached her, civilly, and began to rave glowingly about the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series – its literary and historical benefits, its masterful retelling of Greek mythology, and its incredible way of making ancient stories accessible to a new generation and inspiring many of those new readers to seek out the originals. I could not speak to Infinity, as I hadn’t read it, but I imagine any of its readers could have stood up for it as I did for The Lightning Thief. I do believe that boy was lucky enough to go home with the Riordan book, at least, in addition to some others (his mother was trying –no joke- to get this 12-year-old boy to be interested in Little Women).
This brings me back to the substance of the article itself, and what it has to say about “dark” YA and its writers, such as Andrew Smith, Lauren Myracle, and Cheryl Rainfield among others. Even Sherman Alexie and Suzanne Collins do not escape Ms. Cox Gurdon’s rant – which goes so far as to belittle the fight against censorship. Isn’t censorship something a true journalist would fight tooth-and-nail to reject and destroy? Instead, the article goes on and on about the seeming self-righteousness of authors who would expose youths to foul language, scary ideas, and haunting episodes, not, apparently, aware that these words are said in real life – even on the school yard, and that these terrible events do take place, even against our children.
Does the author believe that sheltering our children from the bad things – refusing to acknowledge and confront them- will truly aid young people’s growth and development? And those who must suffer these monstrosities – those kids who do fall into drug use or who are raped, abused, bullied – where else do they learn that this is not their fault, that others have come through it, and that they can be okay too? Is it the job of parents to help teach these lessons? Yes. Do most parents manage this job well, or at all? No. The reason is the same as the reason to censor or ban “dark” and “dangerous” books – the subject matter is uncomfortable so we avoid it and hope for the best.
Ms. Cox Gurdon makes a valid point near the end of her article, which speaks to the same effect. It is the parent’s responsibility to monitor and approve of their child’s reading, as with most other aspects of their young lives. How, though, does that warrant an attack on the genre in general? Do we not print the realities of dangerous events simply because it takes parents a bit more time at the bookstore to find something they would be more comfortable with? What about the parents who do believe their children can benefit from books like Go Ask Alice, which warns against drug use and premature sexual acts? Many parents use such books as teaching examples, as librarian Amanda Hopper stated. Should we punish the responsible parents who do the right thing by reading books first, then discussing the subject matter with their child to ensure proper understanding and meaning, by eliminating the “dangerous” altogether? If we pretend it does not exist – have we really done our children any favors?
Many youths live in abusive homes, but every child in that situation feels she is the only one. Many youths have siblings who are addicted to drugs, sinking further and further into that abyss, but every child feels he is the only one. Many youths have lost parents, grandparents, best friends and are struggling under the weight of their grief, but every child feels that feeling as if she was the only one. These books help young adults to realize they are not alone and, most importantly, that it is not their fault.
As I mentioned at the start of this response, I am not an avid Young Adult reader. I have been made a convert, though, to the benefits of Young Adult literature, and this conversion was largely due to books that Ms. Cox Gurdon might claim are “too dark.”
I speak, for instance, of books such as I am the Cheese and The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier. The former, I read as a youth and devoured because I had very real experiences with mental depression, anxiety, and loss – and I felt I had no one to talk to about it. The latter I read as an adult – while I was a bit shocked at how dark the book was, I was also well-aware of the realities exposed by that book: hatred, fear, bullying. These things exist in school systems across America and the world, and kids should have a safe place to learn that they are not to blame and that they can find help – even if that “safe” place is a “dangerous” book.
I speak, too, of Jim Grimsley’s Dream Boy, which recounts a horrifying teenage-boy-on-teenage-boy rape episode. I read this book multiple times as a high school student, not because of the dark themes, but because the book also spoke of redemption, recovery, and forgiveness. It helped me to put my own “problems” into perspective and to realize that, no, the world does not revolve around me and, yes, I can do better – and I can help make sure others are never feeling as alone and confused as I am.
I speak of Tricks by Ellen Hopkins and Stick by Andrew Smith. These books speak to dysfunctional families, dangerous situations, and survival against all odds. They are masterfully crafted so as to expose real situations – things that actually exist, no matter how some may try to deny or avoid them- and they teach their readers lessons about courage, love, and truth in the face of the most unthinkable circumstances.
Finally, I speak of The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky and Looking for Alaska by John Green. These are the first two Young Adult books that I read as an adult, but when I still needed the messages they bring. They deal with coming-of-age in unusual places and under unusual circumstances. They expose the tragic effects of the death of loved ones on our minds and souls. They speak to the strength of friendship, the power of self-worth, and the beauty of discovering what is most important to us, be it music, art, or another individual. And, most importantly, they let us know – though there are dark times- it is okay to talk about those times, it is okay to think and feel about those times, and it is okay to begin to recover and even forget those times, though it sometimes means letting go of someone dear to you.
I cannot express enough my gratitude to these Young Adult authors – the chroniclers of real life. You are courageous and talented, fearless and needed. You are inspirations to those of us who read for a living and to those of us who strive to write the stories residing within our own marrow.
