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Prejudice against series
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From: K.T. Horning <horning_at_education.wisc.edu>
Date: Fri, 05 Aug 2011 09:40:52 -0500
Monica Ediger writes: My impression from my limited perch as a fourth grade teacher in one private school is that the prejudice against series is much reduced these days. That is, I well remember having to reassure parents whose girls were excellent readers, but who wanted to read only Babysitter Club books or Sweet Valley High. That is rarely the case these days.
Historically, there was a strong prejudice against formula series books in libraries, and they were traditionally not purchased. As a kid growing up in the 1960s, I got most of my books from the public and school library, and neither one had Nancy Drew or Happy Hollisters (two of the series I read). But I could find literary series like the Katie John books at both libraries. In order to get formula series books we had to buy them (usually used copies at rummage sales) or borrow them from friends who were lucky enough to own them. Occasionally, we'd receive the latest favorite series book as a gift. That is how I got exactly one Happy Hollisters book (The Secret of the Lucky Coins) and one Nancy Drew Book (The Mystery of the 99 Steps) in their shiny new editions. All were hardcover, by the way, in those days. There was something about the fact that the library didn't carry them, and they were not "adult-sanctioned" that made them more attractive. And there was a small bit of peer pressure involved in reading
them.
I remember as a kid understanding the difference between Nancy Drew and Katie John, other than the fact that my library didn't carry the former. The formula stood out to me as a young reader, beginning with the repeated descriptions of character -- "titian-blonde" Nancy, her "distinguished" father, her friends Bess, who was "pleasingly plump" and George who "enjoyed her boyish name," not to mention the little blue "roadster" that Nancy zipped around in. These were all such unusual words and descriptions that their repeated use made them stand out to me, even when I was eight. And then came the day I noticed that Nancy never "said" anything -- she always chirped, remarked, exclaimed, cried, declared, insisted, retorted, piped up, or chimed in. Once I noticed that, I could no longer enjoy the books, except to laugh at them -- which I did. My sister and I used to read them aloud to make fun of the writing. We also wrote parodies of them to entertain each other.
By the time I first started working as a librarian in the 1980s, the informal ban against series books had been dropped, but there were still old-school librarians who argued against spending public money on such "trash." By then, formula series were mostly available as paperback originals, so they didn't cost as much, and we could argue that there was a great public demand for them. We tried to keep up with the demand by stocking multiple paperback copies of the most popular and most requested series books, but we didn't replace them when they wore out. Usually by the time the last copies of a series needed to be weeded due to poor condition, kids' interest in the series has also worn thin, and they were on to The Next Big Thing.
And, yes, we did have parents in those years (1980s-90s) wanting reassurance that the Goosebumps books were okay for their sensitive darlings, or that a daughter raised on a steady diet of Babysitters Club would still be able to read Pride and Prejudice one day. I always encouraged parents to read one of the series books themselves to see what it was like, and discuss the book with their child to find out why they liked it. I think most adults were surprised, for example, to learn that Goosebumps wasn't that scary, and that there was a lot of humor in the series.
As a librarian what I appreciated about the series books is that because they were frequently checked out, children would have to approach me for help in checking our holdings or placing a hold on the book they wanted. This gave me a chance to interact with them a bit. I noticed, for example, that they nearly always asked for the book by number, e.g. "Do you have #67 in the Goosebumps series?" I would always ask them how many books they had read in the series and whether they had read any of them more than once. And sometimes I would tell them I hadn't read any books in the series but I wanted to read one. Would I need to start with #1? Was there one book in the series they thought was the best one that they would recommend? Their responses were interesting to me. They always seemed to know how many of the books they had read, and they had rarely read one more than once, unless they had nothing else to read. As for recommending something for me, as I recall, without fail they all responded that the order of the series didn't matter. I could start with #1 or #32 or whatever was available. And I can't recall a single child who could name a favorite book in the series. I would generally get an answer like, "No, they are all pretty much the same. It doesn't really matter which one you read."
So it's interesting to me to read that today there is no concern about kids reading formula series books. I think that's a good thing, so long as the kids themselves are freely choosing them to read for pleasure. But do you notice kids having interactions around the series books they are reading, as we were pretty much forced to do when we borrowed them from each other, or as kids a generation ago did in having to negotiate with their parents for permission to read them?
