Questioning Today’s Young Adult Fiction

Teenage boy reading a book in nature

Teenage boy reading a book in nature

Recently we’ve witnessed a clear trend of the young adult novel and its increasing popularity. For my generation these novels seem completely conventional; it’s what we’ve grown up with. But this hasn’t always been the case. Many people date the birth of today’s young adult fiction, which lies between children’s literature and adult literature, back to S.E. Hinton’s classic, The Outsiders, published in 1967.

The Outsiders is a grim tale: the account of a 14-year-old well-intentioned misfit named Ponyboy who deals with young gang-like violence, death, and feelings of marginalization in society. He writes the book as a way to deal with the resulting grief. Though it deals with dark issues, the story is something of a reasonable tale. Ponyboy and his brothers represent victims of a violent, unguided lifestyle that is all too real.

Reality in adolescent literature has become scarce though. Consider the mega hits of the past decade in this category- The Hunger Games, Twilight, and Harry Potter (all series) are perhaps the top three. The Hunger Games series details a tradition of a battle reality show, for lack of a better phrase, between young men and women as well as the resulting revolution in a futuristic society. Twilight and its sequels are about the conflicting love between a young lady and a vampire, followed by a werewolf that is allegedly equally as charming. Need I provide a synopsis for the 7-piece Harry Potter series? For those who’ve spent the last ten years in a desert cave, JK Rowling’s “masterpiece” chronicles the coming of age of a young boy in a small English town, turned wizard at an institution for the magically oriented.

harry potterMaybe what is so distinct about these young novels isn’t the unrealistic circumstances, but instead the obvious power and special qualities of the main characters. Young Harry is dubbed “the boy who lived,” after surviving an attack from a deadly foe, and later receives the title “the chosen one,” meant to destroy this foe who would otherwise take over the world. He is the fastest broom rider at his school, and the most naturally gifted when it comes to performing spells. Hunger Games’s Katniss Everdeen is a prolific bow hunter with the courage to volunteer for her village’s spot to fight in the battle, which typically produces one survivor… the champion.

The bottom line is that these titles sell. They sell like a wildfire burns. The question is, why? Perhaps young readers need a hero; they crave to behold power, skill and triumph in the face of unbeatable circumstances and antagonists. What concerns me, and what I believe we should ask ourselves, is why everything short of magic and glory fails to satisfy young readers to the extent that they adore characters like Katniss and Harry. Not only were the champions of The Outsiders and Catcher in the Rye normal young adults—you might also argue that neither of them succeeded by the end of the novel. That would be the surface impression. Their triumphs were subtle and largely internal. Holden reconnects with his sister in the final scene as the only tangible result, but the reader concludes that he has become comfortable with his place in the world. Ponyboy isn’t as fortunate, but in the process of his hardship comes to terms with the cold realities of adult life.

The latter novels are distinctly less glorious, but they add value to society through their contemplative nature. These books force young readers to question their own impressions of happiness, ethics, and inspire thinking on the challenges and pleasures of growing up. This isn’t to say that these themes don’t extend to today’s young adult literature as well; in fact, each that I’ve mentioned is permeated by these topics. But, they aren’t the focus. They are presented in circumstances that make their verity a doubt. We cannot appreciate the lessons within for their simplicity and applicability to the real world.

Young readers today demand their life lessons with a side of fantasy, and a generous serving of victory for desert. Moving forward, let’s hope that the temptation to eat the carbs and the sugar before the steak doesn’t translate to literature, and more importantly, to learning life lessons at a young and impressionable age. The beauties of our world are simple, and for a generation prizing unrealistic achievement in magical lands, let us hope that they may continue to appreciate—to cherish—all the things they may actually encounter in their lives.


TOOK THE WORDS RIGHT OUT OF MY MOUTH

A Visit from Poet/Editor Will Wright

by Isabelle McAlevey, Shenandoah Intern

Hi-res Author Photo - William WrightWhen I learned William Wright was coming to sit down with the Shenandoah interns I was unsure of what to expect. I did what I could online to get a sense of his poetry. Rich with imagery evocative of earthiness and rooted in the American South, I found Wright’s poetry a delight to read. I was interested to hear him discuss what inspired him and what he looked for in poetry as a poet, anthologist, and reviewer (amongst other things I am sure).

He had many intriguing and thoughtful ways to answer the range of questions produced by our group, from the recommendation of A Canticle for Leibowitz, to his description of using a “pebble in a pool” approach to effectively review a piece of literary work. What most stood out to me during our time with Will Wright, however, was his mentioning that he has synesthesia and feels a desire to put particularly sound-dense words or language in his mouth and taste them. This got me thinking about how the average reader experiences poetry, and the difference in effect poetry can have when just read on a page, versus recited aloud.

