Up for Discussion- "Give Them Wings"

"'Give us Books,'. Say the Children; Give us Wings. You who are powerful and strong, help us to escape into the faraway. We are willing to learn everything that we are taught at school, but please, let us keep our dreams. ' " —Paul Hazard

In Books, Children, and Men, first published in English in 1944, Paul Hazard presented an impassioned plea for the value and importance of children's literature. Hazard was writing to the general public, asking for a greater understanding of the immense influence of books in the early years of life. Like Charles Dodgson, C. S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien, he was an academic with a strong belief in the power of the imagination. His words and thoughts helped me form my own philosophy of working with children while studying for my MLS 30 years ago, and they have come back to me often in the wake of the events of September 11th.

On the day after the attacks we, as a profession, did what librarians do best. We rushed to put together booklists, displays, and suggestions for material to help children cope. We posted messages to each other to create lists of books on disasters and grieving, books on the Arab world, books about tolerance and peace. We communicated on listservs and worked through library systems to find ways to help children get a handle on the crisis through reading. Those lists and displays were immensely helpful to teachers, parents, and others working directly with children in the aftermath of the terrible television images and the losses so many of our citizens sustained.

I learned something on September 11th from a 12-year-old neighbor, something that reminded me of Paul Hazard. Zach is a reader and we talk about books often. That afternoon we talked about the terrorist attacks and he asked me the difficult question: How could anybody do such a thing? All the factual books and books on grieving and loss could not help us answer that question, but Zach and I found ourselves quite naturally discussing other books we have talked about before. Who would do such a thing? Harry Potter's ruthless nemesis, Voldemort, would. Arawn, Death Lord of Lloyd Alexander's "Prydain" series (Holt), would. The menacing Dark Rider of Susan Cooper's books would.

The literature of fantasy that has been so much a part of Zach's reading life has deep roots in the folklore of the world—that vast body of oral literature that for centuries was lovingly passed by word of mouth from one generation to another. It is through folktales that humans from the earliest times shared their knowledge of the human psyche and the codes and standards of behavior. Fantasy continues this rich tradition in today's literature for children. The boy who finds himself totally involved in the heroic adventures of Matthias and other small creatures in Brian Jacques's popular "Redwall" series (Philomel) is learning to trust his own courage in a world where he feels smaller and weaker than those around him. The girl who is caught up in the courageous quest of Lyra in Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy (Knopf) is finding through vicarious experience how to learn who is trustworthy and who is dangerous in her own world.

One of the best ways for children to tackle the question of evil is through allegory and metaphor. Concepts that are too scary to contemplate in real life can be understood—or at least considered—through fantasy. In her Newbery Award acceptance speech in 1976 for The Grey King , Susan Cooper made a direct connection between her literary vision in writing the fantasy series called "The Dark Is Rising" (McElderry) and her experiences as a child growing up in wartime Britain. She was subjected to bombings, anti-aircraft fire, and gas masks in her daily life at home and school during World War II. Her descriptions of the Dark and the evil consciousness behind its actions come directly from the very real menace of Hitler's threatened invasion. Reading Will Stanton's coming-of-age story and his eventual triumph over those dark forces can be a highly effective way of helping children cope with our present world of terror. In all the books in Cooper's "Dark Is Rising" sequence, young people eventually overcome the forces of evil through courage, resourcefulness, friendship, and help from trusted elders.

These values appear, of course, in many fantasy series. They are the important themes underlying J. K. Rowling's remarkably popular "Harry Potter" series (Scholastic). An orphan who appears helpless and weak learns that he has a magical heritage. But more than the spells he learns at wizarding school, it is his own courage—along with his strong friendships and the advice of elders—that helps him fight the embodiment of evil that is represented by Voldemort. And what could be more comforting in literature than the interchange in which Dumbledore says to Harry at the end of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban: "You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and he shows himself most plainly when you have need of him…."

In Alexander's "Prydain" series (Holt), which begins with The Book of Three, the force for evil appears in his depiction of Arawn, Death Lord, a character taken directly from ancient Welsh mythology. Once again, the young protagonist Taran is on a journey of self-discovery—a journey that depends on a group of close friends who offer assistance and companionship. Adult helpers appear along the way but the companions themselves must eventually make their own way through courageous acts. In the fourth book of the series, Taran Wanderer, when the protagonist travels alone through the land of Prydain, searching for his heritage, he finds something more precious—his sense of self. And that must ultimately be the goal of every reader and every youth, to find a strong sense of self with which to fend off the forces of evil, whether they are external monsters or internal demons that must be overcome. Through fantasy, that struggle for self-knowledge becomes clear.

In each of these series, the message is subtle but clear to young readers. Life is difficult. Evil exists in the hearts of some. Hatred is a terrible emotion and feeds on itself. But if you are kind and caring, if you are true to your friends, if you listen to wise elders who can point you in the right direction—eventually you will overcome the evil forces. The beauty of the fantasy approach to dealing with pure evil is that it can show Will Stanton, Harry Potter, and Taran—along with Jane, Barney, Hermione, Ron, Eilonwy, Flewddur, and other companions—eventually vanquishing the evil. Through the fantasy—which is, naturally, an extension of the age-old stories, legends, and hero/heroine tales through the ages—hope is kept alive. And that is what children really want to know: can I get through this? Will evil triumph? What can someone as young/small/helpless as I am accomplish in the face of terror? Folklore and fantasy can often empower the young at a much deeper, more visceral level than other forms of literature.

Yet, to be successful, the fantasy world must also be believable. "The Muse in charge of fantasy wears good sensible shoes," wrote Lloyd Alexander in Horn Book in 1965. Fantasy must have plenty of solid detail and an inner consistency of plot and setting. Heroes on high questing adventures must sleep on hard ground, lumpy with tree roots and wet with dew. Characters must be true to human nature, as lonely and afraid at times, as they are brave and loyal at other times. We must sense our own fear and courage through them. Children who immerse themselves in this type of reading can develop an immunity to despair because they have experienced darkness, vicariously, and found the hope that carries them through terrifying events.

We know now that our present crisis is more than one massive attack of terrorists on our country. We are learning to accept the fact that we have entered a new age of increased vigilance and constant concern for personal safety and national security. We need more than one booklist, one display in reaction to crisis. The greatest gift we give our children is a sense of hope. It is imperative then that we librarians rededicate ourselves to what we have been doing best for the last hundred years—connecting the right book with the right child at the right time. We have the magical ability to give them wings to cope with the fear that is now so prevalent in our world.

Recommended Titles:

Alexander, Lloyd.
The Book of Three (1964)
The Black Cauldron (1965)
The Castle of Llyr (1966)
Taran Wanderer (1967)
The High King (1968)

Cooper, Susan.
Over Sea, Under Stone (Harcourt, 1966)
The Dark Is Rising (1973)
Greenwitch (1985)
The Grey King (1975)
Silver on the Tree (1977)

Hazard, Paul.
Books, Children, and Men (Horn Bks., 1983)

Jacques, Brian
Redwall (1987)

Pullman, Philip.
The Golden Compass (1996)
The Subtle Knife (1997)
The Amber Spyglass (2000)

Rowling, J. K.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (1998)
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (1999)
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (1999)
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2000)

Tolkien, J. R. R.
The Hobbit (1938)
The Fellowship of the Ring (1988)
The Two Towers (1988)
The Return of the King (1988)