Obsession, Preteen Style: The Twilight Saga

Romance is a time-honored genre, from Wuthering Heights to Barbara Cartland. Though not a personal favorite, romance novels have provided us guilty pleasure from time to time --enough to recognize the standard of identity: the dangerous, anhedonic hero, the heroine who cannot believe her good luck, the heating of blood, and the bruising of lips. Typically, any serious bodice ripping is reserved for after the wedding, though the couples' troubles are rarely resolved by that event. Indeed, Miss Shelved suspects romance novel central relationships must border on the abusive in order to be worth reading about. Romance is a special form of fantasy, an escape in which no mature reader truly believes. Much as we adore them, we cannot imagine asking Heathcliff to pick up the dry-cleaning or Max DeWinter to carpool for soccer. Nor would we want to.

Escapism, even sublimation, is rife in children's literature as well. Just think of all the adventures made possible by the absence of parents (dead, kidnapped, or what-have-you) -- none of which make children yearn to be orphans. From time to time some pious infant will bring a book to Miss Shelved's attention for its bad words, violence, or depiction of naughtiness. We gently suggest that it is possible to read about misbehavior without running out and committing it. Reading about things one might never do is part of what makes a book exciting. The better part of children's fiction involves scrapes that would whiten a parent's hair, yet we see few budding Artemis Fowls, Alex Riders, or even George and Harolds amongst our young readers. So why are we suffering such qualms over Stephanie Meyer's Twilight books?

One supposes the first issue is how much romance is appropriate for the preteen reader? Much fine kid-lit includes the first fumbling attraction between a boy and girl, even a little gratuitous snogging (Lavender and Won-won, anyone?) But it is peripheral to the plot, not the center. The Twilight books, now being picked up by many 10-11 year olds, have all the standards of identity of adult romance novels. The setting is high school -- indeed there is far too much verbiage wasted on who sits with whom at lunch and other minutia. The vampire hero exudes all the self-loathing and sexual heat of an Anne Rice character. Yet nothing happens despite his regularly spending the night in the same bed with the 17-year-old heroine. It is a melange of High School Musical, The Vampire Lestat, and Fear of Flying. Much is made of the old-fashioned morality of the tale: no pre-nuptial congress (human or vampiric) will be countenanced by the gentlemanly Edward, no matter how much Bella wants it. Still, time and again the couple comes to the brink before Edward pulls back and makes the wise choice for the both of them. It is worth noting that the most overused adjective applied to Edward (other than gorgeous) is smug. The most overused adjectives applied to Bella, on the other hand, are sullen, glaring, and pouting. Indeed.

So, do these books belong in an elementary school library? Can they reasonably be viewed as escapism for 10-11 year old girls? Can girls at that age distinguish between the reality and the fantasy of the relationship? Do they see the abuse? Or will they learn to expect "true" romance to include 24/7 attention, stalking, emotional blackmail, not to mention lots of unsupervised private time in rooms with large beds? Miss Shelved does not have the answers -- but would prefer to defer the questions until at least junior high.

Latest from Terry Pratchett

It is tough on one's significant other to hear hysterical laughter and get no coherent explanation of its cause. Clearly there are times when one can easily read aloud a book's jokes and laugh together. This can be difficult with Terry Pratchett, who embeds his jokes so ingeniously that punch lines may hit
pages after the setup -- and are all the more hilarious for this patience and care.

Miss Shelved admits to enjoying the raucously silly DiscWorld series Pratchett writes for adults. However, there is something especially magical when Pratchett pulls onto the PG highway and writes for a younger audience. He remains at least as funny, but also becomes quite joyful, thoughtful, and astonishingly moral -- in a completely non-denominational, non-sectarian, non-political, non-judgmental sort of way. In other words, he asks great questions, and doesn't hit anyone over the head with the answers.

In his latest, Nation, Pratchett confronts the issue of why bad things happen to good people. We have a boy, Mau, who expects to paddle his canoe back to a triumphal coming-of-age celebration and instead runs straight into a tsunami which wipes out his entire island population. He meets Daphne, a European girl whose shipwreck on that island is only the latest in a string of personal disasters. Together they rail against the gods, remake the world, help the needy who continue to wash up on their shores, and try desperately to find some meaning in it all.

Bad things happen to good people, Mr. Pratchett knows. Less than a year ago he made a public announcement of his early-onset Alzheimers. He admits to his own railing against the gods, and to a certain level of desperation. So far he continues to write, continues to think outside the box and play delightful games with the English language. But clearly he, too, is trying to find the meaning of it all. In Nation, we see that Pratchett still finds considerable beauty and goodness. The sheer wonder and pleasure of thinking makes life worth living -- and makes us worthy of the gift. Terry Pratchett intends to use his gifts to the fullest, and we stand among many devoted readers who are pulling for him to continue to do so for many years to come.

