Volume 33 Nº 1 - February 1997
Australian adolescent fiction of the 1990s: a decline from a glorious past?
Maureen Nimon
There are many people in Australia committed to promoting quality children's literature. Some of them act from professional concern as teachers and librarians and pursue the goal through organisations such as AATE, ALEA, ALIA and IBBY 1. The Children's Book Council of Australia, however, is the body which has been pre-eminent in sponsoring the publication of good children's books by Australian authors through its system of annual awards. It is an organisation which includes in its membership not only teachers, librarians, publishers and authors, but also parents who do not fit into any of these professional categories. It can therefore be argued to be the organisation which exercises the most direct influence on trends in Australian children's literature.
Unity of purpose does not guarantee unanimity of opinion. Judgments as to which are good books for a particular group of children elicit diverse responses as the history of the CBC awards attests. Debate over the judges' choices is inevitable, given the range of factors which shape personal and professional taste. The potential for controversy is embedded in the process of selection as the worth of children's literature is measured by sets of criteria which, in combination, are not wholly reconcilable.
For children's literature, unique in being defined by its audience rather than form or genre, is governed by adult expectations of its functions. Children's literature is expected to possess literary merit; to model to readers excellence of form and expression. Children's literature must suit children: it must be written in language and style tailored to the skills of its intended audience and its treatment of subject should accommodate their limited experience of the world. While satisfying adult aesthetic standards and educational criteria, children's literature should give children pleasure, enveloping them in enjoyable reading experiences matched precisely to their admittedly childish tastes. Children's literature should be at once a quality product that is so cheap as to be accessible to all. Finally, children's literature should induct children into the values of their society, dramatising through narrative, codes of desirable behaviour.
While each set of criteria related to the functions is testing in its application, librarians, who are responsible for applying them simultaneously, must alight on the best balance to fit the circumstances of the time. If they follow established practice, their judgments are likely to be received as reasonable. Occasionally they will win applause, but the complexity of the task ensures that more often than not there will be many who disagree with official decisions, such as those made by the judges of the CBC annual awards.
Recently Jill Ireland asserted that the judges have strayed from the views of 'ordinary parents' (1996b, p. 9) and that many are now 'former' rather than current supporters of the Children's Book Council (1996a, p. 18). As a result of her own 'dispassionate review' of the short-listed books in the Older Readers category from 1974 to 1994 (1996a, p. 18), she finds that the titles of the 1970s and 1980s are superior to those of the 1990s:
The portraits of human society presented in the works of commended writers in the 1970s and 1980s... have balance and solidity. The characters do not merely act: they are transformed in some way by their experience. The adolescents in particular move to a more mature understanding of self and the world. Life, with all its difficulties, is seen as redeemable - able to be made into something better (1996a, pp. 18 - 19).
Ireland extends her case that the 'view of life' in the earlier books is superior to contemporary titles by specifying the values and attitudes she considers characteristic of both groups (1996a, p. 19). The focus of her concern is highlighted in a letter to the editor of Quadrant which she opens with the rhetorical question, 'Are there no ethical boundaries in children's literature?'.
Thus all the issues which Ireland raises stem from the moral values she perceives to be embedded in the books she appraises. Her position is predicated on the assumption that good books for children are books which support the morality which Australians hold to be the necessary core of a good society.
It is hard to believe that there is any member of the Children's Book Council who would disagree with Ireland on this fundamental point. There are many, however, who find her interpretation of the morality advocated in today's books to be opposed to their own. Moreover, the divergence between her interpretations and those of others is compounded by disagreements as to concepts of audience and narrative techniques.
By choosing to look at books in the category of Books for Older Readers from 1974 to 1994, Ireland at once sets the basis of her discussion apart from that of the Children's Book Council. She chooses to treat as a single group books which the judges considered to vary so much that they inaugurated a new award. In 1974, there was no category for Older Readers. It was introduced in 1987 because the judges of that time believed that across the years there was an increase in the average age of the targeted audiences of books being submitted for judging 2. By this decision, the Children's Book Council made it clear that they considered that children's literature could be divided legitimately into books for children and those for adolescents. At present there is discussion of whether yet another division should be introduced: one for young adults 3.
The suggestion that young adults merit their own award reflects a concept of childhood, legally a period from birth to eighteen years, as a 'process of development, not a static state of being' (Pausacker 1994, p. 311). The literary consequence of such a view is that children should be subdivided into a series of audiences, loosely based on age groups, and served by varieties of literature. As Pausacker argues, it is not possible to hold that 'all "children's books" should somehow be suitable for all "children" ' (p. 309). A book which will extend an intelligent, thoughtful seventeen-year-old is almost invariably unsuited to the needs of an intelligent, thoughtful thirteen-year-old. By comparing the winners of 1974 and 1994, Ireland conflates the two in a single audience. Perhaps it is her case that the Children's Book Council should adopt the stance of the American Library Association in regard to books for young people. The committee which selects an annual list of best books for young adults on behalf of ALA predicates its choice on the belief that most people of sixteen years of age choose to read adult books (Carter 1994, p. 16). It is logical therefore that research shows that its selections are skewed towards an audience of younger teenagers ( Carter 1994, pp. 13 - 14). The outcome, however, must be a definition of young adult literature which widens the gap between it and that for adults.