Thank you, Robert Cormier, Jim Grimsley, Catherine Ryan Hyde, Melvin Burgess, Andrew Smith, Ellen Hopkins, Stephen Chbosky, John Green, David Levithan, Lois Lowry, and so many others.
I stand by you.
Related Posts:
Censorship: What’s With the Expurgation, Mr. Bogus?
Censoring Mark Twain: A Literary Embarrassment
Darkness Exists (Smash Attack Ash)
Elevating the Status of YA (Indie Reader Houston)
Why the Best Kids Books are Written in Blood (Sherman Alexie)
Our Yank by Donovan O’Malley
Final Verdict: 2.75 out of 4.0
YTD: 28
Plot/Story:
3 – Plot/Story is interesting & believable.
Our Yank is the story of 17-year-old American Andy, who moves to England to study Art at Oxford University. Andy is a bit of a neurotic, obsessively and detrimentally consumed by the tension between America and Russia during the Cuban Missile Crisis. He moves into a homegrown hostel, run by a quirky elderly woman suffering from Alzheimer’ s disease and who, it would seem, lodges only the strangest of sorts at her hostel home. Andy must learn to break out of his shell, engage with the world around him, and get over the all-consuming terror of total world annihilation which haunts his day-to-day life. At first, he avoids confronting his illness by locking himself away and engaging in one random sexual experience after another, with members of both sex, until his psychological fear leads to true physical illness and he is admitted to the hospital after near-suicide.
Characterization:
3 – Characters well developed.
The characters in Our Yank are bizarre, to say the least. They are rather shallow, but this is largely the result of the author’s primary experience as a playwright. That being said, he is indeed a gifted story-teller and comedian. The book is cynically and darkly funny – taking advantage of life’s idiosyncrasies to expose elements of human nature that are strange, often shied from, but always present. The characters themselves are written in such a way as to bring these oddities to life, each one a minor caricature or grotesque of a larger personality “type,” which is often the case in theater dramas or comedies. It works to the story’s advantage, overall, though it does leave a desire for a bit more depth and connection – between characters and their experiences, as well as characters and the reader.
Prose/Style:
2 – Prose/Style in need of Development but works.
The book is fluid and easy to read, with a certain sophistication; however, its prose and style are its main weakness. Again, this disconnect may come from the translation from play to novel, as the language and description does not always develop as thoroughly as it could or flow as freely as the story might otherwise allow. There is a comedic tension throughout the book, which the prose does reflect, but one major distraction was the back-and-forth between first-person and third-person narration. This could be an effective literary device in plays, where the narrator or chorus must omnisciently relay explanations and character emotions or intent, but in the novel form, it tends to come across as haphazard and discordant.
Additional Elements: Setting, Symbols/Motifs, Resolution, etc.
3 – Additional elements are present and cohesive to the Story.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this novel was its underlying themes. Andy’s neurosis is clearly in the foreground, but the underlying nervousness and national fear is also being represented through him. The (mis)representation of America and other nations through the eyes of the British, too, is interesting and amusing at times. Also, the coming-of-age story itself – the casual exploration with sex, alcohol, and independence- is well written, as it is integral to the story without ever overshadowing the books alternate purposes. All-in-all, the book is rather enjoyable and additional reading from this author is recommended.
Suggested Reading for:
Age Level: High School+
Interest: Transatlantic Literature, 1960s, Coming-of-Age, Neurosis, Sexuality, Bisexuality, Cultural Studies
The Literary Blog Hop is hosted by The Blue Bookcase
This week’s topic is:
Talk about one author that you love and why his or her writing is unique.
Ah, this is a tough one. There are a few writers I could go with, the most obvious probably being my blog’s inspiration, J.D. Salinger. I could go with another favorite, Kurt Vonnegut, whose wit and dark humor I absolutely adore. Similarly, Mark Twain cracks me up and writes with such natural honesty it’s hard to deny him a spot at the top. Ernest Hemingway, Anthony Burgess, Leo Tolstoy, John Steinbeck, and Herman Melville: Love, love, and more love. It’s insane to have to pick one writer to talk about; there are so many I’m completely enamored with! But, okay, the question is to pick one, and I play by the rules, so let’s go with the Godfather of the Beat and Punk generations: William S. Burroughs.
What is so interesting about Burroughs is that he came from a wealthy, cultured background, but wrote so subversively. This in itself is not unusual, as many of the most limit-pushing writers came from the higher reaches of society so therefore had the largest possible swing on the pendulum of philosophies. He was even an outsider from the literary schools and cultures that he inspired, though, because he was Harvard-educated. He never identified as “punk,” though the movement was greatly inspired by him and his works.
