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Thank You For Weeding Mindfully: A New Life for (Very) Worn Books

 

Inside the covers of the Crestwood House Monsters series, adventures await!

Part of a librarian’s job is to weed the collection (obviously, you know this already if you are a librarian). That is exactly what it sounds like– pulling undesirable materials that have taken root (and shelf space). By “undesirable” I mean books that are damaged, or that have incorrect information, or that are old and worn out. These last are the hardest, because they usually are books that have been thoroughly loved for many, many years. Although they may not be checked out frequently any more, there are certain kids for whom you know those books will be just right. When I was a school librarian, I struggled with getting rid of the falling-apart Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books, and when it came time to take three shelves of beat up Nancy Drew books down, I offered them to a teacher who couldn’t bear to see them exit the building (teachers will rubber band books together that have fallen apart if they have to).

But it has to be done. I have been in school libraries that had not been weeded in so long that the books on space read “Some day, man will land on the moon”, 35 years after that giant step for mankind occurred.  And I have encountered the same set of monster movie books, the Monsters books from Crestwood House, first published in the 1970s, multiple times: as a kid discovering monster movies for the first time, a librarian wavering on whether to keep the books or weed them, and now as the mom of a Monster Kid.

I was actually very surprised to find the Crestwood House books on the shelf both at my local public library and the school library. I’m not sure how he actually discovered them, as I did not introduce them to him, they were in library bindings (so the covers weren’t visible), and his class was encouraged to choose from more “age-appropriate” books. The school librarian even called me to check if it was okay for him to check the books out. And for two years, he has checked them out, over and over.

Today I got an email from the librarian. She wrote that she had weeded the nonfiction extensively this summer, and the Crestwood House Monsters books did not make the cut. They have been pulled from the collection. “Since he enjoyed them so much, do you think he would like to have them”?

Oh yes.

That was quite possibly the fastest thank you note my child has ever produced.

Libraries have to make room for new books and knowledge by discarding inaccurate and damaged materials, but bless our school librarian for really paying attention to my son’s unusual interests.

These books that are probably as old as I am? They have a new life ahead of them, with someone who will treasure every torn, worn page.

 

De-constructing Monster High

I don’t hang out in the toy aisle at Target often, mostly because I hate seeing blatant gender division (the pink “girls’ ” Legos are shelved with Hello Kitty and Barbie, and all the other Legos get their own shelving unit on the clearly labeled  “boys'” side, for instance, and that makes me cranky). But I was there anyway, and my six year old daughter had to get birthday presents for her friends… And that’s when I saw this.

 

 

I have written about the reservations I have about Monster High in the past, but I’ve also noted that there isn’t much else out there for monster-loving girls. Monster High is a multimedia franchise with not just dolls but webisodes, books, and much more– a true multimedia franchise– and it is a franchise that continues to grow. It seems like a  possible way to catch the interest of girls in classic monsters, both movies and books. But then I walked in to the toy aisle, and there was this: the “Create-A-Monster” set.

I had read that the dolls were so skinny that you had to take the hands off to put on the clothes, but this goes way beyond that. This “Create-A-Monster” set completely disassembles two of the dolls into their assorted parts with various fashion accessories included. On a feminist level, I can’t see how a toymaker could possibly have managed to depict the extreme of objectification you can see here. The parts are interchangeable, which I guess would allow for some creativity, but kids playing “create-a-monster’ here are working with a limited number of options, with their goal to create the dolls as they appear on the box. There are other “Create-A-Monster” sets, so I suppose that with an unlimited supply of money and imagination, a kid could purchase many sets, toss the pieces together in a box, and build all kinds of crazy monsters, as this little Victoria Frankenstein did (start the video at 3:20) kind of like my husband does with various specialty sets of Legos. That’s gruesome and disturbing, but in kind of a cool way. But is that how the girls who play with Monster High actually used these dolls in their imaginary play?

