Pure Escapism Response

In Maggie Stiefvater’s article of Pure Escapism For Young Adult Readers she explains her opinions on why the dystopian trend is so popular among teenagers and why it will continue to grow within the next several years. She explains that she doesn’t believe teenagers are reading dystopian novels because “the darkness of the subject matter” reflects their lives, but instead they find it interesting. She states that teenagers wouldn’t want to read dystopian novels if it actually reflected their lives because, “Would we be so enamored with dystopian fiction if we lived in a culture where violent death was a major concern?” Instead they read and follow the dystopian trend because it’s simply satisfying to them. Young adults like reading novels about what’s right and wrong, but while reading the novels they have to find where the good is.

I agree with the author that teenagers aren’t reading the dystopian trend because it reflects them but because they find it interesting. The whole purpose of reading is to have your imagination run free and to create an outlet of another world for yourself. I think young adults are able to relate to the characters in dystopian societies because, like the characters, the teenagers want to fight for what’s right; they want to take a stand, speak out, and change their community (or world) for the better. The connection I made with The Giver by Lois Lowry is the “black and white choices” Stiefvater mentions. Jonas was always perceived as different and that was made clear when he was named the Receiver. Jonas thought his society was “polite” and “acceptable” until the Giver gave him memories. He then learns that his community lives without passionate emotions, individuality, and creativity. His world fell on either side of the black and white spectrum but never in-between. We see that Lowry creates a story where finding the good or evil in a character is hard because he/she doesn’t know right versus wrong or good versus evil.

Responding to Scott Westerfeld

Westerfeld argues that teenagers are fondly prone to attract to stories or novels that depicts systems breaking down under its own contradictions. Teenagers are in a stage where they must cope with adult responsibilities including school, work, yet they are not fully granted with such adult powers to gain respect. With the two extremes he describes, dystopia and apocalypse, signifies the “Uglies”. This meaning constitute how a society based on surveillance and control would have “zero tolerance. I agree with Westerfield’s argument. I believe that in today’s society, teenagers experiences luck in waking up every morning with a place to stay, eating approximately three meals a day and getting an education to better their future. As a result, teenagers would break away from a structured life filled with many rules, regulations and restrictions. In The Giver, we see the moment when Jonas breaks away from the norm of his community due to becoming the Receiver of Memory. He possesses more wisdom than anyone in his community but his youth makes it possible for him to receive the memories and learn from them. Reading these types of books gives teenagers a different aspect on life, one that they are not accustomed to, but arouses their suspicions and curiosity in such a way.

Jay Parini’s insight to dystopian novels in YA lit

Jay Parini, who wrote a blog post on teenage interest in YA lit in 2011, suggests that young adult readers turn to dystopian novels as a way to escape the stifling world of standardized testing and the watchful eye of the system as a whole. To teenagers, this “system” works to turn them into adults and to “separate the sheep from the goats.” While I do agree that current dystopian novels work so well because they take aspects of reality–such as an ever-present surveillance system–and makes the audience think about the real world, I do believe that the popularity of such books stems from interest with the genre itself without feeling “trapped” by the system that they are in. Even with the example of The Hunger Games, its massive popularity stemmed from various reasons (strong female protagonist, romantic plot that surfaces in the midst of the novel’s chaos, and the Battle Royale-style of picking a group of young adults to fight to the death); finding that as any “escape” from the world of standardized tests, Facebook status updates, and demanding adult figures could only work to explain a handful of novels in the genre.

Andrew Clements On Poe and Dystopian Fiction

Clements argues, primarily from his own experience as a young reader, that fiction that explores the evils of the world is necessary for children as their understanding expands. He recalls growing bored with books in which conflict was minimal, relegated to small disputes that typically culminated in a Happy Ending, as he began to discover that the world can be really dark. He also states that today’s dystopian stories are most likely so dark due to the increased visibility of violence and evil via the internet and other media that did not exist during his childhood or Poe’s time. I completely agree with Clements, echoing that Sendakian notion that children are complex people who are not blind to evil, even if we wish they were. I had a similar experience to Clements as well–one minute I was reading pretty bland middle school fare, and the next I was devouring 1984, followed soon by A Clockwork Orange, armed with my trusty printed-off-Sparknotes Nadsat dictionary.

The commentary definitely relates to The Giver, especially in terms of Jonas’s growth. I like to think of the book as, on one level, about growing up and learning that the world that has been constructed for you by trusting adults is largely a farce. This hits home for me in a very specific and vital way: Everyone has to learn not only that people suffer and die, that Santa doesn’t exist, that falling in love is hard and painful, but also that most if not all of what we learn about history as children is romanticized. We don’t find out about the horrors our forefathers have committed (genocide, de facto racism, and reproductive violence en masse to name a few) unless we seek out these truths for ourselves.

