Care and Reading of the Young

A man plays his cello in a war-torn village square. A refugee family flees unspeakable horrors. A boy dreams of bombs and death. ... The war in Afghanistan? No, scenes from books for children.

Bleak settings and subject matter are not new in children’s literature. But in these post-attack days and worries of further terrorism, children’s books about war, trauma and loss--along with tales of hope, faith and firefighters--have gained increased visibility, thanks in part to the many suggested reading lists compiled after Sept. 11 by children’s literature advocates around the country.

Now, as parents and others may again be turning to those book lists for Christmas gifts, some in the normally cohesive world of children’s books caution against them. “Lists,” said Pete Cowdin, co-owner of Reading Reptile, a children’s bookstore in Kansas City, Mo., “are something you make when you go buy groceries.”

“Are these lists for kids?” asked bestselling children’s author Jon Scieszka, “or are they for adults to feel like they’re doing something for kids?”

Leonard Marcus, children’s literature historian and Parenting magazine’s longtime children’s book critic, was asked for reading suggestions but declined. The Brooklyn author, who lives one subway stop from the World Trade Center, said such lists give him the willies. “It puts a burden on a book,” he said.

Even the venerable Horn Book magazine, analyzing the fine points of children’s literature for more than 75 years, took issue with the idea. “In the aftermath of the attacks,” Editor in Chief Roger Sutton writes in the current issue, “we heard requests for children’s books that could ‘help.’ ... While such deployment of children’s books is responsive, timely and, perhaps, indeed, helpful, it allows literature only its most utilitarian level, evaluating books by what they are about and what ‘results’ they can give. This is the kind of thinking that gives books at once too much credit and not enough.”

But many organizations, such as the L.A.-based Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators, say their lists simply provide a starting point for dialogue between kids and adults about concepts such as freedom, war, tolerance and compassion. “Great children’s books can open doors and stimulate children to think about and examine these ideas,” says the group’s executive director, Lin Oliver.

Anita Silvey, former publisher of children’s books at Houghton Mifflin, offered reading suggestions for the Web site of Loose Leaf Radio Co., a public radio program about children’s books. But she also believes children deserve a wide choice of books at this time of conflict and anxiety. “Children have much more complex ways of processing reading than we ever give them credit for,” Silvey said.

Lois Lowry, author of “The Giver,” believes passionately in the “results” books can give. Not long after the death of her adult son, Lowry was caring for her son’s only daughter, who was not quite 2. When the child’s mother went out for the evening, the tot became hysterical. Lowry offered milk, toys, cookies--nothing helped. The frantic child finally went to a stack of picture books, flinging them one by one until she found what she was looking for: “Owl Babies,” a story about three owlets reunited with their mother. The girl commanded Lowry to read it to her over and over again.

“It was the most graphic and poignant observation I have ever made of the reassuring effect books can have on a frightened and anguished child,” said Lowry, two-time winner of the Newbery Medal for distinguished children’s literature. “Adults should be putting good books into the hands of children every day.”

The notion that books can heal--”bibliotherapy,” in the lexicon of mental health--has been a topic of debate within the tightly knit children’s literature community. But in the aftermath of Sept. 11, old arguments have become impassioned. While some believe books literally can save lives--the tell-it-like-it-is young adult novels of Spokane, Wash., author Chris Crutcher are often cited--others get queasy at the mere mention.

“A child’s book is not a dose of medicine that a child can take to make a problem or uncomfortable feeling go away,” said Parenting magazine’s Marcus.

While a specific book can’t be expected to cure children’s fears or answer all their questions, some believe there are titles that can ease the way for discussions of harsh issues. Among them are “Gleam and Glow” by Eve Bunting.

The Irish-born author and Pasadena resident has published more than 200 books, from cuddly to controversial. “Gleam and Glow,” illustrated by Peter Sylvada, is based on a true and rather serendipitous event that took place a decade ago in war-torn Bosnia. Like a number of the picture books on the Sept. 11-related lists, the cover (here depicting the pair of fish that gives the book its name) offers little indication of the harrowing descriptions to come. But inside, against the story’s grim backdrop, hopeful themes prevail.

Rukhsana Khan wrote “The Roses in My Carpets” after visiting a refugee camp in Peshawar, Pakistan, in 1992. The book, illustrated by Ronald Himler, tells of a refugee boy who dreams each night of bombs and jets “tearing the fabric of the sky.” Khan, a Pakistani-born Canadian, says she hopes the book will help children, and possibly adults, gain a greater perspective.

Jane Cutler’s “The Cello of Mr. O,” illustrated by Greg Couch, tells of a famous musician who dares to play music alone in the middle of his battle-besieged village square, only to see his cello destroyed by a mortar shell. The cellist finds the courage to return to the square, to play Bach on his harmonica.

“Children are philosophers,” says Cutler, who spoke recently to parents in San Francisco about her book in light of the attacks. “They ask questions. They want to know. ... For adults to comfort themselves by treating children as people who know no more about the world than what the adults provide for them, and then providing them only with cuddly bedtime stories, is to do children a great disservice.”

Marcus says it doesn’t matter what you choose to read. In the days after the attacks, he couldn’t imagine any book being specific or intimate enough to help.

Still, as he and his son picked up where they left off on their nightly reading--the final pages of “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,” in which the evil Voldemort makes his apocalyptic return, Marcus couldn’t but feel a certain resonance with the day’s events.

Anything read in a time of crisis probably becomes charged with extra meaning, he said. What counts is the shared experience and closeness that reading together brings.