Reading : From Turning the Page to Touching the Screen

This chapter considers the ways in which contemporary children’s literature depicts reading in changing times, with a particular eye on the cultural definitions of ‘reading’ being offered to young people in the age of the tablet computer. A number of picture books, in codex and app form, speak to changing times for reading by their emphasis on the value of books and reading as technologies of literature and of the self. Attending to valuations of literacy and literature within children’s texts provides insight into anxieties about books in the electronic age.

The art of interpretation: Tracing logics of evaluation in Shaun Tan’s The Lost Thing (2000) and Andrew Ruhemann and Shaun Tan’s The Lost Thing (2010)

Celebration (and the celebritisation) of the Australian-ness of children’s authors who enjoy critical or commercial international success, and especially of those who win international prizes speaks to a desire to partake in both national and international cultural spheres. Prizing is often presumed to both guarantee and emerge from a creator's reputation at home and abroad. Australian artist and writer Shaun Tan has received a wide array of cultural and literary prizes, ranging from Australian book awards, to an Academy Award, to the Astrid Lindgren Memorial Prize. This paper considers logics of evaluation and interpretation as they can be traced in the intratextual, intertextual, and extratextual codes of Shaun Tan’s picture book, The Lost Thing (2000), the animated film adaptation of The Lost Thing (2010). It further considers the ways in which the desire for a global audience may necessitate an erasure of the national culture which is traded on in a global market.

Canon fodder : young adult literature as a tool for critiquing canonicity

Young adult literature is a tool of socialisation and acculturation for young readers. This extends to endowing ‘reading’ with particular significance in terms of what literature should be read and why. This paper considers some recent young adult fiction with an eye to its engagement with canonical literature and its representations of young people reading. Wider possibilities of using such novels in secondary English classes are discussed, particularly in the context of critiquing literary canons and the social hierarchies they are used to legitimate.

Popular Appeal : Books and Films in Contemporary Youth Culture

Now is an opportune moment to consider the shifts in youth and popular culture that are signalled by texts that are being read and viewed by young people. In a world seemingly compromised by climate change, political and religious upheavals and economic irresponsibility, and at a time of fundamental social change, young people are devouring fictional texts that focus on the edges of identity, the points of transition and rupture, and the assumption of new and hybrid identities. This book draws on a range of international texts to address these issues, and to examine the ways in which key popular genres in the contemporary market for young people are being re-defined and re-positioned in the light of urgent questions about the environment, identity, one's place in the world, and the fragile nature of the world itself. The key questions are: what are the shifts and changes in youth culture that are identified by the market and by what young people read and view? How do these texts negotiate the addressing of significant questions relating to the world today? Why are these texts so popular with young people? What are the most popular genres in contemporary best-sellers and films? Do these texts have a global appeal, and, if so, why? These over-arching themes and ideas are presented as a collection of inter-related essays exploring a rich variety of forms and styles from graphic novels to urban realism, from fantasy to dystopian writing, from epic narratives to television musicals. The subjects and themes discussed here reveal the quite remarkable diversity of issues that arise in youth fiction and the variety of fictional forms in which they are explored. Once seen as not as important as adult fiction, this book clearly demonstrates that youth fiction (and the popular appeal of this fiction) is complex, durable and far-reaching in its scope.

Sink or Swim? : Revising Ophelia in contemporary young adult fiction

Shakespeare’s Hamlet has in recent years been used by a number of young adult novels to define and authorise representations of gendered adolescent subjectivity. In so doing, these novels attend not only to Shakespeare’s play but also to other adaptations of the play. For example, the long cultural history of Ophelia being used as a template for depicting adolescent femininity as risky or dangerous is as influential as the play itself in early twenty-first century novels. This paper reads such novels for the ways in which codes of gender and of genre circulate in adolescent fiction when linked explicitly with Shakespearean texts and traditions.

Publishing, postage, and prizes : classic Australian children’s literature in the public eye

2012 saw the publication of competing and complementary lines of Australian “classics”: “A&R Australian Classics” (HarperCollins) and “Text Classics” (Text Publishing). While Angus and Robertson were key in establishing a canon of Australian children’s classics in the twentieth century, it was the Text Classics line which included a selection of young people’s titles in their 2013. In turn, Penguin Australia launched a selection of “Australian Children’s Classics”. In so doing, these publishers were drawing on particular literary and visual cultural traditions in Australian children’s literature. Public assertions of a particular selection of children’s books reveals not only contemporary assumptions about desirable childhood experiences but about the operation of nostalgia therein. In encouraging Australian adults to judge books by their covers, such gestures imply that Australian children may be similarly understood. Importantly, the illusion of unity, sameness, and legibility which is promised by circumscribed canons of “classic” children’s literature may well imply a desire for similarly illusory, unified, legible, “classic” childhood. This paper attends to public attempts to materialise (and legitimise) a canon of classic Australian children’s literature. In particular, it considers the ways in which publishing, postage stamps, and book awards make visible a range of children’s books, but do so in order to either fix or efface the content or meaning of the books themselves. Moving between assertions of the best books for children from the 1980s to today, and of the social values circulated within those books, this paper considers the possibilities and problematics of an Australian children’s canon.