MEMO Conference!

Thank you, organizers, for a lovely and highly informative conference (Oct. 3-4, 2008). The keynote speakers were two young, male, YA authors who couldn't have been more different. Jordan Sonnenblick looks like a nice Jewish boy any mother would be proud of. As for Patrick Jones, well, his School Library Journal cover portrait says it all: long hair, beard, proudly caricatured wearing trunks in a pro wrestling rink (note: we are sure his own mother loves him all the same). The straight and narrow vs. off-the-wall. Yet one suspects they would have immensely enjoyed meeting each other. Each has a nice, wry sense of humor, easily directed at himself. And each was preaching the gospel of "let the kids read what the kids want to read." One of the best take-aways from the whole weekend was the reminder that if we want students to see themselves as successful readers, we have to stop criticizing what they choose to read.

A presenter from the U of M quoted Stuart Brand on the impact of new technology: "...if you're not part of the steamroller, you're part of the road." Who of us has not felt part of the road from time to time? Well, thanks to "23Thingsonastick" we personally are feeling much more confident of a seat on the steamroller -- and said as much on the 23 Things panel on Saturday. Thank you, Patricia Post, for inviting Miss Shelved to participate. Thanks, too, to our generous and colleagial co-panelists, Zomo and Scott. One suspects the audience was at least as impressed by the fact that the three of us continued to share brand new ideas amongst ourselves as they were with the "things" we had planned to present to begin with. Ah, love of learning is so infectious.

Kindly friends, when apprised of the fact that Miss Shelved was attending a librarians convention, tended to respond with a sardonic "wheeee!" They don't know the half of it.

Read to your class

What classroom teacher wouldn’t like to start off the year with a sure-fire, glue ‘em to their chairs read-aloud? Most experienced teachers have a shelf full of old favorites – and we rely on them to keep each new generation of readers going back to those great old titles (more on this anon). But still, everyone likes a little novelty now and then. So here are some newer titles that have been well-accepted by the squirreliest of audiences.

No Talking by Andrew Clements tells what happens when the yakkiest class in the school pits the girls against the boys in a no-talking contest. To be respectful, of course, one can respond to an adult – but only using 4 words. So how does brevity (and thinking before you speak!) impact class communication, learning, and relationships? There are some surprising, funny, and sometimes enlightening outcomes. Optimal Audience: grades 4-5

Drita My Homegirl by Jenny Lombard is another school story. This time an unlikely friendship develops between Drita, a new immigrant from Bosnia, and Maxie, the 4th grader most infamous for speaking first and thinking later. You may be as surprised as Maxie to learn that Bosnian kids play some pretty competitive basketball. O.A. grades 3-4

Peak by Roland Smith starts with a literal cliff-hanger. Our hero (actually named Peak – it’s a long story…) is hanging by his fingertips to solid rock as the March wind threatens to send him flying to certain death. Then we discover that he is actually on the side of the Woolworth Building and heading right into serious trouble with the police. His deus ex machina is his famous (and notably absent) mountain climbing father – who has an interesting proposition for Peak. O.A grades 5-6

Toys Go Out by Emily Jenkins is a charming set of interconnected episodes about a child’s favorite stuffed toys. They have interesting personalities: the know-it-all, the worrier, even one toy who isn’t quite sure what she is (the students love figuring THAT out!). The toys bicker and negotiate, have adventures in the washer and in the backpack, and annoy and love one another in ways students will recognize. O. A. grades 2-3

Clementine by Sara Pennypacker offers similar but somewhat more sophisticated humor than Junie B. Jones. Clementine’s daily talks with her principal are indescribably funny. But at heart we have a little girl all too aware that she is a “difficult” child having “not so good of a day” and desperate to find her niche. A unique voice! O.A. grades 2-3.

The True Meaning of Smekday by Adam Rex is a wild sci-fi alien invasion story. Our heroine, Gratuity Tucci (nickname Tip) is on the run from the aliens, driving her mom’s car down the deserted highways with a can of creamed corn strapped to her foot to reach the pedal. She meets the alien “J Lo” (alien names being unpronounceable) at a convenience store and soon they are on the run together, finding Tip’s missing Mom, discovering why Disneyland is so clean, and generally saving the universe. Silliness was never so smart. O. A. grades 5-6

Please don’t ignore the old warhorses, however. Our students don’t need to know the book you’re reading is older than you are! Some of the books still getting excellent responses (thank you to every teacher I’ve ever met…) include:

Otis Spofford by Beverly Cleary
The Wheel on the School by Meinert DeJong
Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
Island of Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell
George’s Marvelous Medicine by Roald Dahl
Soup by Robert Newton Peck
Homer Price by Robert McCloskey
Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

And if you have never read Charlotte’s Web aloud to a class, you are missing out. Miss Shelved cannot think how many times it has been, but we still always tear up when Charlotte dies ("No one was with her . . ."). No child should get through elementary school without it.

