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Taboos in children's literature
To the question should there be taboos in children's literature,
the answer is no ... If the world has to be seen and portrayed to
children in the light of the present day through books, taboos
have to be breached and new styles and devices used in the best
traditions of our oral storytelling, says RADHIKA MENON.
ARE there taboos in children's literature? To my mind the answer
would be a yes and a no. If the question means do taboos exist
in children's literature, then yes, they do. If the question is
should there be taboos in children's literature, then my answer
as one involved with and concerned about children's books is a
definite no.
Taboos imposed on children's books are often culture specific, as
what is acceptable in one culture is seen as unacceptable in
another. Well-known story-teller Cathy Spagnoli says, "American
publishers are very touchy about body functions, the Japanese are
not at all (our own folklore is very similar though, unlike the
Japanese, our children's books are sanitised versions - a fallout
of our accepting western norms and making them our own). Japanese
children's books have, for years, included folktales with
references to excrement, urine and so on. They have even brought
out two delightful picture books on these two functions; these
have been translated into English and are so popular. I used to
be fascinated as a teller in Japan to watch other tellers, often
elegant librarians or stiff-looking businessmen, tell tale after
tale about passing gas and how urine became a river. Audiences
loved them and took them all in so naturally. I could never do
that HERE (in the United States where she lives). The few times I
have tried such tales, I have had school principals give me a
talking to."
Vayu Naidu, author and founder of a storytelling theatre in
Birmingham, U.K., published a series of children's books with
BBC's Channel 4 about a calf called Biswas. There were objections
to one of her books because it opened with the mother of little
Biswas dying. Death in a children's book was taboo especially
when it did not happen to a wicked character in the story. In
contrast, our traditional stories for even the very young deal
with death in a most natural manner.
Strangely, taboos are not restricted to content and theme of
books but even to styles of illustrations and colour. Anyone who
has worked with children knows how naturally and easily they
absorb what seems alien and strange to adults. In the Indian
context, all of us who have grown up reading stories of elves and
fairies, scones and ginger ale, oak trees and toadstools know how
we have accepted and loved this "alien" world. It is unfortunate
that it is adults who decide what children should read, who
impose taboos instead of encouraging and enhancing children's
instinctive ability to live most comfortably with the diversities
around them. Paradoxically, though there is an upswing in
multicultural book publishing, taboos continue to be imposed and
are dictated by the dominant English language book market. We
will allow cultural specifities thus far and no further, seems to
be the stand. It is alarming how willingly parents, teachers,
writers, artists and publishers are promoting this highly
censored and restricted brand of multiculturalism.
To the question should there be taboos in children's literature,
my answer is no. Taboos imply censorship, curtailing writers'
freedom to write the way they choose. There are writers who work
comfortably within an ideological framework and others who prefer
to repeat a proven narrative formula. And there are other writers
whose work challenges traditional canons by being unpredictable,
innovative, subversive and risk-taking. Such writing most often
deals with issues that are taboo or considered unsuitable for
children. But in the hands of a talented writer, the same issues
are communicated with a sensitivity that opens the child's mind
in ways that more conventional books do not. Publishers with a
commitment to good writing, must defend and celebrate a writer's
freedom to challenge the prevailing complacencies. More
importantly, children should be given the choice to read a range
of books from the traditional and conventional to the more
challenging and unconventional if they are to become responsible
readers.
At this point I would like to bring up what may seem unrelated
incidents but which expose the more deep-rooted problems we
create by an attitude to childhood reinforced in the books
created for children. Many will remember the shock and horror
people experienced when they read about the shooting incidents in
schools in the U.S. involving boys. There was not one but several
such incidents. Evidence shows that they were planned
meticulously, making it more difficult to explain them away as
something done in a fit of uncontrolled anger. These incidents
portray a reality we find difficult to accept - the myth of
childhood innocence.
In 1994 Marina Warner made two points in referring to the much-
publicised James Bulger murder in the U.K., of particular
interest to those concerned with children's books. First, she
suggested that a culture which sets up what she called a
"nostalgic worship of childhood innocence" is likely to be
vengeful and punitive in its disappointed anger when children
fail to live up to its imagined ideal. The second point was her
suggestion that the myth of the innocent child is associated in
particular with children's books.
