I noticed something very interesting this past week while reading books to the kids at the elementary school:  there are some picturebooks that I thought were fabulous when they arrived at the library and I read them to myself, but those same books seem ponderous, heavy-handed, and didactic when read aloud to a group of children.

For instance, I loved Tim Egan’s The Pink Refrigerator, a story about a rat (I think he’s a rat) named Dodsworth who runs a thrift shop and spends most of his life sitting in an easy chair watching his favorite T.V. shows.  On one of his daily trips to the junkyard to find items to sell at his shop, Dodsworth happens upon a pink refrigerator that provides him with inspirational messages (“Read more” – “Paint pictures” – “Play music” – “Learn to cook” – “Keep exploring”) and with the tools to follow those messages: paints and a sketchbook, a set of books, ingredients and a cookbook.  Inevitably, Dodsworth becomes so wrapped up in each of these new activities that he stops watching his television shows, and eventually he bicycles off to explore and find the ocean.

It sounded great when I read it to myself, but as I read it aloud to several third grade classes, it felt more and more preachy.  I kept reading it to the classes mostly to observe their reactions to it – and not surprisingly, the kids weren’t entirely sold on the book.  No negative comments from them, but no positive ones, either. 

Other books that I read last week that felt message-laden when read aloud were: Dexter Bexley and the Big Blue Beasty by Joel Stewart, A Visitor for Bear by Bonnie Becker, Duck at the Door by Jackie Urbanovic, and Gorilla, Gorilla by Jeanne Willis.  Dexter Bexley was a total flop, hated by the kids and not enjoyed much by me either, so I dropped that one from my repetoire almost immediately.  The message in A Visitor for Bear isn’t so heavy-handed, and it allows the reader to play with the characters’ voices, so I continued to read that book to a good reception.  Duck at the Door is just funny enough that the kids and I didn’t mind its message of tolerance, and I do still love that Gorilla, Gorilla has a great twist on prejudice at the end (though I haven’t quite figured out what I think of the racial undertones – a small white mouse terrified of a giant black gorilla who turns out to be her child’s savior and her own protector…hmmm…as I think about it more, quite the politically correct white man’s book).

I read other books this past week, too:  the Balinese folktale-based Go To Sleep, Gecko by Margaret Read MacDonald (which I love for its unashamed multiple mentions of buffalo poop – shocks the adults in the room each time that I read it, heh, heh, heh);  Tiger Can’t Sleep by S.J. Fore, a book that always goes over well with a young crowd because it’s funny; Princess Pigsty by Cornelia Funke (once again, quite a heavy message, this time of being yourself, but Funke does know her audience, and I’ve never had a flop with this book); Previously by Allan Ahlberg (which went way over the heads of the fourth graders, and was only appreciated by a few fifth graders – I could tell that they thought it was babyish, though it’s really quite sophisticated); One-Eye! Two-Eyes! Three-Eyes! by Aaron Shepherd (based upon the Grimm fairy tale, with a few humorous twists – the prince and Two-Eyes live happily ever after, of course, because they have so much in common…they both have two eyes); and my personal favorite to read to fifth graders, Mr. Maxwell’s Mouse by Frank Asch and Devin Asch (more about why it’s my favorite in the next post).

Lots and lots of messages in these books.  Be yourself.  Don’t watch too much television.  Everything is connected.  Some things you just have to put up with, even if they’re annoying.  The scary beast in your closet might be just as scared of the dark as you are.  Friends are good, better than being alone.  Don’t prejudge people by their appearance.  If you love someone, you just might have to put up with their personality quirks (and other friends).

Is it just me, or do we adults primarily use picturebooks to teach and preach?  Yes, it’s a fact that a society needs and wants to pass on its structure and morals to the next generation, but can’t that next generation also have books that are just good reads?  Why so many messages?  Why has bibliotherapy become such a prevalent disease?  Are these difficult concepts best taught through the reading aloud of a book, or is it better to talk to your kids directly about how to be a good person and navigate the waters of life? 

I don’t remember my mother or father using books as therapy or teaching tools (this doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen, but I certainly don’t remember it).  I do, however, remember having long talks with my parents, and most especially my mother, about life and interpersonal relations and sticky situations.  Rather than teach me through a book’s plot, Mom talked to me about what was actually happening in my life and how to handle it.  If I had a problem with my best friend, we’d work it out, come up with a plan of action, and then follow-up the next day to process whether the plan had been successful. 

But then, my mother was a gifted teacher, and her talents and great patience are not common.  So perhaps these message-laden books are a necessary evil in today’s world of two-income, stressed out families with little time to sit and chat and tease out the intricacies of life.  I don’t really know.  But I do wish the messages could be a bit more subtle, or perhaps even non-existent.