"Books in the life of a child"

Saxby, H. M. H. M. (1997). Books in the life of a child : bridges to literature and learning / Maurice Saxby, Macmillan Education Australia.

[Reproduced from Amazon.com]

Saxby’s work is filled with a wonderful complexity of seeming contradiction. The text weaves descriptions of the shifting and varied constructions of childhood and reader response together with personal conviction about what is right or true. The power of the “child reader” in the practice of reading also appears to shift. Perhaps Saxby himself provides the best account of his approach to dealing with the conflict:

Eventually, we are forced to take up a philosophical position, governed largely from our own experience as readers, the theories of others, the observation of vast numbers of students at all ages and levels of reading maturity, and the results of classroom practice.” p. 67

Multiple competing viewpoints on the nature of both childhood and reading are presented. The very wealth of ideas presented “about” children place the concept into an interesting power relationship with the theorists. Children in all cases are presented as objects of study rather than as active agents; they are done “to” or “for” and their nature is defined by the theorist. The child may be inherently sinful (Puritans), a blank canvass (John Locke) or good (Rousseau). Theories about text vary from the socio-historical, psychological or sociological to the intertextual, postmodern or deconstructionist. Any idea of absolute truth is thus placed into question, with everything seen within a frame of reference or set of premises. And yet Saxby returns to the conviction that a worthwhile book is one that has something universally true to say “to” children:

There should be an underlying statement, albeit implicit rather than explicit, about some fundamental question of human behaviour, belief or emotion. The experience explored needs to be potentially universal. p. 41

This sentiment appears to imply that what is fundamentally true is both knowable and universal. Additionally, the power balance is reinforced, in that the text speaks to the child; the child does not significantly participate in creating the message of the text.

Ideas of learning are similarly complex:

I am convinced that children learn to read by reading, that texts themselves teach the structures of language and the grammar of narrative, and that not only do we humans live by our own stories but that the stories we hear and read, especially in childhood, help shape our lives and outlook. They provide us with much of our culture. p. vii

In this statement, the power relationship is split between the text itself, and the child’s own practice of reading. And yet:

Readers, especially children, need to be helped to sift opinion and propaganda from what is observably 'true' about human nature and society and what is merely a stereotype. p. viii

and

It is a question of knowing the reader and finding the book that suits the present needs, interests and abilities of that child. p. 37

Saxby appears not to subscribe to reader response theory, in which the child actively selects and sifts material according to his or her own current level of intellectual and emotional development, interest and need. In fact, the approach seems most reminiscent of Rousseau, in whose Emile, the child is the active creator of his / her own education, but within carefully defined and selected boundaries, pre-determined by the older and wiser. The child may learn to read from the act of reading, but requires guidance to understand and interpret the text appropriately.

Interestingly, the power imbalance appears not only to apply to children. The quote above from p. viii applies to all readers, with special reference to children. All readers apparently require guidance, which begs the question of who is qualified to act as guide, and on what basis. Several theories regarding “stages” of reading sophistication are outlined, including the six stages proposed by Jack Thomson. In relation to Thomson’s stages, Saxby opines:

The furore that breaks out in the media from time to time about a writer or a literary work would seem to indicate that not a great many reading adults are able to stand back and dispassionately view a work of fiction as a construct which may even be subversive of widely held values. Few can reject the values, but still appreciate the construct. p. 66

I particularly enjoy this statement, because it not only provides a value statement about the reading / intellectual level of the majority of adult readers (placing Saxby and other critics into a privileged higher observer position), but it also creates an interesting theory about the motivation for censorship and the belief in the power of text to influence children (and others!). Following this statement, the ability to separate values from construct belongs only to the intellectually discerning. Readers thus require expert guidance to reach this elevated level; I am delighted by the question this raises about how and why the privileged few have reached the giddy heights from which they view and guide the rest of the world. Especially given the multiplicity of viewpoints espoused by these privileged few, the problem of the power of text is not solved by this statement; it is merely redirected into a new channel.