William S. Burroughs
Video, Color Laserprint by Christiaan Tonnis, 2006
Aside from his status as an all-around outsider, though, what I love most about his writing are his prose and subjects. He was the first writer to expose so openly the life of a queer man and drug addict. Naked Lunch was the last major work in American history to challenge the censorship system (and ultimately win). The cut-up style of prose he used was first inspired by the Dadaists, but Burroughs honed the art and presented it in the starkest and most influential way seen to-date in literature, and it was this style that was later emulated by songwriters and artists across the Beat and Punk spheres. Burroughs was versed in human psychology and experimented with almost every possible narcotic and drug available, even those experimental drugs tested by the military and the government. Burroughs used these opportunities to test his mental and physical limits, and then to write.
Interestingly enough, though Burroughs used drugs for most of his life (resulting in the accidental murder of his wife and the ultimate disassociation from his children), his books are largely cautions against drug use. His books seem, on the surface, to glamorize or idealize drugs and sex, but Burroughs is actually explaining to his readers that dependence on drugs is the ultimate form of control – the control someone or something else has over your body and spirit. Burroughs hated nothing so much as this type of control and he was haunted by his addiction throughout his life because, though he broke every other possible restriction and “norm,” he could not regain control of his own life from the downward spiral of addiction. His works reflect this – they are sad, but brilliant. They are also not for the faint of heart.
Quotes:
“Every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage.”
“Love? What is it? Most natural painkiller what there is.”
“After a shooting spree, they always want to take the guns away from the people who didn’t do it. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to live in a society where the only people allowed guns are the police and the military.”
“After one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say ‘I want to see the manager.’”
“Your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer.”
Nicholas Dane by Melvin Burgess
Final Verdict: 2.75 out of 4.0
YTD: 27
Plot/Story:
3 – Plot/Story is interesting & believable.
Nicholas Dane is fourteen years old when his mother dies unexpectedly, leaving no one to care for him. It is only after months of searching that anyone is able to find a relative willing to help but, by then, it is too late. Though a friend of Nicholas’s mother tries to take him in and care for him, the Social Services will not allow it, and Nick is shuttled off to a home for boys – in other words, Hell. Nicholas must endure endless cruelty – physical and emotional brutality and sexual abuse from those put in charge of “caring” for the boys. When Nick tries to escape and do the right thing by telling authority figures about the abuse, his world comes crashing down around him. Nick eventually gets out, but he struggles through years of shame, self-doubt, and anger.
Characterization:
2 – Characters slightly developed.
While the story is interesting and certainly relevant and while some of the characters and their stories are also believable and interesting, there was a lack of depth in any of them which would have allowed the reader to truly connect with the story and root on any of its characters. The reader absolutely feels sorry for Nick and wants to see him make it, though time and time again he tries and fails – exasperating himself and the reader in the process. Characters like Jenny, Mrs. Dane’s closest friend, and Mrs. Batts, too, could have been much more deeply engaged with the story – as they were necessary characters with intriguing personalities and motivations, but they were not allowed to go anywhere with it. Perhaps the best drawn characters are the more evil ones, like Jones and Tony Creal. Since much of the book is about evil and abuse, this is a positive point, but it left the book feeling a bit lop-sided and underdeveloped.
Prose/Style:
3 – Satisfactory Prose/Style, conducive to the Story.
Burgess’ language and prose are definitely strengths – he moves a story along quite well, and you can read through chapters without realizing how far you have gone. Coupled with the dangerous but fascinating nature of the work (Burgess won the Carnegie Medal for a reason) it works quite well overall. There were moments, though, where the story seemed repetitive and the language seemed almost too soft for the drama of the situations at-hand. Particularly troubling moments of the story, for instance, were glossed over which, considering this is a Young Adult novel, one could understand – still, I was hopeful for a bit more description and force of prose at times. If one considers that this is perhaps the Young Adult equivalent of William S. Burroughs or Charles Bukowksi, though, it does make sense – similar themes, but accessible to a younger audience (who perhaps need to hear it).
Additional Elements: Setting, Symbols/Motifs, Resolution, etc.
3 – Additional elements are present and cohesive to the Story.
Nicholas Dane is essentially a modern retelling of Dickens’s Oliver Twist. Oliver and Nicholas are orphaned in similar ways and forced into similar hardships; however, where Dickens may have recognized certain physical and emotional trauma’s, he either was not aware of, could not fathom, or forced himself to completely avoid the even more horrid and secret abuses that Nicholas Dane endures. The comparison between the two stories rings true near the end, in an almost-exact re-imagining of the scene between Nancy and Bill Sikes. Burgess takes the scene a bit further than Dickens did – making it slightly more graphic, but the betrayal by Nancy/Stella and the ultimate punishment by Bill/Jones are mirror images. Still, the themes of child abuse, foster care and Social Services short-comings, lost youth, and permanent emotional scarring by abuse in one’s youth which then shapes their adulthood, is not lost on the reader and is an important psychological and social message.
Suggested Reading for:
Age Level: High School / YA +
Interest: Abuse, Coming-of-Age, Youth, Social Services, Orphans, Family, Violence, Crime