Readings of text by the same person will alter with time and circumstance. Readings by different people will diverge inevitably, though writers guide readers to particular conclusions by their use of convention. I cannot prove from Rubinstein's novel that Ireland is unjustified in her claim that Space Demons portrays revenge as 'ultimately satisfying' (1996a, p. 19). Undoubtedly the plot is driven by the temptations of revenge which the characters, ordinary, fallible human beings, find alluring. I assert, though, that I find it a strange summary of a story, the resolution of which is achieved by the characters refusing to hate their enemies. I note that the award of the Peace Prize for Children's Literature to this title by the Psychologists for the Prevention of War argues that others read the text as I do 4. Again, I can find no basis in Sleeping Dogs for Ireland's claim that 'incest has authorial approval' (1996b, p. 9). Rather I agree with Campbell that 'the ugly secret at the heart of this darkly entwined family is not incest, but Griffen's anger' (1996, p. 211).
Ireland's summaries of the moral messages of contemporary Australian adolescent literature are based in part on consideration of narrative techniques. She consistently praises realism above fantasy, condemning modern Australian fantasies because their characterisation is 'generally thin' (1996a, p. 20). She does not comment on the relative weightings of plot and character in fantasy as distinct from realism, often held to distinguish the genres. Nor does she acknowledge the role of fantasy as a device by which to explore the features of social organisation rather than chart personal histories.
Ireland roundly condemns books in which characters are seen to 'escape accountability for their actions', a charge she levels at Sleeping Dogs (1996b, p .9). Clearly, accountability in her terms is a matter of being caught and punished by the authorities. Ireland's conceptualis-ation of accountability demands that adolescent literature take the form of instructive fable in which morals are unambiguous and retribution for wrong doing is exacted through the apparatus of the state - the police and the law courts.
In response to Ireland's position, it can be argued that narrative which meets such criteria implies a code of morality imposed by external powers and defined by pragmatism. An action is only wrong if you are likely to be caught and punished for it. In contrast, much of the power of Hartnett's book arises from her skill in evoking the hell to which the Willows' sins have condemned them long before Jordan's death. It is a hell which cannot be escaped and which can only be intensified by that event, wherever they go, whatever befalls them. In Hartnett's world, we cannot leave behind the consequences of our actions, whether or not the authorities catch us out. Readers are warned that they must decide for themselves the principles which will guide their lives. Hartnett's writing may be seen to be complemented by the fantasies of Deucalion and The Gathering which argue that to surrender your judgment, unthinkingly or from fear, to institutional authority is an abdication of moral responsibility.
Finally, Ireland portrays the judges who made Sleeping Dogs an Honour Book as so enslaved to ideas of quality that their better judgment was overridden: 'the judges felt that they had no choice but to short list the book on account of its "literary quality"' (1996b, p. 9). (Ireland disregards the choices of the judges in regard to the other five titles short-listed and makes no comment on their selection of the winner. Thus she does attack the judges in regard to their overall performance.) The judges, however, are supported by other authorities in their evaluation of Hartnett's title as a challenging, boundary-stretching book too important to ignore. Early in 1996, The Hornbook Magazine carried both a favourable review of Sleeping Dogs and an article by Patti Campbell who described it as 'a magnificent novel' (p. 242). Once again it seems, there are respected voices who disagree with Ireland.
As Blainey says, 'democracy is first and foremost an exercise in debating' (p. 3). Ireland's writing contributes to the debate, putting the case for constraining literature for children to the mould of instructive fable. Those who would fight any curtailment of the potential of young adult literature to educate in a liberal sense, must also take part in the discussion.
Endnotes
1. The full names of the bodies are the Australian Association for the Teaching of English, the Australian Literacy Educators' Association, the Australian Library and Information Association and the International Board of Books for Young People.
2. 1987 was the first time the label 'Book of the Year - Older Readers' was used. In 1983, however, there were two awards in addition to that of Picture Book of the Year. They were the Book of the Year and the Junior Book of the Year. These labels were used until 1987. See Prentice, J. & Bennett, B. 1992, A Guide to Australian Children's Literature , D.W. Thorpe, Port Melbourne, pp.77 - 83.
3. Sue Richmond, one of the South Australian Judges for 1995 - 6, raised the matter in a lecture given to students at the University of South Australia on 1 November 1996.
4. Every two years, the Psychologists for the Prevention of War give a prize to the title they believe most likely to help young people learn conflict resolution strategies. In 1987 the prize was awarded to Gillian Rubinstein for Space Demons.
Bibliography
Blainey, Geoffrey 1996, quoted in 'Blainey spells out error of advertising's ways', Advertiser, 6 October, Adelaide, p. 3.
Campbell, Patti 1996, 'The sand in the oyster', Hornbook, LXXII (2), pp. 240 - 3.
Carter, B. 1994, Best Books for Young Adults: The History, the Selections, the Romance , American Library Association, Chicago.
Ireland, Jill 1996a, 'Are they the best books of the year?', Reading Time, 40 (2), pp. 18 - 20.
-- 1996b, 'Written for Children?', letter to the editor, Quadrant, 40 (10), no. 330, p. 9.
Pausacker, Jenny 1994, 'Who reviews the reviewers? A survey of young adult fiction in Australia during 1992', in Agnes Nieuwenhuizen, The Written World: Youth and Literature , D.W. Thorpe, Port Melbourne, pp.302 - 20.
Prentice, J. & Bennett, B. 1992, A Guide to Australian Children's Literature , D.W. Thorpe, Port Melbourne.
