Sometimes random things pop up from the deep recesses of my brain like a flash mob of dancers in Times Square. For example, the phrases “Please don’t squeeze the Charmin; Mikey likes it, and you’re soaking in it,” along with the theme song from Welcome Back Kotter occasionally creep into my thoughts. This phenomenon happened to me while thinking about the definition of young adult literature. While trying to process its meaning, I recalled a Bible passage my cousin read at my wedding.
Love is always patient and kind; it is never jealous, love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes. Love does not come to an end.
I’m not sure that this thought was so random though. Unlike the old songs and commercial taglines for which I can offer no explanation, I can connect the bible passage to YA lit. You see, the breadth of the definition of love reminds me of the ubiquitousness of YAL.
The Bible passage discusses attributes of love without nailing down a specific definition; much the same way we toss around the features of young adult literature without creating concrete meaning. While it is clear that YA lit can be defined as literature geared toward young adults, what does this actually signify? I look for lucidity and consistency, yet I’m not sure it exists. YAL is not something we can neatly compartmentalize. We couch the term in a way that lumps together all novels aimed at a single age group. Not only is the definition of YA lit problematic, but the definition of “young adult” poses equal trouble. “Historically the designation “young adult” is based on audience. Isn’t that odd? We define no other art form that I can think of by its primary audience. Paintings? No. Sculpture? No. Music? No. Audience is a moving target. We can’t even agree on what a young adult is, let alone what the literature is” (Roxburgh, 2004.) As Aronson sees it, “A book a teenager should read is any book” (p. 96). Well, that certainly doesn’t raise the bar as far as criteria go, does it? But Aronson does say that a young adult book is one that presents “art and ideas in a fashion that communicates especially well to teenagers” (p. 96). O.k., now we have something to work with. A cross between the ideals of the art illuminatos and the moralists could well be a keystone of YA lit. Building on this notion, educators must determine what role YA lit plays in the English classroom. How much should educators concern themselves with the ethical message a book brings to a teenage reader? Aronson substantiates that researchers have not been able to confirm or deny that young readers are influenced by acts or language in a text, and apparently it is not much of an issue. To that end, we must trust that our students are mature enough to deal with adult subject matter and language. Compelling novels must provide some sort of transformation, no matter how small, to the reader--a new insight into something or a reframing of his or her original view. This makes perfect sense since we know that for learning to take place, students must undergo transformation.
As English teachers, however, we must consider the pure intellectual quality of the writing. Do we need to find a writing style that fits distinctly within canonical literature? I am inclined to say no. Teens want to read text with a sophisticated style of writing, interesting plots, and good character development. Perhaps the best way to integrate YAL into the English classroom would be to use it to try to create text-to-text connections. If we challenge students to make connections between “interesting” novels and traditional literature, for example, the themes of love and dreams in A Midsummer’s Night Dream could easily be connected to most YA novels, we can broaden the appeal of literature. By exposing students to YA and, well, let’s just call them less interesting novels, we can get our students to appreciate not only YA lit, but all lit.
I too was struck in our readings with the difficulty in defining YAL. In fact, I almost entitled my entry "A Moving Target," a phrase you reference in your entry. I agree with you; the definition of YAL seems so obvious, but it isn't apparently. I especially agree with your notion that connecting text-to-text may be the way to take full advantage of YAL's promise. The only YAL "models" I have ever observed in my years has been the coupling of a YAL book with a piece of canonized literature. For example, our junior curriculum suggests dovetailing Jerry Spinelli's Stargirl with the works of Emerson and Thoreau. You may be right that the gateway to "great" literature (I hate what I'm implying there) may be YAL.
ReplyDeleteI think your text to text connections is a great way to build on the recommendations that many have made about using YAL as a bridge or gateway to the classics, Maureen. I like the idea of engaging teens in the process of making those connections. In fact, wouldn't it be a cool project to have teens read a classic with the goal of finding YA titles that they can connect? A recent example, the Printz winner last year was Libba Bray's Going Bovine which can be compared to a contemporary Don Quixote. An amazing book!
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