“The Comfort of Darkness” Response

Faustino contends that the “dark” themes of YA dystopian novels are no different from the themes found in classic YA novels known for their “gritty realism,” such as The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier or The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton. She further explains that the only difference lies within the fantastical elements of dystopian novels like the setting of The Hunger Games. She contends that the main goal of these novels is to understand how to hold onto our individuality, humanity, and connections to others while facing an uncertain future.

I agree with Faustino’s point. I think that, while YA novels that she mentions like Feed or Harry Potter have obviously impossible circumstances (zombies and wizards), the themes explored can be found in YA books with real settings and no fantasy elements. For example, in the Chocolate War, the protagonist struggles with questions of ethics and morals of the leaders in charge of his boarding school. In Harry Potter, the same questions are explored…just with wizards.

I think Faustino’s view relates to The Giver in that the “darkness” of the novel comes less from the Dystopian elements, and more from the human element that raises questions about our future as a group and as individuals. This is the aim and the benefit of all YA novels.

The Comfort of Darkness

Lisa Rowe Fraustino claims that children’s fiction has been dark for some time now, going as far back and further than Robert Cormier’s novels like The Chocolate War and I Am the Cheese, as well as works such as “The Outsiders” that came out somewhat earlier. The most successful and enduring works written for young adults are and have historically been fairly dark. The popularity of the dystopian novel in particular is due, at least thematically, to the desire create a dark shadow that exacerbates the problems that are apparent in our contemporary lives. Fraustino feels that the ultimate goal of this kind of dystopic fiction is to allow us to follow the protagonist that “makes us feel hope for humankind,” and to fight that force that creates jadedness and provide it with a kind of mascot for individuality and hopefulness.

I think Fraustino has a point, especially in regards to how readers feel about these heroic figures. There’s something incredibly fascinating and relatable about the character that stands up and fights in the face of something like a dystopia. I would go so far as to say that readers, even full aware of the unpleasantness and unhappiness in their fight, want to be those kinds of characters. It’s nice to have something to be willing to fight and die for.

I think Fraustino’s point about the desire to follow the individual is most relevant to The Giver. I remember reading the book when I was in middle school, and that was what I remembered the most. I remember looking at Jonas and being pleased about the actions he’d taken to do what he felt he must do. My favorite part of the book has always been when Jonas makes the decision to no longer take his Stirrings pills and throws them away. This moment was always incredibly significant for me, especially as a young reader. It’s really one of the few things we see Jonas do that’s truly for himself and no one else. He’s not trying to save someone or make a positive change for The Community, he just likes the way he feels without them. It’s that kind of action that’s so effective at endearing these characters to readers.

 

Response to “The Comfort of Darkness”

Fraustino argues that young adult literature has always been dark and that authors like Cormier and Hinton pushed the envelope of what was acceptable for young people to read. While their novels, which could be considered precursors of the apocalpytic, dystopic YA novel, took place in the present, with their teen protagonists struggling against the demands of their challenging but by no means dystopic worlds, modern novels of the genre often feature protagonists faced with Herculean feats and much higher stakes. Fraustino argues that this is because people, including teens and young adults, are more aware than ever of the peril the world is under, from war to climate change, so that it’s not only their own domestic issues they’re facing but those of the world. This leads to a sense of uncertainty that can only be quelled by the sense of hope a dystopic YA novel features, where it suddenly becomes possible that one person, and a young one at that, can affect change and fix or maybe even save the world.

I agree that this is largely the appeal of dystopic YA novels. In a world saturated by media capturing every bleak moment the world has to offer, it’s become easier to see the world as being dystopic. And when these problems seem so mounting and irreversible, it’s seductive to read a book in which a world much worse than our own can be fixed by the sheer will and triumphs of a teenager. These novels justify teenagers’ fears of growing up while assuring them that they can and will come out on top.

This explanation relates to The Giver in many ways. Jonas’s world is arguably an extension of our own, one of constant surveillance and powerful governments; for many young readers, the community’s demanding sameness, the endless rules, and the grouping of people into categories must seem all too familiar. But Jonas is one young person who sees injustice and decides to take a stand; although the ending is ambiguous, we believe that Jonas’s world does change for the better because of his efforts. There’s also something seductive about a world with no hunger or warfare or pain, but young readers soon see the downfalls of such a system.

