Every year thousands of children’s books are published. Typically, there’s enough competition and enough editorial involvement to ensure that if a children’s book is issued by a major publisher, it’s got some merit.
After release, there’s the additional arbiter of public demand. I’d like to discuss some children’s books that have passed these tests and have proven extremely popular… just not with me.
The Junie B. Jones series by Barbara Park has fed my children so much bad grammar that the word “ain’t“ ain’t even close to its worst offense. Junie uses words like “bestest,” “beautifuller,” “hided,” and “suffercate,” and I can’t, in good conscience, read one of these Junieisms without pausing and asking my kids, “What SHOULD it be?” A teaching moment, maybe, but also a pain in the neck when you just want to read a story and get the kids to bed.
The Captain Underpants books by Dav Pilkey have a similar issue, but instead of made-up vocabulary, the problem here is spelling. The book’s two main characters “write” parts of the story, which features “superherose” leaping tall “bildings” and fighting for “justise.” It’s all very endearing and realistic but… children’s authors? I’m trying to teach my kids to read and write correctly—please don’t make that job harder.
The late Peggy Parish, and now her nephew, Herman Parish, have written over 40 books featuring the lovable but dimwitted maid, Amelia Bedelia. The books’ stock in trade is humor based on Amelia Bedelia’s misinterpretations of common expressions. If that sounds like something you’d like to read 40 books of, let me add that the authors generally eschew pronouns and don’t believe in using anything less than Amelia Bedelia’s full name. Being forced to say “Amelia Bedelia” 64 times in a 64 page children’s book and reading sentences like, “’I’m Amelia Bedelia,’ said Amelia Bedelia,” is enough to make any parent scream.
The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein has an estimated 9 million or so copies in print. For those not familiar with the story, a tree gives a whiny kid (later seen as a whiny adult) its leaves, apples, branches and, finally, its trunk. Some see this as a (positive) parable on the joys of giving, since the tree is “happy”—even as it’s being destroyed.
Personally, I see the story as a prime example of a dysfunctional, sadomasochistic relationship—the boy takes and takes, never giving anything to the tree, and the tree gives of itself until all that’s left is a little stump. When the man sits on the stump at the end of the story, it seems like the final indignity delivered upon a tree with no sense of self-worth or self-preservation. If you asked me what would happen next, I’d say the guy gets cold and decides to set the stump on fire. The guy’s a jerk, the tree is a patsy, and I’m not a fan.
The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister is another book that seems to be trying hard to impart some earnest philosophical wisdom to its readers. One fish—the Rainbow Fish—has many glittering scales, while the other fish have only regular, non-glittery scales. When asked by a fish for one of his scales—literally a piece of himself (echoing The Giving Tree)—the Rainbow Fish refuses. The other fish then ostracize the Rainbow Fish, until the Rainbow Fish gives a glittery scale to each of the other fish, so that everyone, including the Rainbow Fish, has exactly one glittery scale. And now, we are told, the Rainbow Fish is happy.
And the lesson is… give in to bullying? Buy your friends with gifts? Reduce yourself to the lowest common denominator in order to fit in?
With The Giving Tree and The Rainbow Fish, my dissatisfaction stems from the story and the principles that seem to be espoused. Love You Forever is a book with a sweet enough concept—the ongoing bond between parent and child—but some of the creepiest passages and illustrations you’ll ever see. A mother sneaks into her teenaged son’s bedroom to secretly rock him while he sleeps; when the boy grows up and moves across town, the mother drives across town at night, crawls through his bedroom window and does it again. This book should be read in an abnormal psychology class, not held up as a model of a healthy mother-son relationship. (Thanks to my sister, a first grade teacher, for reminding me of this one.)
In defense of these books, it’s generally acknowledged that it’s better for kids to read something rather than nothing. And I have too much respect for books and free thinking in general to advocate book burning, banning or anything so extreme.
But, on the other hand, if your toddler is teething or the dog needs a new toy, and there’s a copy of The Giving Tree lying around, well… there’d still be eight million and change left.
Peter Dabbene lives and writes in Hamilton. His website is peterdabbene.com. His science-fiction graphic novel ARK (illustrated by Ryan Bayliss) and his book Spamming the Spammers (with Dieter P. Bieny) are available through amazon.com. His short, fictitious “Tough MudderF**ker Inaugural 5K Run” is viewable at weirdyear.com, and his previous Hamilton Post columns can be read at mercerspace.com/author/p-dabbene.