The image of the innocent child has been created and recreated -
in children's classics and in many contemporary stories. Writers
created and many continue to create an unreal world of privileged
children in pretty cottages with perfect families. Fortunately,
writers in countries where children's literature was discussed
and studied began resisting this sentimentalised portrayal of
childhood. Of course, there are always those who continue to
perpetuate this myth. But there is also a realistic recognition
that children can be selfish, devious and manipulative, much like
the adults around them. But there is reverence for the potential
and actual goodness of children, an understanding of their
different ways of seeing and a sympathy for their needs and their
vulnerability.
In India, however, this unreal portrayal of reality continues in
children's books. We have to only look at stories in school
textbooks to understand the extent of this. It is a world of
goody-goody children and adults versus the wicked and cruel ones
who are duly punished - all black and white, shades of grey being
quite clearly taboo. And this is not because of a lack of
talented and sensitive writers but because of a system -
perpetuated by the big publishers, distributors and book-buying
institutions like schools and libraries - that has failed to
allow for little else. It is important that we see the dangers of
such attitudes as it has a direct bearing on the compassion with
which we are able to deal the child victims of an increasingly
violent world.
Any discussion on Indian children's books is handicapped by a
culture that has not yet recognised the area of children's
literature as a serious area of study. Children's books sadly
reflect this lack of intellectual discourse and so there are
books that are clones of Western children's literature or tales
of morality from misconceptualised local cultures. Many of the
taboos imposed in children's books are a fallout of a colonial
past. It is a Victorian western attitude - which, ironically, the
West has got rid of and we are burdened with - which sees
children quite apart from the adult world and having to be
brought up protected from harsh realities. In stark contrast, the
Indian child in those early days grew up in joint families and
were very much part of an adult world with all its complexities.
Stories were tools to help children deal with that adult world.
The very purpose of the earlier and much-derided moral tales was
to assist in the eventual production of an adult and not a
perfect child.
To quote A. K. Ramanujan: "Even in the most urbane and
Westernised Indian households there exists, behind the prim
exterior, another India. It lives in tales of passion and
trouble, told to children by their grandmothers and servants as
the dusk descends". Thus, to tell children "tales of passion and
trouble" was seen as the most natural thing to do. The world of
Indian folklore (like in most oral storytelling cultures) is
fascinating and complex. Tales speak of what cannot usually be
spoken. What is supposed by analysts to be repressed and hidden
is open and blatant in these tales: love, betrayal, sexuality,
incest, rivalry, cruelty are all explored in these tales. To
quote Ramanujan again: "As these tales are usually told to
children in the context of the family, they are part of the
child's psychological education in facing forbidden feelings and
finding a narrative that will articulate and contain if not
resolve them - for the tellers as well as their young listeners".
A wonderfully liberating way of looking at stories and books for
children but which finds no reflection in the mass-produced books
which form the bulk of our children's literature.
More and more children grow up in nuclear families and single
parent families in a global culture driven by powerful market
forces. It is a rapidly-changing hi-tech world where they are
constantly exposed to conflicting and confusing messages about
values and attitudes. In such a context, the role of stories,
whether told or written, becomes even more crucial in helping
children discriminate and make informed choices at every stage in
their lives.
The publishing scene for children's books in India is at a
critical stage. After a long period of colonial influence when we
produced clones of British children's literature, there is now an
awareness of the need to break free of this. The focus now should
be to produce children's books that assimilate the deep
understanding of children's literature in the West and the
strengths of our own storytelling instincts; books that
strengthen and foster an understanding of cultural, ethnic,
racial and sexual identities. How else do we equip children to
deal with death, divorce, class and gender inequities, communal
and religious tensions, AIDS, teenage pregnancies, sexual abuse,
the dangers of consumerism ... the list is endless. If the world
has to be seen and portrayed to children in the light of the
present day through books, taboos have to be breached and new
styles and devices used in the best traditions of our oral
storytelling.
Publishers, teachers, parents and all concerned with children's
books have to overcome their own biases and be open to such
books. But a word of caution here. We should not fall into the
trap of promoting books "too obviously out to open children's
eyes to the problems of society and human relationships,
producing correct thinking documentaries rather than literature".
What is the benchmark then? I would like to quote a talented
writer, Poile Sengupta, on this: It is the range and depth of a
book, its sense of unshackled freedom that makes the writing
vivid, the book fun. And strangely enough, when this sense of
freedom is achieved, all those tiresome values creep in too, not
with bombast but softly, tinged with lovely colour". And taboos
have no place in such writing.
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