What is children’s literature and why should we read it and study it?
Björn Sundmark
To begin to answer these questions we must begin by asking what literature is, and how it is commonly understood. The word literature means “letter.” It suggests that literature is anything written. However, this seems too wide and too limiting at the same time. Too wide, since it would include everything written, including shopping lists, and unintelligible print; too limiting, since it excludes, on the one hand, traditional oral genres, such as folktales, epic verse, and songs, while, on the other hand, modern narrative forms, such as audiobooks, TV, film, and computer-based
storytelling likewise would fail to qualify as “literature.” Even a book genre like the “wordless picturebook” would have to be excluded if the definition of literature as writing were to be applied rigorously.
So, what to do?
First of all, the term literature needs to be delimited and qualified. To most people, literature is not a neutral or clinical term – it implies something good and valuable. This is quite natural, since writing historically has been reserved for words that are meant to last (religious scripts, economical transactions, legal documents etc) and which involved a technology and a level of literacy that was costly and only accessible to the élites.
But what words can be considered good and valuable today? Here a number of possibilities present themselves, both practical, aesthetical and ethical. It could be how well words communicate information (the rhetorical function). The quality could reside in the language itself (the poetic function of language). Or in the narrative dimension, how well the words represent (and recreate) life and world (the mimetic function). Both the poetic and mimetic dimensions have to do with the aesthetic. For many the practical and aesthetic is enough. But I would argue that poems and stories are much more than that; they are the tools we have to understand and create our world, and to make sense of our lives. Without them, the world is empty and our existence meaningless. Through literature we may understand history and society – where we come from, what we are, and what we may one day become. We also learn about ourselves and others (psychology and morals) when we connect to the communal memory and mind that is literature. Thus, (good) literature make us more whole, more human. That too is a criterion.
This definition, however, does not stipulate that the words must be presented in a printed book to e literature. In principle, it could be in any form, genre or medium. And in contemporary society, there is no question that just as the book ousted oral storytelling once upon a time, audiovisual storytelling (TV, film, PC) has supplanted writing as the main narrative form today. But
just as oral storytelling retains certain advantages over silent reading, books are superior to newer media technology in others. Reading is the closest we can come to mind reading. When we read we access directly the scripted words and thoughts of the author. It is at once a deeply private
experience, and one of sharing. The words, moreover, ignite in us our own imagination; we have to supply our own images and emotions to supplement those of the author. If we see a film, the images are already there; they steer and (eventually) starve our imagination. Nor do we have any control of the pacing of the story. A book, moreover, is still the most economical and precise way of telling a story.
These are some of the reasons why I would argue that literature primarily is to do with books. As I have argued, I do not per definition exclude other forms and genres and media. But because of the historical connection between literature and books, and for the primacy and excellence o f the written, printed word when it comes to stimulating and educating the imagination, I will hold on to the traditional view of literature and books.
Finally, literature as a term is often reserved for fiction. I think this is too limiting. First of all, because it is often impossible to draw the line between fiction and nonfiction. Biography and history are essentially stories or presented, the only difference being their claim to veracity. Even science books make frequent use of fiction strategies. Conversely, fictional genres often aim to strengthen the mimetic-realistic aspect to help readers “suspend disbelief” and think of it as real. Moreover, the aesthetic dimension can certainly be well developed in nonfiction books.
What then distinguishes children’s literature from literature in general?
Again, what seems like an innocent and simple question, turns out to be rather complicated when scrutinized. And again, it has to be further dissected. One view is that we should we think of children’s literature as literature written, published and bought for children, that it is the intention that matters. This is of course the most common definition of children’s literature, but it ignores the problem there are very many books not written for children, but which children read and enjoy nevertheless. Some of these books, such as Ivanhoe or Robinson Crusoe have even become
children’s books over time, even if that was not the intention. On the other hand, there are also very many books written for children, which fail as children’s books – they do not work as children’s books, and children don’t like them or understand them. What about such books? Are they still children’s books?
Others define children’s books as books actually read by children (the so called “childist” approach). But this definition is also problematic since there always be children who are very precocious readers, just as there are adults who never read any books at all. But even if there are fifteen year-olds who can read James Joyce and Leo Tolstoy, this does not make Ulysses and War and
Peace children’s books. (There is of course also the added issue of what is a child. According to the UN you are a child until you are 18 years of age. But when you are 17 there are hardly any books that are too challenging, if you are a reader.)
A third take on what is children’s literature is that it is literature written by children. Few would seriously argue for this standpoint, but it is actually the only definition that is in line with how most other forms of writing is defined. After all, Swedish literature is presumably written by Swedish writers, cook books written by cooks, women’s literature by female authors etc. Only children’s literature is regularly written by representatives of another social or professional category. Of course, such a definition would be impractical. Moreover, many actual child writers, like Anne Frank, or Jane Austen (in her Juvenilia) did not write what we commonly think of as children’s literature.
My own view of children’s literature is practical and functional, rather than categorical: nine times out of ten children’s literature is literature for children, but I believe that the childist approach is useful as a corrective, and if one wants to know more about the child perspective on literature (for instance in reception studies). The second and third perspective could also be combined in assessing what children actually read and write.
Why should we study children’s literature?
When the French critic Roland Barthes was asked why one should study literature he answered: “only literature should be studies.” By this he meant that it is through literature that we can
understand what we are – both as individuals and as a society. All other disciplines and sciences are derivative and peripheral to the study of literature. Another thinker, Northrop Frye, has argued that it is through literature that we educate our imagination. And the faculty to imagine things, is a precondition for society and civilization, for our ability to create, and communicate. We have a choice, he says, between having an uneducated or educated imagination. It is through literature that we educate our imagination.
All of the above applies, of course, to children’s literature as well. Only to a much greater extent. The education of the imagination is a lifelong project, but the early years are decisive. That is when the greatest steps are taken; that is when the crucial breakthroughs are made. Moreover, these are the children’s book that stay with us through life. What we read as adults can be good or bad, but they hardly ever have life-changing effects or makes us mature and develop the same way as children’s literature has the potential to do.
Thus, children’s literature is not inferior to literature in general; it is superior. It is more important than so called adult literature.
For this reason – because it is so important – children’s literature must be studied. The better we understand children’s books, the better we know what brings joy and learning, what brings out the best in us. It educates our imagination. It provides a map for the future.
