CCBC-Net Archives
immutable judgments
- Contemporary messages sorted: [ by date ] [ by subject ] [ by author ]
From: Joanna Rudge Long <jrudgel>
Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1998 16:30:39 -0400
After following September's detailed and thoughtful debate on reviewing, I'll get in under the wire with one more thought. I would "stand by" most of the reviews I've written--and when I was editor at Kirkus I used to write literally hundreds each year--and yet I also stand by the importance of being open to revised opinions after further reflection or experience. A couple of cases in point: 1. I gave David Macaulay's Black and White a favorable but less than ecstatic review, writing for deadline and knowing, even after several readings, that there was more to discover about that book, which I had still to discuss as a member of the Notables Committee. Sharing it later with a fifth grade (in what should have been pessimal circumstances: an antsy class, late on a rainy day when they'd had a substitute teacher) transformed my perception. They seized on the book's ideas and connections, making it an extraordinary interactive experience and changing it forever in my eyes. Another case of transformed perception: there was something about Patricia Polacco's energetic perspectives and varied representations that distanced me from her art until I met the artist herself and heard her say that she had been a learning disabled child. My son, too, was learning disabled; seeing Polacco's work through the prism of my understanding of his difficulties and their resolution, and his associated, frequently endearing characteristics, transformed it entirely. Quite suddenly, the emotional power and depth of Polacco's illustrations became visible to me.
However carefully wrought, a review is necessarily a first look at a book that may grow, or diminish, with time, greater intimacy, and experience. And, incidentally, I'm happy to acknowledge that I've had to reconsider or been mistaken. Especially when working with children, it sends the message that it's ok to accept and integrate new information even when it makes us revise our conclusions; and, also, that it's ok to venture forth with our ideas even when we know that more facts may arise later that may make us reconsider. Finally, age itself changes our perceptions: Winnie-the-Pooh is comical to ten-year-olds but deeply serious to six-year-olds who love it just as well; and which of us reads Pride and Prejudice with the same eyes at 40 as we did at 20? With some books, each new decade provides new insights. Joanna Rudge Long
Received on Wed 30 Sep 1998 03:30:39 PM CDT
Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1998 16:30:39 -0400
After following September's detailed and thoughtful debate on reviewing, I'll get in under the wire with one more thought. I would "stand by" most of the reviews I've written--and when I was editor at Kirkus I used to write literally hundreds each year--and yet I also stand by the importance of being open to revised opinions after further reflection or experience. A couple of cases in point: 1. I gave David Macaulay's Black and White a favorable but less than ecstatic review, writing for deadline and knowing, even after several readings, that there was more to discover about that book, which I had still to discuss as a member of the Notables Committee. Sharing it later with a fifth grade (in what should have been pessimal circumstances: an antsy class, late on a rainy day when they'd had a substitute teacher) transformed my perception. They seized on the book's ideas and connections, making it an extraordinary interactive experience and changing it forever in my eyes. Another case of transformed perception: there was something about Patricia Polacco's energetic perspectives and varied representations that distanced me from her art until I met the artist herself and heard her say that she had been a learning disabled child. My son, too, was learning disabled; seeing Polacco's work through the prism of my understanding of his difficulties and their resolution, and his associated, frequently endearing characteristics, transformed it entirely. Quite suddenly, the emotional power and depth of Polacco's illustrations became visible to me.
However carefully wrought, a review is necessarily a first look at a book that may grow, or diminish, with time, greater intimacy, and experience. And, incidentally, I'm happy to acknowledge that I've had to reconsider or been mistaken. Especially when working with children, it sends the message that it's ok to accept and integrate new information even when it makes us revise our conclusions; and, also, that it's ok to venture forth with our ideas even when we know that more facts may arise later that may make us reconsider. Finally, age itself changes our perceptions: Winnie-the-Pooh is comical to ten-year-olds but deeply serious to six-year-olds who love it just as well; and which of us reads Pride and Prejudice with the same eyes at 40 as we did at 20? With some books, each new decade provides new insights. Joanna Rudge Long
Received on Wed 30 Sep 1998 03:30:39 PM CDT