Pulping affirmation : Danny Wallace’s Yes Man!

If Danny Wallace is a yes man, I am most certainly a no woman. No, I will not agree to anything and everything in an attempt to make my life “more interesting”. No, I do not believe that on “one fateful day a mystery man on a late night bus” will change my life forever. I hate the bus. In fact, I don’t even catch public transport. Wallace’s recent film tie-in Yes Man reeks of such cheesy optimism. The book’s premise is simple and indeed, even alluring at first. When a stranger on the bus tells Danny to “say yes more” (9), his life takes a dramatic turn on the roundabout of possibility. Sad, single, and staying inside a lot, Danny signs himself up for a year of mishap and misadventure, accepting every request, suggestion and invitation offered to him by both friends and strangers.

Irregular readers : Arthur Conan Doyle’s “six dirty scoundrels”, boyhood and literacy in contemporary Sherlockian children’s literature

Young adult (YA) literature is a socialising genre that encourages young readers to take up particular ways of relating to historical or cultural materials. The first decade of the twenty-first century witnessed a boom in Sherlockian YA fiction using the Conan Doyle canon as a context and vocabulary for stories focused on the Baker Street Irregulars as figures of identification. This paper reads YA fiction’s deployment of Conan Doyle’s fictional universe as a strategy for negotiating anxieties of adolescent masculinity, particularly in relation to literacy and social agency.

Requiem for a beast : a case study in controversy

In 2008, Matt Ottley’s Requiem for a Beast: A Work for Image, Word and Music was awarded the Book of the Year: Picture Book by the Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA). Ottley’s book is challenging in its form and content: it uses words, illustrations, and music to tell a sustained, multi-layered narrative about one young man’s attempts to reconcile his family’s and his nation’s shameful history of violence against Aboriginal Australians, while also coming to terms with his own attempts to commit suicide. Given the ways in which the CBCA’s annual book awards are used by teachers, librarians, and parents to select the “best” books for young readers, it is unsurprising that the prizing of Requiem for a Beast stirred up controversy. Responses to the book proliferated across professional and popular outlets—it even received coverage on an Australian tabloid television program—and initiated a variety of conversations about what constitutes appropriate reading for young people. Perhaps more significantly, the controversy over Requiem winning picture book of the year forced the CBCA, teacher librarians, and caregivers to examine (and, often, defend) their roles and responsibilities in the circulation and promotion of children’s literature. This paper reads the Requiem controversies as a case study for understanding the complementary and contradictory roles of institutions and individuals in the ethical circulation of children’s literature in contemporary Australia and beyond.

Diversity or perversity?: Award-winning children's literature and the Australian curriculum

Two of the three cross-curriculum priorities for the national Australian Curriculum prescribed by the Australian Curriculum Assessment and Reporting Authority (ACARA) are focussed on what might be called diversity education: “Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander histories and culture”, and "Asia and Australia's Engagement with Asia” (ACARA, “Cross”). One need not be versed in complex rhetorical theory to understand that, laudable and legitimate as such priorities are, their existence implies that mainstream education in Australia has been or is characterised by the marginalisation or erasure of Australia's history—the original Indigenous cultures are not only living and vibrant today, but also have tens of thousands of years’ “head start” on Australia’s settler cultures—and of its geography—Australia is, after all, located in some physical proximity to Asia. Some might even suggest that Australia is in Asia. These temporal and spatial “forgettings” constitute a kind of cultural perversity which the cross-curricular priorities both seek to address and serve to reinscribe. Even as ACARA requires Australian school students to engage with Aboriginal and Asian histories, cultures, societies, they imply that such histories, cultures, and societies are “diverse”, that they are not those of the students in Australian classrooms; producing them as objects of study rather than as lived experience. This should not necessarily be surprising. Michael W. Apple has provocatively argued that: “one of the perverse effects of a national curriculum actually will be to ‘legitimise inequality.’ It may in fact help create the illusion that whatever the massive differences in schools, they all have something in common” (18). In the Australian context, attempts to mitigate such perversity are articulated via the selection of literary texts. As educators move to resource ACARA’s cross-curricular priorities, ACARA notes that “Teachers and schools are best placed to make decisions about the selection of texts in their teaching and learning programs that address the content in the Australian Curriculum while also meeting the needs of the students in their classes” (ACARA, “Advice”). This assertion appears on a webpage called “Advice on selection of literary texts” which is notable first and foremost for its total lack of any literary texts being named, and its list of weblinks pointing to lists of texts compiled elsewhere, by other organisations, and in the main, compiled to serve agendas other than the Australian curriculum. One of the major resources referred to by ACARA for literary text selection is the Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA). Of course, the CBCA’s annual book awards do not share ACARA’s educational priorities, but do have a history of being drawn upon by schools as a curriculum resource. In this paper, I consider the literary texts which have been prized by the CBCA in recent years attending to their engagements with Aboriginal cultures.