Saxby covers a wide variety of topics, from theories about childhood to theories about text. He provides a fascinating guide to the shifting (and yet apparently universal) nature of truth. But there is one quote from Michael Benton that I particularly like, which, for me, highlights the challenges so wonderfully explored throughout:

The subject of 'the reader's response' is the Loch Ness Monster of literary studies. When we set out to capture it, we cannot even be sure that it is there at all, and if we assume that it is, we must admit that the most sensitive probing with the most sophisticated instruments has so far succeeded only in producing pictures of dubious authenticity. p. 67

Creating the reader

The subject of 'the reader's response' is the Loch Ness Monster of literary studies. When we set out to capture it, we cannot even be sure that it is there at all, and if we assume that it is, we must admit that the most sensitive probing with the most sophisticated instruments has so far succeeded only in producing pictures of dubious authenticity.

Michael Benton

Choosing realities

The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.

The reader became the book; and the summer night
Was like the conscious being of the book.

Wallace Stevens.

Defining the text

Zipes calls into question the validity of the concept of children's literature, questioning the actual level of consumption and participation in a given text by the target audience. He also opens up the boundaries of text to include other media including film, music, games and the web. As he points out, many young people (and for that matter people of any age) may read images other than traditional narrative.

That would appear to be self evident, especially as not everyone invests their time in books. Engagement in the world of meaning may occur through just about any medium, from computers to sport. The definition of "text" thus becomes so broad as to be all-encompassing. Everything from the clothes we choose to wear to the way we present our cities, gardens and workspaces, becomes a text to be interpreted. At one level this broad definition is helpful, as it gives an impression of the size of the challenge faced when attempting to determine the extent to which text impacts upon reading habits, taste, and moral and intellectual development.

I am reminded of Rousseau's carefully contrived version of educational development, in which the child is ideally allowed to develop and discover without direct intervention, but in a fashion so carefully guided and contrived as to shield the child from contamination by any undesirable stimuli. But, leaving aside entirely the question of what constitute desirable vs undesirable stimuli, what is truly the possibility of controlling the environment with which the child engages? If, as Paley suggests, children use narrative to test, affirm and expand their world view, actively bringing complex thinking skills to the task, to what extent is it possible to direct and control the stimuli with which children choose to engage, and how they will interpret those stimuli?

In addition to educational theory, the question seems to relate less to literary criticism than to psychology. The study of deprivation, cults and psychological warfare (for example) seems most likely to shed light on the potential impact of a controlled environment. I am reminded of Orwell's 1984, in which history is constantly reconstructed and every facet of life, including the dictionary, carefully controlled. But the process, while heavily defeating of the individual, seems less akin to successive approximation towards a desired goal and more akin to frantically stamping out one fire after another in an attempt to construct the desired society.

For the moment I will suppose that I am going to arbitrarily limit the scope of my focus to the traditional written book, aimed at a target audience of children / young adults. As Zipes states, it is impossible to accurately gauge who will read what, and what meanings s/he will create from them. As Paley notes in her observations of her own class, the conclusions drawn by the children are often a surprise to her, and each new text adds to and possibly shifts the meaning ascribed to texts already read. Therefore, when reading any given text, is it possible for me to do anything more than selectively (either consciously or unconsciously) engage with a construction of the world as it appears in the text, and to note any tensions between what is represented as real vs what is desired?

"The girl with the brown crayon"

Paley, V. G. (1997). The girl with the brown crayon / Vivian Gussin Paley, Harvard University Press.

[image reproduced from Amazon]

I cannot be in the least objective about this delight of a book, so I won’t even try. It was Zipes who referred to Paley’s work, of which I had never previously heard, and I owe him a great debt of gratitude. Reading this book was pure joy for me from beginning to end.

I am reminded most of Winnicott’s The piggle, with its emphasis on constantly negotiated meanings and understandings. Only in this case it is not simply a matter of respectfully learning about the other; Paley admits that it is herself that she is constantly defining and refining through her interactions with and observations of the children in her class.

Throughout the book, Paley illustrates the complex level of thinking of which the children are capable, describing the ways in which they use books to test, explore and expand their own world view:

In the course of a morning, the children have taken up such matters as the artist's role in society, the conditions necessary for thinking, and the influence of music and art on the emotions. From Reeny's simple assertion 'That brown mouse seem to be just like me' has come a preview of the introspective life.

