The iconoclastic nature of young adult literature began in the 1960s, with writers tackling subjects once forbidden.
A Role for Children’s Literature
Michelle Ann Abate is an associate professor of English at Hollins University in Virginia. Her most recent book is “Raising Your Kids Right: Children’s Literature and American Political Conservatism.”
Updated December 26, 2010, 7:00 PM
While the popularity of somber young adult books like “The Hunger Games” trilogy have raised questions about the nature of current narratives for young readers, children’s literature has long engaged with weighty cultural issues, complex sociopolitical concerns, and even graphic violence.
Such elements permeate even the Victorian era, commonly credited with romanticizing children and “sanitizing” children’s literature. “Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland,” “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” and “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” all are loaded with social commentary and sharp political satire.
That said, the tone and content of children’s literature did experience a transformation in the 1960s and 1970s. Fueled by societal beliefs that adults ought to be more honest and open with children, new narratives began pushing the boundaries of acceptable themes and suitable subject matters.
Once-taboo topics like violence in S. E. Hinton’s “The Outsiders” (1967), sexuality in books like Judy Blume’s “Forever” (1975), and death in Katherine Paterson’s “Bridge to Terabithia” (1977) became increasingly acceptable. Because many of these books addressed what were considered “social problems” (juvenile delinquency or adolescent sexuality) they were deemed “problem novels;” and because many were aimed at a teenage audience, they were deemed "young adult" novels. Thus the young adult genre has been linked with social, political, and cultural concerns ever since.
The iconoclastic nature of young adult literature continues to this day. Fueled by boutique presses, the growth of niche markets, and promotion and sales opportunities on the Internet, books for children of all ages — not just those considered “young adult” — now discuss topics which had previously been ignored or even forbidden. With subjects ranging from marijuana use in Ricardo Cortés's picture book “It’s Just a Plant” to oral sex in Alex Sanchez’s novel “Rainbow Boys,” these books push the boundaries of children’s literature in daring directions.
Some parents, teachers and critics praise the steady turn toward realism in children’s literature, celebrating efforts to be more honest with young people. Others, however, are alarmed by it.
As I discuss in “Raising Your Kids Right: Children’s Literature and American Political Conservatism,” a growing sense among many that books for younger readers have become increasingly liberal (in every sense of that word) has sparked a countermovement. And that has given rise to a sub-genre of works ranging from William Bennett’s anthology “The Book of Virtues” to Bill O’Reilly’s “The O’Reilly Factor for Kids” to the “Left Behind” series for kids — which aims to offset what they see as the alarmingly graphic, excessively permissive, and plainly “left-wing” agenda of contemporary children’s books by conveying more “traditional” values and conservative political beliefs.
This struggle over the role of children’s literature is not new. Since the appearance of works for young readers, authors, parents and critics have debated these questions: Is the role of these books to educate young people about the world in which they live, including its unpleasant aspects. Or, is it their responsibility to shield children from such elements? Our answer depends on our social perception of children and the cultural construction of childhood.