Feeling a little Blue? : Boofheads, bodies, and beaches

Pat Grant’s graphic novel Blue (2012) tells two stories about the impact of a newly migrant group on a small coastal Australian town. The wider story explores the wholesale effects of a previously unknown population joining an existing, culturally homogenous community. These broad social images are used to contextualise the more immediate story of three youths who are disenfranchised within the pre-existing community, but who can claim social enfranchisement by alienating the new members of the community. That the migrant population is depicted literally as aliens emphasises Blue’s participation in a wider conversation about citizenship and empathy. However, Blue does not necessarily seek to provoke a particular emotional response in its readers. Rather, in following three characters who lack what Nussbaum calls “narrative imagination” in their pursuit of good surfing or visceral entertainment—of beaches or bodies—Blue explores the means and consequences of refusing intersubjective affect. This is most powerfully rendered by the main characters’ ultimate avoidance of, and fictions about, a dead body they have wagged school to see. At the very moment of a person becoming a true object—a corpse—the meaning of objectifying people is revealed; the young protagonists seem to recognise this fact, and thus retreat from the affective scene which nonetheless informs Blue as a whole.

Visions and values : the Children’s Book Council of Australia’s prizing of picture books in the twenty-first century

The Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA) administers the oldest national prize for children’s literature in Australia. Each year, the CBCA confers “Book of the Year” awards to literature for young people in five categories. In 2001, the establishment of an “Early Childhood” category opened up the venerable “Picture Book” category (first awarded in 1955) to books with an implied readership up to 18 years of age. As a result, this category has emerged in recent years as a highly visible space within which the CBCA can contest discourses of cultural marginalisation insofar as Australian (“colonial”) literature is constructed as inferior or adjunct to the major Anglophone literary traditions, and the consistent identification of children’s literature (and, indeed, of children) as lesser than its ‘adult’ counterparts. The CBCA is engaged in defining, evaluating, and legitimising a tradition of Australian children’s literature which is underpinned by a canonical impulse, and is a reflexive practice of self-definition, self-evaluation and self-legitimisation for the CBCA itself. While it is obviously problematic to identify award winners as a canon, it is equally obvious that literary prizing is a cultural practice derived from the logic of canonicity. In his discussion of the United States’s Newbery Medal, Kenneth Kidd notes that “Medal books are instant classics, the selection process an ostensible simulation of the test of time” (169) and that “the Medal is part of the canonical architecture of children's literature” (169). Thus, it is instructive to consider the visions and values of the national, of the social, and of the literary-aesthetic, in the picture books chosen by the Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA) as the “best” of the early twenty-first century. These books not only constitute a kind of canon for contemporary Australian children’s literature, but may well come to define what contemporary Australian children’s literature means in the wider literary field. The Book of the Year: Picture Book awards given by the CBCA since 2001 demonstrate that it is not only true of the Booker Prize that, “The choices of winning books reflect not only on the books themselves, then, but also back on the Prize, affecting its reputation and creating journalistic capital which is vital for the Prize to achieve its prominence and impact.” (81). Many of the twenty-first century CBCA award-winning picture books complicate traditional or comfortable understanding of Australianness, children’s literature, or “appropriate” modes of form and content, reminding us that “moments when texts resist or complicate recuperation into national discourses offer fruitful points for exploring the relationships between text and celebratory context” (Roberts 6). The CBCA has taken the opportunities offered by the liberation of the Picture Book category from an implied readership to challenge dominant constructions of children’s literature in Australia, and in so doing, are engaged in overt practices of canonicity with potentially long-lasting effects. Works Cited: Kidd, Kenneth. “Prizing Children’s Literature: The Case of Newbery Gold.” Children's Literature 35 (2007): 166-190. Roberts, Gillian. Prizing Literature: The Celebration and Circulation of National Culture. Toronto: U Toronto P, 2011. Squires, Claire. “Book Marketing and the Booker Prize.” Judging a Book by Its Cover: Fans, Publishers, Designers, and the Marketing of Fiction. Eds. Nicole Matthews and Nickianne Moody. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007. 71-82.