She also believes this engagement to be continually compounded by intertextuality, with each new discovery adding layers to existing ideas, while characters, both fictional and literal, flow seamlessly in and between books:

We've done - what, five of Leo Lionni's books already? With each new one, plus all the activities that go with it, there is an unfolding of layers of meaning that extends to all the previous characters.

And, in the end, I am reminded of Francis Spufford. The sub-title proclaims:

How children use stories to shape their lives

But, by the end of the book, Paley queries the relationship between child and book. To what extent does the book shape the child’s thinking, and to what extent does the child approach the book complete with his or her own agenda?

I can't help wondering if Reeny's ability to use the easy tree as metaphor is due in part to the practice we've had in analyzing Leo Lionni. Yet isn't it more likely the other way around? That is, the Leo Lionni stories and the easy-tree stories work so well because the children come to school knowing how to think about such matters.

For Paley, it appears that children shape and create their own world, using the world to continually test or reinforce their understanding.

"Sticks and stones"

Zipes, J. D. (2002). Sticks and stones : the troublesome success of children's literature from Slovenly Peter to Harry Potter / Jack Zipes, Routledge.

_________

[Image reproduced from Google Books]

Zipes engagingly outlines his beliefs regarding the field of children’s literature, and, like many, voices concern about the impact of the current dominant culture, or “culture industry” as he refers to it, on American children. However, his concern is not with children’s moral development per se, but with their homogenisation. He believes that in a society led by market forces, in which people are modeled into commodities, "We do not know our desires. They are packaged for us and induced" (page xi).

Throughout the book, he outlines a tendency to create a cycle of expectation and disappointment – an addiction that requires the continual input of new and novel, but simultaneously predictable stimuli. Children learn not to have loyalty to any text but to continually crave the next and newest. And, because of the focus on consumerism, the aim is always to please and reward, never to challenge or confront. Children therefore do not learn to critically analyse or take on board new and challenging perspectives. They do not even learn the possibility of unresolved pain in a continually repeated formula of overcoming adversity with an invariably happy outcome.

The texts and pictures titillate children or reinforce certain formulaic patterns of thinking that reduce the possibility for the child to develop his or her own creative and critical talents. (p. 47)

This would appear to suggest the disturbing possibility that patterns of reading (with “reading” used as a broad term to incorporate the consumption of all forms of cultural texts  including television and games) can influence not only moral but intellectual and cognitive development. The homogenisation of children creates a creatively and intellectually impoverished society, lacking the ability to question itself.

But what is the significance of the homogenisation that is seen as so harmful? Does Zipes mean to refer only to commercialisation? For example, I have been told that in France, there are comparatively few dedicated children’s books, because children are taught to read from a combination of functional language examples (such as every day signs and instructions) and classical French works. The preservation of French culture and a strong French identity based on the culture’s great works is considered to be very important, and children are raised firmly within a strong classical heritage. More modern works, such as Tin Tin, are quite rare, and must earn their place of pride within the culture before they may be used in the acculturation and education of children. Similarly, in the US about which Zipes writes, I understand that free public education was not originally under consideration, but the government was swayed by the desirability of educating all children in the essential values of US citizenship. And what are traditions, morals and spiritual values but shared understandings of and accepted meanings about the world? Is the “culture industry’s” homogenisation of children somehow essentially different from any other form of educational development, based on the idea of what a child is, or is it merely a different and, to Zipes, less desirable form of homogenisation?

A question is raised by Zipes about the validity of the concept of “children’s literature” in an environment in which most “children’s” books are bought and read by adults with an interest in shaping children’s lives (including literature students, teachers, librarians and parents). Zipes points to historical differences in the concept of the child and depicts a society attempting to construct the child according to its own interests and needs:

'children' and 'childhood' are social constructs that have been determined by socioeconomic conditions and have different meanings for different cultures (p. 40)

I therefore actively sought evidence of how Zipes would construct his child and what he would put in place of the current culture industry. Given his concern with homogenisation, he appears to believe that “the child” does in fact exist as an entity, despite the concept’s transient constructedness, and that s/he can be manipulated at some level. However, tantalisingly, his beliefs about what would be beneficial for child development appear to be largely absent. He does make reference to the importance of the ability to critically analyse, and also to the importance of developing independent creativity and spirituality. These two words, creativity and spirituality, appear to be linked, but Zipes does not elaborate on what he means by either term, or in what way they may be associated. I can therefore only speculate about whether they are meant to be seen as working in combination, such that the development of a moral and spiritual outlook are necessarily associated with the ability to critically appraise and take on board creative independence, free of conformity to mass values.

