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Showing posts with label Roald Dahl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roald Dahl. Show all posts

Wednesday, 22 February 2023

The Great Roald Dahl Debate

 

Roald Dahl is in the news. Even people who generally have no interest at all in children’s books have noticed. Just in case this has passed you by or you’re reading some time in the future when the whole five-minute furore is in the past, here’s a quick summary:

Roald Dahl’s books are being rereleased with edits intended to make them more acceptable to a modern audience. The reactions – from all sorts of people, including Philip Pullman and the Prime Minister – have varied from ‘You must never touch a word of a writer’s published work’ to ‘Fantastic, now children will not be exposed to Dahl's racism, body-shaming, misogyny, etc’ and ‘Couldn’t they just publish the originals with footnotes and an introduction?’ There has also been ‘Why bother? There’s nothing special about Dahl.’

Should they meddle with an author’s work? I see no reason why not. The author is dead so has nothing to say about it. His estate is perfectly happy with the changes (and the financial reward). It’s nothing new. Children’s books have been published in updated versions forever. Netflix has acquired the rights to Dahl’s work. Of course they want to make money from the books. Their press-release called the books ‘Timeless Tales’. It’s probably impossible to make a book timeless, but here they are, making them up-to-date.

I enjoyed Dahl’s books as a child. My now grown-up children liked Dahl. The BFG is my favourite. They liked Danny the Champion of the World and Matilda. They adored The Enormous Crocodile. I do not remember finding anything particularly uncomfortable in Dahl as a child. It fitted with the cartoons and sitcoms I watched on TV. But the world has moved on. We do not offer children cruelty and othering and call it humour. (Well mostly we don’t.) Toning down these aspects of Dahl will make his work fit our twenty-first century children’s book model better.

Could the publishers have added footnotes and an introduction instead? Of course they could have. And if parents or teachers were reading the books to children, these things would have been discussed, no doubt, though quite probably a parent or teacher might have commented or changed words and ideas that troubled them as they read the old versions. But here’s the thing: most children would not read footnotes or an introduction. And if they did, they would be drawn out of the story, which is something you really don’t want to do to child readers.

The good thing about Dahl is that children want to read his books. The books have bold, lively heroes and memorable baddies, shocking disasters and soaring triumphs. Children are dying to turn the pages and find out what happens. When they’ve finished one of Dahl’s books, they feel satisfied by the story and they want to pick up another. This is how children develop reading fluency – by finding books that they don’t want to put down. When my eldest daughter was six, she brought home from the school bookfair two of the Rainbow Fairy books. She wasn’t a fluent reader at the time so I read the first one to her. The second one she read a page and then I read a page. She loved those books. I found them plodding and predictable. So when I discovered that she’d bought a pack of five of them with a book token I refused to read them. She took a week to read the next one on her own. Then two days for the next one. Then one a day until she’d read them all. I’m not going to argue for the Rainbow Fairy books’ place in the canon of children’s literature, but they have a purpose and they serve it well. They can turn children into readers. And so can Dahl.

But here’s the thing. So can many other books. New books, books with modern ideas, diverse characters, current language. Books that take place in a world today’s children recognise and engage with problems, ideas and circumstances that concern them. And no, I don’t just mean issue-driven books set in a contemporary world. Fantasy, historical, sci-fi, humour – all sorts of stories are different today.

That’s not to say that children shouldn’t read children’s books from the past. I would never say that! So many wonderful, brilliant books full of amazing stories exist for children to find and adults to share with them. Children need choice just like adults do – more so, because they’re still working out what types of books suit them.

The problem with children’s books is – as it ever was – that the books are bought by adults on the whole. Adults who don’t know anything about children’s books will go for the easy option – the book they recognise from their childhood, the book by that famous bloke off the TV. And the marketing people recognise this, so they push those books. It’s an obvious win. You own a property. There’s an easy market for it. The cost to the publisher is minimal. You just change the covers, print a bunch more and there they are on the shelf looking fresh and new. If you wander into WHSmith you won’t see a shelf full of books by a single author that are 40, 50 or 60 years old in the adult section. But there in the children’s section is a whole shelf of Dahl … and another of Enid Blyton (who has undergone her own modernisation more than once). And it’s not just bookshops. A lot of school libraries rely heavily on books donated when children have grown out of them. Their shelves are groaning under the weight of Dahl.

So here’s what I think. If we have to have Dahl, let’s have updated Dahl. But let’s have lots of exciting new books front and centre too. Please, marketing people, think about how you are serving the children who learning to be readers when you constantly cash in on old books. Concentrate instead on what would serve them best in their journey to becoming readers and then work out how to market those books to the adults who buy books. Give children choice.


