Thursday, November 8, 2018

When in Doubt, Try JFIC



It’s been somewhat of a dry spell in my reading life lately. (Granted, my “reading life” is rather redundant, as reading is inextricable from my “regular” life.) I fell seven books behind in my Goodreads Annual Challenge. SEVEN! Unheard of! Perish the thought!

Not helping was the fact that I accidentally left Henry VIII as the last of the Shakespeare plays for me to read--and it was SO boring! This would have struck me as impossible, considering the rather colorful life of Henry VIII, except I remembered that Shakespeare was writing during the reign of his daughter Elizabeth I…and therefore probably cut out the juicy drama in order to preserve her patronage and his head. I will say that it was somewhat amusing, Shakespeare trying to please everyone by making all the characters (Queen Katherine, King Henry, Anne Boleyn AKA “Bullen”) over-the-top noble and innocent rather than crafty and power-hungry politicians. And the end of the play is basically “Hey look Elizabeth I has been born and is now blessed with awesomeness forevermore!”

That said, I was glad to have finished off that most recent, and ultimately disappointing, stack of books next to my bed, and so excited to pull some other books off the shelf that showed more promise.

Along with Manxmouse that my mom read aloud to me, there have been a few books from my childhood I’ve been thinking about recently. These were books I read just as I began to read independently, and I remember reading them over and over…except I couldn’t remember the name of one of them. I knew it had a little girl in it who was excited about going to school…it was set in “olden times” (viz., 1900 or older).

With a little more digging in my memory (“I think the cover was green…), and with an open search browser, I was able to hunt down the title of the book: Schoolhouse in the Woods by Rebecca Caudill.  

But wait! It turns out that this was actually part of a series which my eight-year-old self never knew! (Ah, the wonders of the internet age!) The series is The Fairchild Family Stories, the first of which is Happy Little Family.

I know what you’re thinking. “Happy Little Family” sounds saccharine and oversimplified, like Dick and Jane or something. While these books were indeed written during the era where everything geared toward children was naïve and sugar-coated, I have to say even my adult self is impressed.

I’ve only read the first two books at this point, but they’re easily one of the books I’d recommend—to both children and adults. These stories follow the “Happy Little Family” of Fairchilds: Father, Mother, Althy, Chris, Emmy, Debby, and Bonnie. Nowadays that’s not considered a “little” family, but these stories seem to be set in the late 1800s, and the fact is that it wasn’t unusual for families to have children in the double digits (though mortality rates meant that many of these children did not survive to adulthood).

The stories focus on the perspective of the youngest daughter Bonnie, who is four in Happy Little Family and five in Schoolhouse in the Woods. It follows her struggles as the youngest: often overlooked in the hubbub of her siblings’ busy lives, wishing she were big enough to do the things she’s excluded from, and living with hand-me-downs.

There isn’t much “peril” or even hardship in these books, yet Caudill’s gentle wit and beautiful descriptions of the Fairchild’s world keeps it from becoming maudlin and unbearable. Also helpful are the absolutely charming line drawings by Decie Merwin that illustrate the events perfectly.

This is exactly the sort of story I loved as a child, and sad to say I don’t think contemporary juvenile fiction (JFIC) has produced anything similar. (If there are, I’d certainly like to read them!) Modern storytellers too often rely on flashy settings (like the paranormal), rude or sarcastic humor, and situations where the child characters are more capable than their inept or clueless parents. These sorts of stories can be fun, sure, but it’s not the sort of storytelling that sticks with you.

I doubt, for instance, that children will look back on those books twenty years from now and search them out to re-read.

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