If you didn’t know, Derek and I are passionate about children’s literature. So several months ago, I had a long conversation with some dear friends about what kinds of books we’re having our kids read. Derek and I want our kids only to read books that are both morally and aesthetically excellent. Some of our friends don’t find the latter half of that important. I would rather have my kids read well-written literature with loveably flawed protagonists who learn from their mistakes than poorly written literature with morally uncompromised characters. Some parents feel the opposite. That sets up an interesting question of what constitutes moral literature and why the quality of the writing (and illustrating) matters to us as much as the content. The ensuing conversation and debate over our ideas sent me on a journey of researching homeschooling book lists, rereading my childhood favorites, studying Christian commentaries on the arts, and trying to organize my thoughts into a coherent format. This post is the first in a series on my (and Derek’s) standards for children’s literature. I’ll try to post a couple sections a week for the next several weeks. Our literary philosophy is still a work in progress, so I welcome questions, comments, and criticisms from my friends!
First, I think it’s important to define what Derek and I consider to be morally excellent literature. Today we’ll look at our requirements for the books that our kids are reading now.
For young children, literature should reflect Truth.
We want our children to read books that reflect the reality of God’s creation. Mankind is fallen, there are consequences for sin, and we are saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. What does this look like in practical terms? We don’t think that every book the kids read should have the gospel message spelled out explicitly. Jesus isn’t mentioned by name in most of our current favorites. But whatever level of plot there is (whether it’s about a little bunny enjoying a beautiful spring day, a little girl whose Mommy won’t let her get lost on Blueberry Hill, a frog and a toad who enjoy a sweet friendship, or four orphan children living in a boxcar who discover that their grandfather loves them), it shouldn’t undermine the truth of God’s world that we work so hard to instill in our kids.
We don’t want the kids’ literature to be amoral. If a character sins, there should be consequences for his actions. If a bunny disobeys his mommy, trouble should probably result. If a little badger has a bad attitude about a friend, it should cause her discomfort until she makes peace. If a little girl hits her sister, she shouldn’t get away with it. When I see a book in which disobedience or bad attitude is not addressed, I do not read it to the kids. Notice that we don’t mind if the characters are imperfect as long as sin is shown to cause trouble.
Our friends ask, isn’t there a danger in making those naughty characters too loveable? Well, that’s kindof our point. Tommy relates to Peter Rabbit, Frances the badger, and Laura Ingalls because he sins in the same way they do on a daily basis. Their struggles are his struggles, and like him, they discover that they can’t get away with naughtiness. In the Bible, we have one perfect example and a whole lot of flawed examples of how not to do things. God didn’t hold back from giving us stories with sinful participants. On the other hand, I have a hard time with books where the protagonist is unrealistically good. Not only can we not relate, but I don’t want my kids believing that children can be perfect if they just try hard enough. Virtue doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and books written by well-meaning Christians to extol certain “character qualities” are often simplistic and flawed. I don’t think they exhibit the reality of man’s depravity as easily understood by my three year old. I’ll do a whole separate post later on why Elsie Dinsmore and similar Victorian-era sentimental literature with perfect children concerns me.
Thoughts? Responses? Tomorrow I’ll talk a bit about where this leads as the kids get older…
(to part two)
love this post. Are you really already reading The Boxcar Children and the Little House books to Tommy?? You’d love to talk to my friend, Sarah. Maybe next time you’re out here we can all meet for tea. She just last year wrote a wonderful book on children’s books: Read for the Heart: Whole Books for WholeHearted Families
You’d also love books by her mom: The Mission of Motherhood: Touching Your Child’s Heart for Eternity, The Ministry of Motherhood: Following Christ’s Example in Reaching the Hearts of Our Children, Seasons of a Mother’s Heart; and dad: Our 24 Family Ways
[links edit: DTM]
Emily, this is fantastic! I’ve been starting to think more deeply about a similar topic, so this is very timely and should help me organize my thoughts as you articulate yours 🙂 I look forward to reading more of your posts on this subject… and talking with you again soon, Lord-willing!
Christina–Yes on both series–a friend told me her 3 1/2 year old son was listening in as she read Boxcar Children to her 5 year old, so we tried it this spring with Tommy. He loved it, and now he and Derek have read 3 or 4 more in the series, just a couple chapters before bed every night. The good thing about the early Boxcar Children and Little House books (as well as Charlotte’s Web, Stuart Little, etc) is that there are enough pictures throughout the chapter to keep their attention as they’re still learning to listen to chapter books. Obviously we’ve trained him now so that he’s willing to sit still for half an hour. At first it was maybe one chapter, then off to play!
And these books by your friend and her parents look really great–more to add to my reading list! Thanks! =)
Katie–can’t wait to discuss thoughts with you. Phone date soon!
You’ve articulated well something that’s been rolling around in my brain for a while now, and I completely agree. I think one of the hardest decisions as a parent must be how much to “shelter” children from the world and evil and how much to let them see the ugliness that results from sin. I’ll have to remember your standard (someday :). Thanks for sharing your wisdom!
Must all stories eschew unrealistically good protagonists?
Jesus’ parables include characters like the Good Samaritan and a King who invites the rabble to his wedding feast. Neither of these protagonists display human frailty or struggle with temptation to sin.
Now, it is an entirely fair point that Jesus wasn’t attempting to compose great literature–the Parable of the Good Samaritan is a didactic story teaching the meaning of the term “neighbor”–but not all stories are intended as realistic pictures of reality.
Perhaps the Elsie Dinsmore books ought be measured not for their literary realism, but for how they function as pedagogical aides in cultivating character traits.
Keith, you’re right that there are certainly examples of Biblical characters who who especially Christ-like character traits, and I believe (and know from experience!) that characters like the Good Samaritan are realistic portrayals of how God’s grace can help us act. Trying desperately to get away from Elsie, several of my favorite children’s literature characters show quite sanctified lives–Marton Nagy (the father and title character in The Good Master), David and Eunice Worth in They Loved to Laugh, Marmee in Little Women, to mention a few. I don’t remember seeing any of these characters sin. I do think their holiness is evident throughout those books, but it’s not unrealistic. I know people like them. Unrealistically good protagonists (eg, eight year olds without a sin nature) do not accurately reflect the reality of God’s creation.
Taking it down a notch to the kinds of books I’m reading to Elizabeth right now, many of her favorites don’t involve sin at all. I suppose you could call Goodnight Moon and Make Way for Ducklings morally neutral, but I put them in the “morally good” camp because what they say about the world (such as it is) is true. I don’t want to come across as saying I require an overtly sinful protagonist in every story I read my children–at their level, that is not always applicable.