Wright said Gerard Manley Hopkins was a poet he particularly enjoyed when it came to poetic diction and sound-density, and so I thought perhaps I would read some of Hopkins’ work aloud to see if I felt similarly. I selected at random from a list of poems I found, and read first “The Starlight Night.” Right away, the title indicated to me a sense of playful magic in its rhyme. Lo and behold, the poem did contain elements of fairy magic, and lines such as “Down in dim woods the diamond delves! the elves’-eyes!/The grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies!” did not disappoint when it came to texture and the savory nature of the words as they departed my mouth.

I had never really thought before of a desire to taste words, to want to put them in one’s mouth and experience them in an entirely new dimension. Maybe we can fulfill some iota of this desire by speaking the words out loud, but when I reflect on it, it does seem sort of a shame that we cannot replace the words to our mouths and taste them, jumble them around with our tongues, and pass them over our teeth. Although I do not have synesthesia, I think I was mostly able to grasp what Wright meant when he said he wanted to put words in his mouth and taste them. I could not determine exactly what type of synesthesia this might fall under, but given that the word stems from the Greek words for “together” and “sensation,” I would say it is safe to say the urge to taste a word is a synesthetic notion.

wright bookOther than discussing Hopkins’ poetry as a source of inspiration, and his passion for the sound of words, Wright said it was Leon Stokesbury’s The Made Thing that first shifted his focus from short stories to poetry as a young writer. He said he swiped the book after class one day, and it was one of the best things he ever did. I really enjoyed when he shared this story and was able to pinpoint a turning point for his interest and career. Overall, it was fun and engaging to hear Wright talk about his work and what he admires in the work of others. His identity as an author is authentically Southern, and it was fascinating to hear him talk about how the South and sounds influence his writing. Ultimately, it was his mention of his desire to taste words and language that really stood out to me, and got me thinking about the way we experience literature.


recent-meR. T. Smith has edited Shenandoah since 1995 and serves as Writer-in-Residence at Washington & Lee. His forthcoming books are Doves in Flight: 13 Fictions and Summoning Shades: New Poems, both due in 2017.

 

Artistry in Gaming

pushupPOSTED BY SAM BRAMLETT

Videogames have been a part of my life ever since my brother won a bet with my dad, saying that he could do 100 push ups a day for a year. He won, and earned us a Playstation 2. From then on, I played games any moment that my parents allowed, and many moments that they didn’t. There are scripts and dialogue in games; they are placed within depictions of worlds that require exploration and commitment to the game itself. The introduction of gameplay to stories is meant to cause immersion and allow people to view themselves as the protagonist, or when this is not case—build relation with the character one is playing as. Games introduce different facets to storytelling such as complete immersion and interactivity, and though they are first and foremost games—meant to be played and enjoyed as such, empathy for the plight of protagonists and other characters inevitably develop. If one seeks to understand the current and growing culture of men and women who have played games since their youth, having a knowledge of them is imperative. Like genre fiction, though there are plenty of games that should be considered narrative realism, videogames, as well as the formulas of story and gameplay found within them—are indicative of how the current generation prefers to fantasize. Games should then be studied or else it will become increasingly difficult to judge the fantastical standards of newer generations.

Though classic arcade style games like Galaga, Dig Dug, Mrs. Pacman, and Joust are all great games, their hardware allows for only a minor semblence of storyline. Though this has nothing to do with the arcade style itself. In recent games, developers place much more emphasis on story and cinematography. Creating the perception of a world where the player can jump right into the story, and the game world jumps straight into questioning their morality, tantalizing them with rewards in exchange for committing either heroic or unspeakable acts. Leaving the player with the freedom to choose his own path, but clearly advocating a particular moral stance in the form of how people react to the protagonist, allows the player to develop their own backstory and characterization for themselves in game.

gamestationTake for example Bioshock, a first person shooter game. After a plane crash and the exploration of a mysterious lighthouse, the player is dumped in the middle of a sprawling metropolis hidden away from the world at the bottom of the Atlantic. Very quickly, the player becomes aware that the city, based on a 1950’s vision of utopia, has descended into something reminiscent of one of Cormac McCarthy’s fever dreams. The city was founded by a man named Andrew Ryan, who greets the player through a recording at the beginning of the game as they descend into the city, Andrew Ryan, as well as all of Rapture, is meant to be the embodiment of idealism taken too far. Yet this idealism is a reference to the game itself, as the player is required to choose to power himself up at the expense of others, or to weaken themselves for the benefit of others. All the while Andrew Ryan tries to influence the player’s choices, saying “Whenever anyone wants others to do their work, they call upon their altruism. Never mind your own needs, they say, think of the needs of… of whoever. The state. The poor. Of the army, of the king, of God! The list goes on and on. How many catastrophes were launched with the words “think of yourself”? It’s the “king and country” crowd who light the torch of destruction.”

Bioshock was released in 2007. Developers have continued to develop games that attempt to offer players new perspectives on their lives since then, creating beautiful works of fiction like The Witcher 3, The Evil Within, and the Stanley Parable. The list goes on and on, and today, 40% of adults in the United States report having a game console such as an Xbox or PlayStation.