KT
-- Kathleen T. Horning Director Cooperative Children's Book Center (CCBC) 4290 Helen C. White Hall 600 N. Park St Madison, WI 53706 http://www.education.wisc.edu/ccbc horning_at_education.wisc.edu 608-263-3721 (phone) 608-262-4933 (fax)
Received on Fri 05 Aug 2011 09:40:52 AM CDT
Date: Fri, 05 Aug 2011 09:40:52 -0500
Monica Ediger writes: My impression from my limited perch as a fourth grade teacher in one private school is that the prejudice against series is much reduced these days. That is, I well remember having to reassure parents whose girls were excellent readers, but who wanted to read only Babysitter Club books or Sweet Valley High. That is rarely the case these days.
Historically, there was a strong prejudice against formula series books in libraries, and they were traditionally not purchased. As a kid growing up in the 1960s, I got most of my books from the public and school library, and neither one had Nancy Drew or Happy Hollisters (two of the series I read). But I could find literary series like the Katie John books at both libraries. In order to get formula series books we had to buy them (usually used copies at rummage sales) or borrow them from friends who were lucky enough to own them. Occasionally, we'd receive the latest favorite series book as a gift. That is how I got exactly one Happy Hollisters book (The Secret of the Lucky Coins) and one Nancy Drew Book (The Mystery of the 99 Steps) in their shiny new editions. All were hardcover, by the way, in those days. There was something about the fact that the library didn't carry them, and they were not "adult-sanctioned" that made them more attractive. And there was a small bit of peer pressure involved in reading
them.
I remember as a kid understanding the difference between Nancy Drew and Katie John, other than the fact that my library didn't carry the former. The formula stood out to me as a young reader, beginning with the repeated descriptions of character -- "titian-blonde" Nancy, her "distinguished" father, her friends Bess, who was "pleasingly plump" and George who "enjoyed her boyish name," not to mention the little blue "roadster" that Nancy zipped around in. These were all such unusual words and descriptions that their repeated use made them stand out to me, even when I was eight. And then came the day I noticed that Nancy never "said" anything -- she always chirped, remarked, exclaimed, cried, declared, insisted, retorted, piped up, or chimed in. Once I noticed that, I could no longer enjoy the books, except to laugh at them -- which I did. My sister and I used to read them aloud to make fun of the writing. We also wrote parodies of them to entertain each other.
By the time I first started working as a librarian in the 1980s, the informal ban against series books had been dropped, but there were still old-school librarians who argued against spending public money on such "trash." By then, formula series were mostly available as paperback originals, so they didn't cost as much, and we could argue that there was a great public demand for them. We tried to keep up with the demand by stocking multiple paperback copies of the most popular and most requested series books, but we didn't replace them when they wore out. Usually by the time the last copies of a series needed to be weeded due to poor condition, kids' interest in the series has also worn thin, and they were on to The Next Big Thing.
And, yes, we did have parents in those years (1980s-90s) wanting reassurance that the Goosebumps books were okay for their sensitive darlings, or that a daughter raised on a steady diet of Babysitters Club would still be able to read Pride and Prejudice one day. I always encouraged parents to read one of the series books themselves to see what it was like, and discuss the book with their child to find out why they liked it. I think most adults were surprised, for example, to learn that Goosebumps wasn't that scary, and that there was a lot of humor in the series.
As a librarian what I appreciated about the series books is that because they were frequently checked out, children would have to approach me for help in checking our holdings or placing a hold on the book they wanted. This gave me a chance to interact with them a bit. I noticed, for example, that they nearly always asked for the book by number, e.g. "Do you have #67 in the Goosebumps series?" I would always ask them how many books they had read in the series and whether they had read any of them more than once. And sometimes I would tell them I hadn't read any books in the series but I wanted to read one. Would I need to start with #1? Was there one book in the series they thought was the best one that they would recommend? Their responses were interesting to me. They always seemed to know how many of the books they had read, and they had rarely read one more than once, unless they had nothing else to read. As for recommending something for me, as I recall, without fail they all responded that the order of the series didn't matter. I could start with #1 or #32 or whatever was available. And I can't recall a single child who could name a favorite book in the series. I would generally get an answer like, "No, they are all pretty much the same. It doesn't really matter which one you read."
So it's interesting to me to read that today there is no concern about kids reading formula series books. I think that's a good thing, so long as the kids themselves are freely choosing them to read for pleasure. But do you notice kids having interactions around the series books they are reading, as we were pretty much forced to do when we borrowed them from each other, or as kids a generation ago did in having to negotiate with their parents for permission to read them?
KT
-- Kathleen T. Horning Director Cooperative Children's Book Center (CCBC) 4290 Helen C. White Hall 600 N. Park St Madison, WI 53706 http://www.education.wisc.edu/ccbc horning_at_education.wisc.edu 608-263-3721 (phone) 608-262-4933 (fax)
Received on Fri 05 Aug 2011 09:40:52 AM CDT