Genres for Elementary Grades

For a full screen version, visit http://voicethread.com/#u134853.b178661.i949765

Asperger Lit: Is Mr. Darcy on the Spectrum?

Diagnosis in retrospect is all the rage in ASD circles. Was Einstein autistic? Isaac Newton? Thomas Jefferson? If one can attempt to label historical figures, why not try literary characters? In many cases there is at least as much evidence. Mr. Darcy comes to mind with his foot-in-mouth people skills. Bartleby the Scrivener and Sherlock Holmes are, without a doubt, classic examples. Could this become a new parlor game? Join in the fun and send us your candidates!

All this, however, is merely a headline grabbing intro to a discussion of the growing trend toward Asperger's characters in children's literature. Mark Haddon's adult best-seller The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night quickly made the crossover into YA territory. Now there are a number of new children's novels that offer peeks inside the ASD brain. These are not didactic picture books aimed at developing clasmates' tolerance (though there are some fine examples out there: Ian's Walk comes to mind). These are three intermediate level novels with strong voices and highly readable stories.

The Very Ordered Existence of Merilee Marvelous, a first novel by Suzanne Crowley, focuses on its heroine's quirky world view. Merrilee has a schedule, totem possessions, ironic verbal quirks ("Stupid. Stupendous."), and well-developed cushions against human contact -- none of which stand in the way of (or stand in for) a full-blown characterization. Merrilee is perfectly aware of the level of harassment she faces but has her pains and pleasure well organized. The conflict Merrilee faces is the intrusion on her "very ordered existence" (VOE in her own parlance) of three potential allies. Nurse Veraleen intrudes at home. Wannabe boyfriend (!) Gideon makes school confusing. And tenacious Biswick follows her around just about everywhere else. Biswick has fetal alcohol syndrome. Friendship with him, from Merilee's point of view, is just another nail in her coffin when it comes to being defined as a "retard" -- and yes, the word is bandied about freely. Can she overcome her irritation at these intrusions? Will she have somewhere to turn when her 'VOE" is inevitably upset in a big way? Crowley offers a delightfully off-the-wall Southern Gothic setting (who knew that Pigglie Wigglie stores had "butt spiders"?) but keeps Merrilee on solid ground throughout. Truly -- "stupendous."

Rules by Cynthia Lord takes the point of view of an ASD sibling. Catherine is an intensely caring and supportive sibling. Like many "sibs" she's had to earn her mensch-hood early in life. From hard experience, she's learned to be very specific about the "rules" she lays down for her younger brother: toys do not go in the fishtank, when outside you can take off your shirt but not pants, etc. Still, she longs for normalcy and embarrassment-free friendships. She shares the usual adolescent fears of being viewed as an oddball. A developing friendship with a young paraplegic, however, has the effect of putting a lot of self-consciousness into perspective.

The London Eye Mystery by Siobhan Dowd skews a little closer to The Curious Incident in that its ASD character is intent on solving an actual mystery. Ted takes a clear-eyed analytical approach to the disappearance of his cousin Salim after a holiday ride on the London Eye. Stressed-out family members shunt Ted aside to keep him from upsetting Salim's mom with what they are sure will be inappropriate comments. Older sister Kat has a particularly short-fuse where Ted is concerned, and takes pain to coach him in important people skills (aka, lying). Later she comes to recognize the value of his unique perspective. The mystery is a good one, with many clues a young reader can reason through, but enough twists to keep the pages turning.

With ASDs appearing in something like one in every 150 births, the ASD character is bound to turn up with increasing regularity in our classrooms and in children's literature. Get used to it. Better yet, appreciate it.

We're baaaaaack . . .

It isn't over! Blogging is fun -- and gives one an excuse for a "virtual high-five." We have been at our district tech camp for the past couple of days. This is an oasis of tech support with mini-lessons offered on demand but mostly the gift of time to get a handle on all one's onerous little tech projects.

This year we have managed to get all the critical documents (for which we are responsible) onto our website. Instead of sacrificing trees we will direct all our school staff to appropriate links for district policies on internet use, selection/retention policy, etc. Even better we have set up multiple accounts on Library Thing and placed links on the website: one is for students and parents, the other for staff, with appropriate tags for each. This way we can regularly update our new book offerings and alert teachers about new holdings in their curriculum areas, recommend new read-alouds, and let the community know that their tax dollars are being well spent.

We also took an hour or so and cleaned up the old bookmark bar -- and sorted everything neatly into MyDelicious. What a wonderful tool -- and frankly easier to navigate than the browser bookmark lists as well as accessible from any computer.

Next time: Voice Thread!