Dystopian Themed Novel Response

Author: Maggie Stiefvater

Article Title: “Pure Escapism For Young Adult ReadersThe author’s opinion to the questions posed, “Why do bestselling young adult novels seem darker in theme now than in past years? What’s behind this dystopian trend, and why is there so much demand for it?” differs from the average, standard response. According to the author, the standard response is similar to the idea that “these dark, pessimistic times with the economy and culture; the darkness of the subject matter reflects those fears.” However, she believes quite the opposite. The dark novels that are becoming continual bestsellers today are not because these novels reflect the world of young adult readers. Instead, Stiefvater believes that the love for dystopian themed novels are because young adults aren’t facing these issues; because of that, they lack the ideas of what is right versus what is wrong: “Teenagers want to be able to fight for what is right – but finding out what’s right is now 90 percent of the battle…with the dystopian novels, we know just what we’re fighting for” (Stiefvater). With the complex world we live in today, young adults are satisfied with the choices presented to them through dystopian themed novels.

I must say that I agree with the author. We are living in a complex world where morals aren’t black and white. Trying to decipher what is good versus what is bad can become complicated. Dystopian novels lay a clear path for young adult readers to make choices on what they choose to fight for. As Stiefvater stated in her response, “Teenagers want to be able to fight for what is right – but finding out what’s right is now 90 percent of the battle.” However, with dystopian novels, what’s right and wrong is clear. There’s no battle in trying to figure it out. These novels don’t reflect our society as young adult readers, but they sure do satisfy it.

The author’s commentary is directly related to The Giver. The Giver is another dystopian novel where the morals are laid out in black in white, simple enough for a young adult reader to grasp. Jonas, the main character of the story, is an example of a young adult who can’t see right from wrong until he is exposed to dystopia – a world outside of the world he knows. It’s from this knowledge that Jonas is able to fight for what he believes is right. This idea is directly correlated to the author’s point of view of dystopian novels giving us an idea of exactly what we’re fighting for. The Giver is so widely popular, not because it reflects our society, but because it’s so simplified that it satisfies our desires to want to fight for what’s right – in fact, it’s so black and white (the idea of a controlled, robot society versus a society of emotions and memory) that we are able to fight for what’s right; there’s no battle in trying to figure it out.

Responding to Paolo Bacigalupi

Bacigalupi believes that “stories of broken futures” ring true and appeal to young adults because they know perfectly well that the world is broken or breaking (on a number of levels–he focuses on environmental and energy crises in the essay, but what little I’ve read of his work also deals with economic problems, fundamental inequalities, abuses of power, and how people with power are insulated from the people they’re harming), and they are choosing honest storytelling over “a lie.”

I do agree, as far as that goes. I’ve heard similar arguments before (here is one of my favorite versions), and they feel right. I can still enjoy what’s sometimes called “escapist” fiction, and I can enjoy older, more optimistic works, but dystopian lit appeals to me by first addressing that particular brand of cynical awareness that I’m not sure my parents had as kids. I do, however, think that it’s incomplete: the best dystopian stories begin in that dark, cynical place and bring it round to, if not optimism, then at least some hope–whether that’s a revolution or the characters learning from their or their ancestors’ mistakes and coming together to do better. (Although the Bacigalupi stories I’ve read…don’t. They take their protagonists to the brink of despair, throw one last insurmountable obstacle at them, and end. Or they give the protagonist a stroke of luck that highlights how horrible human beings are to each other, and end.)

I think “The Giver” appeals to a slightly earlier stage in the development of the awareness I mentioned: the point where we’re looking at the world around us and seeing the cracks for the first time. Other dystopias appeal to later stages, where we’ve confirmed and accepted the broken world (and maybe have gotten mired in it, in which case the sort of story that brings us round to hope is especially important). “The Giver” starts from a place of accepting the spotless surface of the world, and shows the process of realizing that it’s not perfect.

Jaclyn Martin

Reflecting on the Genre: Distopic Novels

Fraustino believes that the struggles experienced by protagonists in distopian literature compel us not only because they give us “hope for humankind,” but also because we can relate to their struggles to stay true to their goodness and not succumb to the pervasive darkness of the world around them. I agree with this statement. I believe that a large part of the appeal in distopian literature is to demonstrate the struggle between giving in to the challenges that surround us–which often inspire the exaggerated evils in distopian worlds–and triumphing over them through resistance. Jonas experiences this throughout the novel, but in particular while he is escaping. We see him wishing for an easy way out of his situation–to return home and try to live a “normal” life. But due to his morals and newfound worldview, giving in to the distopian society would not even be what he could consider “living” any longer. His virtue dictates his actions and choices rather than his inherent desires.