Over the years, I have come to believe that the most efficient, least manic and frankly more meaningful way to go about Christmas gift shopping is to decide on one thing, and find variations of that same thing for everybody.So for one year it was scarves, another year miniature trees, last year I gave all manner of socks, and this year I had much fun getting what you see above and below for friends and family.
The only question was: how many can I read before I wrap them?
It was an exercise in nostalgia for the most part (reading the Wishing Chair, Malory Towers, and even one or two Nancy Drew mysteries again), and also a discovery process. Although I have been collecting children's literature for some years now, what I own in that section of my library were mainly acquired for their visual illustrations, rather than literary merit. I love the Atwoood and Silverstein poems of course, but it certainly helped that those collections contain beautiful illustrations. I have been curious recently about how the content of children's literature might have evolved since I was a kid, and since it seemed congruent with the spirit of Christmas to get children's books for my adult friends, I decided they shall be the focus of Christmas shopping this year.
So after one delightful morning spent in the children's section of Borders, I brought home the basketful of children's titles, some familiar, some not, and spent the few days leading up to Christmas reading as many of them as I could. There were a number of books which I decided in the end to keep for myself, mainly because the stories were so sad, and not quite appropriate I thought for the merry season. Yes, sad stories, especially those written for the current generation of young readers - underlying the quirky adventures and superhero tales, I was surprised (and yet not) to find the themes of divorce, alienation, mental psychopathy being repeated in different books. I suppose it is a reflection of the times, and these themes play out early enough in contemporary society and family life, that they naturally have become part of the learning experience of children. Generally, I think it is a good thing that children find a voice for their struggles and issues in sensitively written literature. Researching a little into the backgrounds of some of the children's authors, I was full of admiration of those who made it their careful art to write for the new generation growing up in an increasingly complex world.
However, in one corner of my mind, I am also hoping that "classic" children's literature would be preserved and somehow enough fondness would be created for them early enough in this generation of children who are growing up faster than ever before. Yes, I do mean the "Heidi" stories, Pooh tales, Beatrix Potter even. Simple stories about truth and beauty, happiness in doing good, love for others - which may provide (as they did for so many before this generation) a point of reference that they can come back to later in a (morally relativist, skeptical) life for some idea of hope and goodness?
