Why we need good children’s stories

“a children’s story which is enjoyed only by children is a bad children’s story.” (‘Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What’s To Be Said)

I strongly agree with Lewis on this account, as I love to read and soak in good children’s books, and I agree with him that the medium of children and fairy stories tell us something that no other medium can communicate. We’re not talking about childish books, but of books written for children that spark my imagination and show me something of the world in a way that also appeals to children. So when I found this book half price at Blackwell’s, this book that I have seen all over Instagram and heard people raving over, I thought I should give it a go.

I should first say, I’m sorry if this book has been very meaningful for you in some way, and I hope I don’t ruin your enjoyment of it or the goods to be gained. I get the appeal, I really do. It makes for some great Instagram posts because each page is a lovely illustration paired with a nice quote about friendship, love, home, or other things that make us feel nice. The simplicity of the drawings and the story make it so that anyone could relate to feeling lost and being on this journey, hoping to find friends along the way, and the messages are all about being kind to yourself, embracing imperfection, and enjoying cake.

But I’m actually not sorry to critique it, because that is all it is: Instagram posts. I assumed there would be a story between the quotes, some struggles where the boy and the animals had to learn to love each other or be brave, but there isn’t. The preface describes the boy as lonely and lost, and it seems like he journeys home with the animals, but I only figured that out because they started spouting quotes about home near the end of the book. Their friendship simply happens by proximity, with nothing earned. The only nod to the cost of friendship happens when the boy and the mole come upon the fox, who is trapped. The fox says he would have eaten the mole if he wasn’t trapped, and the mole says the fox will die if he stays in the trap, so the mole chews the fox free. But there was no struggle leading to a moment of decision to do the right thing, no questioning or growth of the mole as a character. 

I won’t deny that the characters come to some sweet conclusions, but wouldn’t we have learned more if we actually journeyed with the characters? Wouldn’t we have grown alongside them? I think especially of the horse, when he says “Tears fall for a reason and they are your strength not your weakness.” Then when the boy asks him, “What is the bravest thing you’ve ever said?” He replies, “Help.” I understand the desire to teach children they don’t always need to take up a sword to be brave and that we all need each other, but where is the horse getting this wisdom from? What struggles did he have to go through to realize that? Or did he just hear that from a mindfulness guide and waited until someone randomly asked him about bravery to sound deep and philosophical? I don’t trust the horse in this instance because I don’t know the horse, or any of the others. I want to, but there is no substance to any of them. Hilariously, the boy also asks, “So you know all about me?” The horse answers yes, so the boy asks further, “And you still love me?” “We love you all the more.” I’m really glad the boy and the animals know all about each other, that is true friendship, but I as the reader would also like to be friends with these characters, but I can’t do that because I know nothing about them.

Lewis also wrote, describing how and why to write good children’s stories, “The story itself should force its moral upon you. You find out what the moral is by writing the story.” (‘Unreal Estates’) There is no real moral to this story because the author did not bother to write a real story. 

The appeal of the un-described characters and missing backgrounds is that anyone could relate to them. Anyone could relate to being lost, wanting friends, journeying home, longing for love and acceptance, so theoretically, anyone could relate to the boy or the animals. But reading good books with good characters teaches empathy because we have to enter into the world of someone perhaps very different than us, with very different experiences, and yet we get to be surprised by how much this experience of empathy illuminates our own selves and world. One of the blurbs on the back of the copy I bought reads, “The world that I am required to inhabit is this one. But the world that I love to inhabit is the one that Charlie Mackesy has created.” I can see how it would be nice to live in a world where nothing needs to be earned, and the storm of wind and grey clouds is over in a few pages. But if we’re dreaming of inhabiting other worlds, I would rather find one that has the quality of feeling actually lived-in, instead of this world of pencil sketches.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that this book is missing what it needs to be a story: character and plot. That’s it, the bare minimum. It doesn’t even need a setting, although that adds to its weight. But without character and plot, it is merely a collection of napkin scribblings with a few trite words as captions. It frustrates me because books like this pretend to satisfy our deep longing for story and meaning, but it offers no substance. It spoon-feeds us its content, and its not even very good content. Reading this book is as easy as cotton candy (or candy floss for my UK friends), but it also lasts just as long – dissolved in a moment. Good books need to be eaten as a meal, carefully prepared, tasted and savored, and ultimately leave us satisfied yet paradoxically with a longing to spend more time in their world. It takes more time, more work, and it might require us to put aside ourselves for a moment, but what a beautiful and satisfying ending it gives.

I could say more about the value of stories and other worlds (I wrote about 20,000 words actually, gave a few presentations on it), but I’ll pause the rant. For now, here’s some children’s books I think are more worth our time:

• The Little Prince (also a boy trying to get home, and befriends a fox, beautifully simplistic illustrations)
• The Redwall Series (talking animals banding together to fight evil, eat LOTS of cake and good food)
• Wind in the Willows (a mole and a mouse adventuring on a raft down the river, more cake is eaten, hilarity ensues)
• The Chronicles of Narnia (obviously)
• The Curdie Books (George MacDonald’s best fairytales)

Just to name a few. Any other suggestions?