I am equally curious about the level to which Zipes feels that children can be manipulated, and here I find apparent ambivalence: "there is no longer great faith in the power of children's literature to strengthen the moral character of our children" (p. 158).

And yet, from the preface onwards it is clear that he believes that people at all levels of society are not immune to the culture industry and that we have only a fantasy of freedom, not even truly knowing our own desires (though presumably some level of awareness must be possible or Zipes would not be able to recognise the problem). He forcefully states:

We seek to improve our children's lives by getting rid of moral sewers and by constructing purification systems that confine them. We do not realise how much our purification systems actually produce the waste and turpitude that we complain about. (p. xii)

He postulates two poles of thinking about children, one in which children are passive victims, and one in which they are creative and active agents, creatively recognising and manipulating the constructed rules within which they operate. Zipes places himself in the middle ground, in which children are active players in an environment shaped by powerful adults, and over which they have at best limited control:

Children see and recognize very early how we are indoctrinating them… it is a good sign that the children… recognize the cultural homogenization with which they are confronted. The difficulty is that they will not be able to resist the constant pressure to conform to market demands and to retain their critical and creative perspectives if we ourselves do not keep alive alternatives and change our daily cultural practices. (p. 22)

This creates an image or definition of the child seen in relation to the adult, with the child in the position of relative powerlessness. And yet, since Zipes has already said that “We do not know our own desires” and “We do not realise how much our purification systems actually produce the waste…” the level of adult power and autonomy has already been placed in question. A picture is thus created of the powerless leading the powerless, with the impersonal “system” in the position of control.

The ambivalent, middle ground position is reinforced in the following statement:

Anyone who has worked with children knows that it is practically impossible to make children conform completely to standards and regulations that will determine their behavior as adults. On the other hand, we do know from fascist and totalitarian societies that governments, business, educational institutions, and religious groups can have a profound effect on the belief systems and comportment of children. (p. 20)

This appears to be the glimmer of hope already suggested by the fact that Zipes has awareness of society’s lack of awareness of its own desires. The system is powerful, but not completely so. The child’s limited ability to manipulate his / her own environment is sufficient to prevent even totalitarian regimes from achieving entirely predictable outcomes. Zipes appears to be depicting the production of analytically challenged or “disabled” adults; adults with a certain limited degree of freedom of thought and expression. The disability can be reduced or even eliminated by the removal of the restrictive boundaries. But what would Zipes put in their place?

That text is of extreme importance to Zipes does not appear to be in doubt:

it is through the writing down of experiences and mental representations that the writer endows life with meaning within the codes and symbolic referential framework of a culture and language… (p. 43)

And from Karl Kroeber, who describes narrative as an almost independent and corrupting force:

No one can dispute that narrative has been the primary means by which most societies have defined themselves. On the other hand, narrative is also the primary means by which sociocultural boundaries could be crossed, not transgressively, but unobtrusively. Stories are like plant species that move readily but unobtrusively over surprising obstacles, including vast spaces of time and space, quietly adjusting to foreign environments, and then changing those environments. (quoted p. 108)

But Zipes also quotes a story by Herman Hesse in which a young boy succeeds in penetrating the lies and deceit by which the village priest binds his people, and achieves freedom. A battle is fought between text and individual, with the text holding the strongest hand, but the individual, if s/he can recognise it, holding the wild card.

I find myself delighted by the book’s apparent contradictions and questions as represented in the following statement:

If our young are to have a chance to ground their lives in any kind of tradition, then they must learn hopeful skepticism, how to play creatively with the forces dictating how they're to shape their lives, and how to use storytelling to reshape those conditions that foster sham and hypocrisy" (p. 145)

Presumably, in the process of creative play, one of the forces against which they will have to struggle will be the very “tradition” in which Zipes apparently feels they should be grounded?