Scan barcode
mnstucki's review against another edition
4.0
3.5 stars.
You can definitely tell that this was originally published in 1990. The language is very academic and a little stiff. It helped me appreciate just how far nonfiction has come in the last 30 years.
Some of the essays are far better and more interesting than the others. My favorites were "Folktale Liberation," which talks quite a lot about the feminism that appeared in the original versions of many of the fairytales we know today; "Animal Liberation: Beatrix Potter"; "The Boy Who Couldn't Grow Up: James Barrie"; and "Back to Pooh Corner: A.A. Milne". I suppose I can't say for sure without actually reading all of the books themselves, but it seemed to me that the author spent a lot of time in many of the essays talking about the works for adults that were written by authors who happened to also write children's books.
My favorite passage in the whole book is still the one that [a:Bruce Handy|16060546|Bruce Handy|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/m_50x66-82093808bca726cb3249a493fbd3bd0f.png] quoted in [b:Wild Things: The Joy of Reading Children's Literature as an Adult|40753729|Wild Things The Joy of Reading Children's Literature as an Adult|Bruce Handy|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1531101421l/40753729._SX50_.jpg|53536950], which is where I learned about this book in the first place:
One interesting impression that I came away from the essay about Kate Greenaway with is that she was actually a pretty mediocre artist. This is kind of odd considering that the Kate Greenaway Medal is essentially the British equivalent of the Randolph Caldecott Medal in the U.S., given for "distinguished illustration in a book for children."
You can definitely tell that this was originally published in 1990. The language is very academic and a little stiff. It helped me appreciate just how far nonfiction has come in the last 30 years.
Some of the essays are far better and more interesting than the others. My favorites were "Folktale Liberation," which talks quite a lot about the feminism that appeared in the original versions of many of the fairytales we know today; "Animal Liberation: Beatrix Potter"; "The Boy Who Couldn't Grow Up: James Barrie"; and "Back to Pooh Corner: A.A. Milne". I suppose I can't say for sure without actually reading all of the books themselves, but it seemed to me that the author spent a lot of time in many of the essays talking about the works for adults that were written by authors who happened to also write children's books.
My favorite passage in the whole book is still the one that [a:Bruce Handy|16060546|Bruce Handy|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/m_50x66-82093808bca726cb3249a493fbd3bd0f.png] quoted in [b:Wild Things: The Joy of Reading Children's Literature as an Adult|40753729|Wild Things The Joy of Reading Children's Literature as an Adult|Bruce Handy|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1531101421l/40753729._SX50_.jpg|53536950], which is where I learned about this book in the first place:
Many...authors of juvenile classics...have had the ability to look at the world from below and note its less respectable aspects, just as little children playing on the floor can see the chewing gum stuck to the underside of polished mahogany tables and the hems of silk dresses held up with safety pins.
One interesting impression that I came away from the essay about Kate Greenaway with is that she was actually a pretty mediocre artist. This is kind of odd considering that the Kate Greenaway Medal is essentially the British equivalent of the Randolph Caldecott Medal in the U.S., given for "distinguished illustration in a book for children."
librariandest's review against another edition
2.0
For me, this book didn't live up to its title. Sure, it's kind of about "the subversive power of children's literature," but it's actually mostly about the biographies of certain children's authors and how certain children's stories are archetypes for adult literary fiction. And it's not a cohesive book at all. It's a series of essays that were probably originally intended for lit crit mags. When Lurie does address subversiveness, it's usually historical (the book was published in 1990, so I didn't expect nearly every essay to be about Victorian social norms).
I wanted this book to address a subject that really interests me, which is the way some kids books intentionally guide their readers toward a certain way of thinking. I was actually hoping this book would be a better version of my college seminar paper, which was about how Disney movies paved the way for gay rights. Oh well.
I wanted this book to address a subject that really interests me, which is the way some kids books intentionally guide their readers toward a certain way of thinking. I was actually hoping this book would be a better version of my college seminar paper, which was about how Disney movies paved the way for gay rights. Oh well.
gjmaupin's review against another edition
3.0
Nothing groundbreaking (though it's 20 years old and I've read a disproportionate amount of this sort of this), but quite good. Especially liked the chapters on Nesbit and Tolkien/White
eowyns_helmet's review against another edition
3.0
Lurie points out interesting ways of interpreting classics of children's literature, and illuminates some of the personalities behind famous books. For instance, I didn't know the author of Peter Pan was himself preternaturally young, possibly suffering from a condition that prevented him from completing puberty. Many of the most popular children's tales are subversive and flout tradition, rules and, most importantly, parental authority.
ellemille's review against another edition
3.0
A nice survey of the history of children's literature and collection of lesser known facts about famous children's authors, including Beatrix Potter, Kate Greenaway, J. M. Barrie, and A. A. Milne.
debnanceatreaderbuzz's review
3.0
Little biographical and psychological sketches of well-known children's authors. Not as edgy as I'd hoped; closer to a series of lectures by a university professor on children's literature.
lieslindi's review
3.0
Alison Lurie's collection of essays is entertaining and at times thought-provoking, but mostly her analyses were too Freudian for me. And inconsistent: she says death was absent from children's literature until the 20th century. In context, it's possible she meant absent in the first half of that century, but she's not clear and says this just after mentioning Little Women. People die left and right in Louisa May Alcott, Frances Hodgson Burnett, L.M. Montgomery, and Elizabeth Enright, and even Nancy Drew's mother is dead. Granted, most of the deaths happen off the page, at the very beginning to establish the setting, or to background characters you've never met -- like the Melendys' mother and Nancy's. Beth is an exception, but a glaringly contradictory one.
After, say, 1960, the morbidity rate for mothers rises sharply. A friend of mine lamented the dead mothers in contemporary books for her daughter, and she's right: many Newbery medalists including Voigt and Creech, lots of Joan Aiken, the Penderwicks, the Traveling Pants series, and Harry Potter of course. Probably because all the girl protagonists have Electra complexes.
More about authors than power to the pipsqueaks, but okay.
After, say, 1960, the morbidity rate for mothers rises sharply. A friend of mine lamented the dead mothers in contemporary books for her daughter, and she's right: many Newbery medalists including Voigt and Creech, lots of Joan Aiken, the Penderwicks, the Traveling Pants series, and Harry Potter of course. Probably because all the girl protagonists have Electra complexes.
More about authors than power to the pipsqueaks, but okay.
More...