John Cawelti said that, “If we can isolate those patterns of symbol and theme that appear in a number of different formulas popular in a certain period, we will be on firmer ground in making a cultural interpretation, since those patterns characteristic of a number of different formulas presumably reflect basic concerns and valuations that influence the way people of a particular period prefer to fantasize.” It would be a shame then to deny oneself such knowledge of culture considering that seventy-one percent of people aged six to forty-nine in the United States played video games last year according to the Entertainment Software Association. Skilled writers and developers use videogames to influence the minds of the players who are growing up with them. To understand the way in which minds of the current era enjoy fantasizing, the curious critic may not want to leave videogames out of the discussion.


Literary Shrines and Souvenirs

Posted by Libby Hayhurst

It’s that time of year again; there’s a nip in the air, pumpkins line the street, and subpar “scary” movies have begun to stream 24/7 on your television. As a Halloween enthusiast, I have eagerly participated in all October activities– binge watching Tim Burton films, consuming all things pumpkin, and recently, taking my writing to the graveyard (and no, that’s not some euphemism for writer’s block).

I first stumbled on my new creative space by accident. It was an unusually warm day for October, and I decided to ditch my computer in favor of sunlight. Taking a journal, I wandered through downtown Lexington until I stumbled on the Stonewall Jackson Cemetery. The grounds were pleasant, quiet, and well-maintained, so I decided to brave the ghosts of long-dead soldiers and set up camp by a gravestone.

My afternoon in the cemetery reading and writing among the long-dead got me to thinking about literature’s relationship with the paranormal. So in keeping with the Halloween spirit I’ve compiled a list of the top three spookiest literary facts.

1. J.K Rowling’s inspiration for Lord Voldemort

Over the summer, I was able to visit Edinburgh for my birthday, an opportunity I took full advantage of to nourish my Harry Potter fandom. I sat in the famous Elephant Cafe (Rowling’s old haunt) and gazed out at the Edinburgh Castle. I walked the grounds of the George Heriot School, which Rowling drew upon for Hogwarts, and guessed at how the city breathed life into her work. However, the main event did not take place until long past sunset during a ghost tour of Edinburgh’s haunted grounds.

I came face to face with Voldemort.

Or I guess, technically, face to face with his grave.
volde

According to our tour guide, when J.K Rowling lived in Edinburgh she took frequent strolls through the Greyfriars Kirkyard. The graveyard, small with a surprisingly high body count due to its many mass graves, is said to be haunted by some of the most important historical figures in Scottish history. However, it appears that Rowling was captured by Tom Riddell’s unassuming headstone, and later ascribed his name to the book’s villain. To this day, Harry Potter fans visit the site, constructing a sort of Voldemort shrine around the grave with teasing notes to Tom Riddell and other Harry Potter memorabilia.

2. Mary Shelley kept her husband’s heart

maryIn 1820, Shelley’s husband Percy met a tragic end when his boat went down in a storm, drowning himself and his nine companions. When he was retrieved from the water two days later, he was recognizable only by his clothing and a book Mary had placed in his pocket beforehand. But here’s where it gets spooky: When the cremators tried to incinerate Percy’s body, his heart refused to burn. (Note: This is absolutely a true story. Scientists believe the heart refused to burn because it had been calcified when Percy took ill with TB).

Although I would expect no less than creepy of Frankenstein author Mary Shelley, her method of preserving her husband’s memory is nearly stranger than her fiction. After the funeral, the heart was turned over to Mary who, according to legend, took it with her everywhere.

3. Poe’s mysterious death

poeMany of Edgar Allan Poe’s stories, essays and poems work in the horror tradition. Classic pieces such as “The Tell Tale Heart,” inspired by a gruesome murder, and “The Raven” are especially remembered around this time of year and translated into Halloween episodes (see The Simpson’s reenactment of “The Raven”). The darkness in his work reveals some of the author’s psyche, as he struggled to grapple with the death of his wife and mother, and his own self-destructive tendencies.

Sadly, tragedy would follow Poe to the end in his mysterious death. To this day, no one knows exactly how or why Edgar Allan Poe died. The only facts remain that he was found, delirious and half-conscious, at a public house wearing clothes that were clearly not his own. He was disoriented and could not remember what happened to him. Although a multitude of theories exist explaining his death, the most popular theory is that Poe was perhaps a victim of cooping– a practice in which vulnerable individuals were kidnapped, beaten, disguised and made to vote for a certain party. The fact that Poe was found on election day largely feeds this theory.

Unfortunately, in my research I was unable to find any hauntings of dead authors or poets. However, while you may not be able to have a seance with Ernest Hemingway or Flannery O’Connor, you can visit their graves. More information about famous writers’ headstones and their locations here.

 

Do you know of any similarly haunting literary peculiarities?