Monday, October 13, 2008

"A Box Marked Children Only"

Reading along in Walking on Water the other day, I was struck anew by this paragraph:

"The artist, if he is not to forget how to listen, must retain the vision which includes angels and dragons and unicorns, and all the lovely creatures which our world would put in a box marked Children Only."

What else goes into that box on a regular basis, I wonder? It seems like we're okay with writing beautiful stories and stories of wonder for children, but for adults we think it all has to be pragmatic and "realistic." I put that last in quotes because I think what Madeleine is reminding of us here is that we need to broaden our vision of what's real to include things that are unseen or only usually talked about in the realm of imagination.

And there's the connection between listening and vision again...which we talked about in the earlier post.

2 comments:

Erin said...

I love her point about how if a story isn't good enough for a child, it isn't good enough for an adult, and I seem to remember Lewis saying much the same thing. It almost seems that children are more sophisticated readers than adults much of the time, that an ability to accept that which may be denied by skeptics is a mark of being in touch with a deeper reality. It makes me think a lot about The Silver Chair, and all those persuasive arguments against the existence of Narnia and Aslan, so valiantly withstood by Puddleglum...

I also got a kick out of her stories of people dismissing the writing of children's books. It reminds me of the old story about Dr. Seuss going to some sort of party and being told by a doctor that he enjoyed writing children's books as a hobby. "I, too, have a hobby," replied Seuss. "Brain surgery." ;)

Beth said...

Oh, great Seuss quote! Wouldn't you have loved to be standing right next to them at that party? Though I suspect I would have spewed my drink in wonderful mirth. :-)

I think you're right about children being more sophisticated, or more receptive, readers. In addition to being able to handle more reality, children seem to intuit when a story works and when it doesn't -- the ones they love tend to be the ones that really do tell a story from beginning to end in a satisfying way. So much of what passes for "literary fiction" amidst adults these days feels neither "real" nor like a real narrative that satisfies story hunger.

I think pulp or genre fiction for adults tends to be taken less seriously (along with "children's lit") because it too seems to take story-telling seriously. But we've seen how the best "genre" writers can infuse their work with symbolic layers and rich characterization, in the service of the story. Look at what Dorothy Sayers did with murder mysteries!