I didn’t have much of a YA phase when I was an actual young
adult. By my teens I wanted Stephen King and Noam Chomsky and whatever else
people my age weren’t supposed to be able to handle, just as I craved R-rated
movies and staying up past midnight. I wanted meatier fiction with more robust
characters and plots, and for authors to do more with their prose. It’s only in
recent years that I’ve tried to acquire a taste, or at least a respect for YA.
Among titles about teens, few excited me as much as Among Others. It stormed the early 2012
awards, and as soon as it was available at my library I seized the peach-colored
paperback. I found a folding chair and carried the book down to the lake, away
from phones and computer and human distractions. After slathering my Irish self
with sun tan lotion, I sat back to read of Jo Walton’s faerie-loving bookworm. “Morwenna,”
what an exotic name, and she was so reserved, so sympathetically introverted and brave and
well-read and well-meaning and timid and enchanting and wise within her inexperience. She was the archetype of a
child, and I could think of no adolescent trait she lacked.
A few dozen pages and a stiff wake shaking the dock later, I
looked up from the paperback. Behind me in the woods there was a girl screaming
at her wrinkled grandmother. The girl could have been the age I imagined Walton’s
protagonist to be, though she behaved nothing like what I’d been imagining as
she wriggled in her grandmother’s grip. I also hadn’t imagined Morwenna in a
pink bathing suit.
Most of what she screamed was raw noise, not words, since
protest is often the chief weapon of children. There were stray phrases about
how unfair she was, and how she was mean and she wished she were dead. The
grandmother was less audible over the shrieking, but I made out that the girl
had been swimming for an hour and they’d be late for something if they didn’t
leave now. “But I’m sorry,” I heard as they trekked towards a car in a hail of
juvenile wailing.
For several moments afterward it was difficult to look at
Among Others, not unlike the difficulty of meeting someone in the eyes after a
humiliation. I clucked my tongue at this portrait of a fictional girl and the
display of a real one in stereo.
“Realism,” I said. I had to laugh to myself. Fiction is
harder to get into when you’re hit with the reasons people mistake it for lies.
It's since come to my attention that Jo Walton does not consider her novel to be YA.
When fiction and reality clash...
ReplyDeleteOne of several reasons that I chose the self -pub route for White Pickups is that the teens are fairly realistic. They use bad language, they get all emotional, and two of them go at it like rabbits. Not so marketable.
ReplyDeleteI think Jo Walton has had trouble marketing her book. Not enough plot or high-action for many demographics of readers. It takes an intelligence that I enjoyed.
DeleteThere are a few things at play here: 1) I think you prefer your young adults to act like adults not teens, and 2) I don't think that kid at the lake was ten (maybe between six and eight). However, after looking into this book, I'm interested to give it a read. Maybe Monster and I can both read it and give you some feedback for how it compares to YA written for YA. The Last Child by John Hart is another book with a YA protag that was not written as YA. It actually has dual POV, the other being a detective, but I loved that book. The teen was mature, but still felt like a real teen to me. I wonder how you would feel about that one.
ReplyDeleteLarry - If you think YA books can't have bad language (f-bomb included) and sex, you haven't read enough YA books. It's much more common than you think.
If I have the opportunity, I'll not interact with children or teens at all. Miserable proto-people. People under the age of eighteen have tried to kill me at least twice as often as people over it. Any rumors that I'm a good babysitter or mentor are slander.
DeleteOur lake-kid was definitely older than eight or ten - way too big, somewhere in early puberty. I won't pretend to know the exact age because I stink at pegging year-ages, but I definitely recognized she wasn't a pre-YA.
I strongly recommend Among Others, actually. I reviewed it for Goodreads. It's a heck of a view of adolescence, even if, like many portraits of adolescence, it skips scenes like what I watched happen and recounted above. I was going to ask you about it, but didn't see you around online while I was reading it.
I've been a little scarce lateley, but feel free to ask me anything if you can remember your questions. As for the lake-kid, I assure most kids that age don't act like that...well, mine doesn't anyway. One breath of complaint and I hold out my hand, which means "hand over the cell phone", and she quietly does whatever has been asked. It's called discpline, and it's not used often enough. :)
DeleteWhen I was growing up, there were books for children and older readers, but it wasn't called YA. I never read books until I was 14 and then went straight into adult fiction via the auspices of Holden Caulfield and Meursault who seemed to be speaking directly to me. I have no problem with YA for like you know, teenage readers, but simply cannot fathom grown ups reading it, unless they are doing research for the YA title they are writing. But they can't all be using that excuse can they? As a phenomena it baffles me I'm afraid. There is a trend in British YA which is really gritty, about heroin addiction, sexual assault, murder and family break up. Ah the age of innocence...
ReplyDeleteIf YA appeals to an adult I'll generally endorse their reading it for entertainment, up until they complain about it. I will not tolerate an adult complaining about Twilight anymore.
DeleteHowever, there is an interest difference of opinion in the readership community. Some think YA is a meta-genre of fiction specifically written for young adults. Others tell me it's simply fiction about young adults. That latter is much more interesting to me, and contains many truly incredible works.
There's a huge difference between fiction about young adults and for young adults. I whole heartily agree with that statement.
DeleteOh yes that's why they call it fiction!
ReplyDeleteI've tried some of the mainstream YA and most of it doesn't seem real at all to me. I honestly don't know why so many teens and especially adults read it with the childishly basic plot devices and depth...but it does have sparkly warewolves or whatever.
ReplyDeleteHave you ever looked at a sunrise or a sunset and thought 'if someone painted this I would think it was way over the top and unbelievable'? In my fortunately limited experience YA can act out all the ages from 3 to 53 in an afternoon. And they have a pretty good grasp on emotions and manipulative behaviour as well. It is just as well that one of the things they can be is charming...
ReplyDelete