The 6th Grade book group discussed Framed by Frank Cottrell Boyce a week ago Tuesday, and they were very firm in their low opinion of the book, which didn’t surprise me.

Originally, I was going to try to replicate the kids’ comments on the book, but now so much time has elapsed that I don’t think I’ll be able to.  Suffice it to say that not one kid in the group liked the book much, they weren’t engaged by the characters, they couldn’t relate to the lifestyle and culture of the Welsh town in which Framed takes place, and they really didn’t see much humor in the book.  And surprisingly, not one of the kids attending the group that day had been intrigued enough by the paintings cited in the text to follow the link to the National Gallery and look at the paintings online.

Thank goodness that I had thought to bring in my laptop that day, and that I had created links to each painting on my favorites list.  Without question, the best part of our meeting that day was the time we spent looking at the paintings and discussing the paintings.  I even found a short narrated guided tour of the Mona Lisa which allows you to see the back of the painting and the repairs that have been made to the Mona Lisa over the years.  The kids were most engaged and interested while they were viewing the artwork, and I do think that seeing the art added immeasurably to their understanding of the book.  Had I been teaching this book in a school reading group, I would have been sure to introduce the art first and have those images in the minds of the readers as they read the story.

And my opinion of Framed?  I’d like to say that I loved the book.  It’s witty, subtle, totally unique, and laugh-out-loud funny at times.  But as I was reading the book, I had a sneaking suspicion that the kids would not like it.  Much of the humor is very British, and very grown-up.  Things that made me laugh flew over the heads of the kids in my group.  I’d love to know how British and Welsh kids react to this book; was my group’s lack of appreciation due to cultural differences, or to the humor being too sophisticated? 

So once again, I brought a very well-reviewed, highly regarded children’s book to my book group, and it fell flat for them.  Once again, the question arises:  how problematic is it that children’s literature is written by, published by, marketed by, and bought by adults?  I, for one, will never have an answer to that question.