Now, because both my husband and son are kaiju lovers, I have seen many Youtube videos done by kaiju loving enthusiasts where the creators actually film movie battles (usually using very stop motion animation of various quality, such as this one) using their existing action figures (don’t feel that you have to watch the whole thing). Now, granted, kaiju have kind of a limited palette of activity available to them if you stick with the original creators’ narratives, since most of what they do on screen is battle other kaiju and destroy things. You can’t dress them up easily, the parts aren’t interchangeable, and they’re more likely to step on a shopping mall than shop at one. That hasn’t stopped my kids from making and acting out stories about Mommy Godzilla and Baby Godzilla going to haunted houses, amusement parks, and movie theaters, and solving mysteries with Scooby Doo and Geronimo Stilton. That’s all kind of unexpected. Kids can do what they want with the toy and the narrative that goes along with it once it’s in their hands. What kind of play do the Monster High dolls inspire, though? I saw review videos, acting out of traditional high school drama, and other rather mundane things that come along with owning a collectible fashion doll. NPR called the dolls “goth Barbie”. I object to their characterization as “goth” but it does look like in most ways they are being played with much in the same way as Barbie and other fashion dolls are. The Monster High dolls, then, are domesticating monsters rather than inspiring creative play that provides an opportunity to take an existing and tired narrative and remake it in new and exciting ways. Although there are always a few who will take what you give them and run with it. As this music video  for Ke$ha’s song “Cannibal” shows, there are creative ways to use those extra body parts.

Monster High appears to be subverting the “normal” fashion doll narrative, but it’s only, for the most part appearance. But that can be reclaimed! Rather than letting corporate media and marketing determine how the girls you know play with the dolls, show the alternate narrative that comes alive when girl monsters come into their own. Children’s and school librarians, check over your library collection and see what you can find. The girls may be hard to find, but I guarantee they’re out there.

 

Crossover Readers

A lot of publicity has gone to the newly recognized audience of “crossover readers,” an audience that only really emerged into the mainstream with the success of Harry Potter. Crossover readers returning to (or discovering) YA fiction are now an audience to be reckoned with, and some publishers are even experimenting with marketing to an audience that might be outgrowing YA books and wants titles more reflective of those in-between years that exist now from the time at which you finish high school and the time you truly declare your independence.

It’s great that this crossover audience is getting some attention. But what’s interesting is that as we talk about adults crossing over to a genre aimed at teens, there is a group aged 10-14 (or, depending on who you talk to, 8-12) that most people refer to as “tweens” (which is a term I hate). And that group is crossing over to read not just YA fiction targeted at a teen audience of ages 15 and up, but adult novels. This isn’t new. YA fiction didn’t always exist, and the books that did weren’t necessarily the ones that rang the bells of these kids, who are maybe not quite ready to leave the children’s section completely (there are some extremely awesome books for middle grade readers)but are also ready to strike out for the books their parents have hidden in a box in the back of their closet. Today when we think of middle grade students and horror, Goosebumps is what usually comes to mind, but oh my gosh, do you have any idea how many kids between 8 and 12 have read Stephen King’s IT? I asked a group of women on Facebook what book had scared them the most as a kid, and one of them said IT, which she had read at age 8 (when asked if she would give it to her kids at that age, she gave me a resounding NO). Erin Morgenstern, on NPR’s Risky Reads, wrote about reading IT first at age 12 (link here). If you read through the comments, you’ll see how young kids often are when they start reading Stephen King. One commenter said “I went straight for Stephen King in fifth grade.” Another commenter started reading King at age 9. I myself remember reading IT when I was about 12… so, you see, those older readers in the children’s section of the library, are getting their books from everywhere. Morgenstern’s article appeared as part of a series by NPR called PG-13: Risky Reads, in which authors discuss the books that, as teens, changed their lives. Some of these are definitely YA, some would be considered adult fiction, but, in spite of the title of this series, many of these books were also read by kids much younger than 13.

This NPR series reminds me a lot of a book by Lizzie Skurnick, Shelf Discovery, that I read some time ago– it actually has covered some of the same books. Shelf Discovery was compiled from a column at Jezebel called Fine Lines (archives are at the bottom of the article), where she (and some others) write about fiction read by this same age group–middle graders and teens– mostly titles girls in that age group would have read as they grew up in the 60s, 70s, and 80s Crossing over directly from children’s books to adult fiction at that time really isn’t all that uncommon, and that may be why there are so many challenges to books for children and teens. It’s nice to pretend that each kind of reader stays sorted into their little box, and it’s true that some will take the path we expect, or direct them on, or that marketers try to push them on. But really, each reader is different, every kid is different, and there is no sudden revolution, just a world of books and assorted related media that lead in a multitude of ways to discovering who you are as a reader, and who you are in life.

Am I saying that as librarians, educators, and parents, we should be handing our eight year olds Stephen King? No, absolutely not. But many of you probably remember reading books like Flowers in the Attic and The Grounding of Group Six before you were fifteen, and it’s good to remember that kids aren’t getting their books just from the library, and to remember what it was like to be that age and read the books in that box under the bed, when you look at and think about your own young reader. And, as an elementary school librarian recently asked me (to paraphrase) “They’re beyond Goosebumps-, and ready for something more– what can I give them next?”