*Please note that this piece is my personal view.



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Wednesday, 27 April 2016

Again! Again! or How to avoid burning your child’s books

I’ve always loved children’s books. When I was first pregnant, one of the things I was looking forward to was reading picture books with my child. But I discovered that small children have dubious taste and that they love repetition. Really love it. ‘Let’s read a book!’ I would say, cheerily, to my small daughter. And before I had a chance to lay my hand on something fabulous by the Ahlbergs or Lauren Child or Julia Donaldson, or any of the marvellous, clever, beautiful picture books that exist, she would produce Tinky Winky’s Bag from somewhere or other. (This was some years ago. I suppose it is possible that you may have missed out on Tinky Winky. He was one of the Teletubbies and featured in a TV programme for pre-schoolers).

‘What about Each Peach Pear Plum?’ I would say, weakly. ‘Or Where the Wild Things Are?’

‘I want this one,’ she’d say, settling herself on my lap.

There was no persuading her. Every time we sat down we had to read Tinky Winky’s Bag. I might get away with reading one or two other books as well. But sometimes I had to read Tinky Winky’s Bag twice.

I hated that book. I hated every word of it. I hated the expressionless faces of the characters, the repetitive text, the sheer dullness of it. The funny thing was, I quite liked the TV programme. There was a charming randomness about what happened in it; it seemed to me to reflect the experiences of little kids in a completely engaging way. We never missed it, even the repeats.

I tried various ways to avoid reading The Book.

‘Daddy loves this book,’ I would say. ‘He’ll read it when he comes home.’

‘OK,’ she’d say. ‘He can read it to me then. You read it now.’

‘How about you read it to me?’ I’d say. ‘You know all the words.’

‘Don’t be silly, Mummy,’ she’d laugh. ‘I can’t read.’

So what happened was this. First The Book fell apart. She picked it up one day and the cover fell off. It was pretty ratty-looking by this stage. You should have seen her: a picture of misery. So, of course, I mended it. And then I read it to her.

Then it fell apart again. When I was tidying up. After she was in bed. And the fire was lit. And so… You know what I did, don’t you? I threw it in the fire.

To this day, my husband guilt-trips me about this. He says this was Wrong (with a capital W). He says it was a mean thing to do to a child. He went on quite a bit about Burning Books.

But you know what? She never even looked for it. It wasn’t there and she wasn’t bothered. Suddenly we were reading the Ahlbergs and the Julia Donaldsons and the Quentin Blakes and all the other glorious, riotous, silly, funny, clever, imaginative stories. There never was another one that stuck the way Tinky Winky’s Bag had though. But I think maybe it was a stage that she had to go through, like all those other reading stages that you’d like to hurry your children through, the one when they have to read every single book in the Beast Quest or the Rainbow Fairies series, the one when they seem to be unable to see the value in anything that makes them read slowly enough to stop and think.

I managed to avoid another Tinky Winky’s Bag with my two other daughters. I’d like to think that this was judicious book management on my part, but I suspect it was simply that my older daughter was listening in and wouldn’t put up with anything as boring as that.

My advice? If your child loves a book that you hate, try hiding it for a day or two in the first instance. If they’re not bothered, get rid of it. If they are, ‘find’ it again and try to make sure someone else gets the job of reading it to them.

If there are older children around, get them to read. Either they won’t mind the boring book or they’ll tell the younger child that it’s rubbish. Chances are the younger child will be happy to accept their opinion.

You could also try not buying any picture books at all, but going to the library instead. That way you have to take all the books back every week or so, so nothing’s ever going to get the chance to turn into a Tinky Winky’s Bag.

That’s not that realistic though, is it? Who can resist a picture book? Just make sure you buy the best you can find – it’s not that hard, there are so many out there.

Ten of my family’s favourite picture books
(i.e. those that sprang to the minds of my daughters and me immediately the question was posed – we didn’t ask Dad, who’d probably have added Tinky Winky’s Bag)

Each Peach Pear Plum                        Janet and Allan Ahlberg

The Gruffalo                                       Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler

Pants                                                   Giles Andrae and Nick Sharratt

Bread and Jam for Frances                 Russell and Lilian Hoban

Guess How Much I Love You           Sam McBratney and Anita Jeram

Cowboy Baby                                     Sue Heap

Queenie the Bantam                           Bob Graham

Mrs Armitage, Queen of the Road     Quentin Blake

The Enormous Crocodile                    Roald Dahl and Quentin Blake

Dear Zoo                                             Rod Campbell