I was thinking the other day about how, in so many children’s books, the hero finds they have hidden powers. I think it’s one of the aspects of children’s books I love the most, and loved especially as a child myself – the sense that, however ordinary you felt you were, there might be this magical ability hidden inside you, or some unexpected aspect of your character, just waiting for the right opportunity, the right trigger, to reveal itself.
In one of my favourite books as a child, Charmed Life by Diana Wynne Jones, Cat Chant discovers, after many trials and mix-ups, that he’s an enchanter – from being a child who could do absolutely no magic, he becomes one who can make almost anything happen by just telling it to. In Susan Cooper’s The Dark is Rising, Will discovers he’s an Old One, and learns to use his new powers to fight the Dark. And Harry Potter, ordinary downtrodden child, finds he is really a wizard, and a very special one at that.
But in more mundane ways, many children’s books chart the ways their protagonists learn to draw on hidden strengths or find reserves of bravery, intelligence, compassion, understanding, or determination to overcome obstacles and win through in difficult or challenging circumstances.
In The Lord of the Rings, for example, it is the 'children' of the book, the hobbits, who really save Middle Earth - and they do so by finding in themselves the sort of courage, grit, compassion, confidence and ability to survive that they'd never have dreamed of in sleepy Hobbiton. The change in them is made gloriously manifest in their final return to the Shire and the battle with Sharkey.
In essence, these sorts of stories tell their readers – you can be amazing! It’s a great message for children – indeed, for any reader. It says, nothing about you is fixed, you don’t have to accept that you are only ever going to be this person or that person. Round the corner, an adventure might be waiting that will draw out of you all sorts of things – that will change you into a kind of hero, with new and unexpected powers. No matter that you are not top of the class, or ‘gifted and talented’, no matter that you think of yourself as ‘ordinary’ – there’s always hope.
This kind of transformative possibility in children’s books seems to me to be the very opposite of tragedy. In tragedies, most often, it’s the inherent flaws in the protagonist’s character that lead to the inevitable tragic outcome. Hamlet’s total introspection, his inability to stop dithering; Othello’s insane jealousy; Coriolanus’s pride; or in the classic Greek tragedies, the hero’s hubris, or their rigidity, or the inevitable repercussions of one terrible action. There’s a feeling of watching a slow motion train crash – nothing stops the slide towards mutual destruction because none of the characters are capable of changing who they are. When I was in my twenties, life sometimes felt exactly like this, and when it did, my best friend and I used to wail: ‘Aargh - I’m in an Iris Murdoch novel!’
![](https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R4P1qzf2d4I/U144Va00S3I/AAAAAAAAAQA/rM-qj87Trzk/s1600/irismurdoch.jpeg)
In much adult literature events unfold in this way – the characters, like Martin Luther, ‘can do no other’, they react to each other and to events in ways that drive the plot forward, and it’s not very often that one of them finds a hidden power that solves the tangle they’ve all got themselves into. For me, then, tragedy is a quintessentially grown-up (‘literary’) form of literature, about people working through the consequences of who they are, who they have become. But children are always becoming, and so children’s literature seems to me in its purest form the very opposite of tragedy – characterised not by comedy, but a kind of positive hopefulness, an expectation of finding some new, positive aspect of yourself which explodes into the plot and turns it on its head.
This seems especially important to me now, when schools – even primary – are riddled with exams and tests and gradings: children, according to Ofsted good practice, should know exactly what National Curriculum Level they are (a 3a, or a 4b) and why they aren’t yet at the next level up. There is only one path allowed: three points of progress in academic work per school year. Ofsted is not interested in whether you might, in the meantime, have fought dragons, or learnt to conjure a whirlwind.
As with all generalisations, I’m sure people will find exceptions and caveats, and I don’t at all mean to be prescriptive. It’s not that I think all children’s books must conform to this model – but for me, the ‘ideal type’, if you like, of a children’s book, is that it has this sort of transformative hope at its centre. And the ideal anti-type is the tragedy.
C.J. Busby writes funny, fast paced fantasy for primary age children.
Her latest book,
Deep Amber, is a multiple worlds adventure for 8-12, published March 2014 by Templar.
'This is an adventure... here are runes and swords and incredibly stupid knights in armour – enjoy!' (ABBA Reviews: Read the rest of the review
here).
Website:
www.cjbusby.co.ukTwitter:
@ceciliabusby
I'm sure this is all over the blogosphere by now... I can't even remember who spoke at my college graduation. What a treat this must have been!
Apparently not everyone was thrilled. Like this guy, "...They should have picked a leader to speak at commencement. Not a children's writer. What does that say to the class of 2008? Are we the joke class?"
Hmmm... so children's books are a joke? Perhaps he'd rather they just watch more TV. It sounds to me as if this guy could use a little bit more imagination in his life. As could many leaders. Given the state the of the world today, wouldn't more imagination be a good thing for everyone?
(**–J.K. Rowling, Harvard Commencement Address 2008)
So funny you posted this Jennifer. I saw her speech and loved it. I added it to my profile in facebook. I wanted to find a way to post in on the blog without a link but couldn't.
She gives such an amazing speech.. very very inspiring. I had to watch it little by little.. as my internet was so slow, it froze every second..it was so annoying but I had to listen to it. So I waited for ever and finally was able to see it.
And about the comment, I'm with you.. I'm sure he felt differently after hearing her speech though.
Hi Alicia- I saw it on You tube, too, but it was in 3 parts, so I figured the link would be easier.
Yes, amazing speech! I'm going to watch it again. Oh that is painful watching video with a slow connection!
And yes, I hope that guy changed his mind!
Great speech! Very inspiring!
Those naysayers have let the Harvard name taint their broader views, and become the status seekers that few will envy in the future. My favorite quote was this:
"'They'll grow up," says 1983 graduate David Epstein. "They'll have a broader worldview and they'll understand that there are many, many ways to contribute. You know what they say — the freshman bring so much, and the seniors take away so little.'"
Thanks for sharing!
Think of all the wonderful, brilliant children's writers.
EB White
Lewis Carroll
Roald Dahl
E.Nesbit
and so on and so forth- whoever complained can't be a very thoughtful person.
A bit sad really.
Hi Tom- Yes, that quote says a lot. I mean, wisdom comes from all areas-- why close yourself off, you know?
Elizabeth-- Yep. It was the insinuation that children's books are unimportant that really got to me. So much for growing the minds of the next generation, huh!