Being the father of an almost-five year old and a book dweeb, I naturally enjoy reading her books with her — at least, as much as an adult can enjoy that sort of thing. The ones that are didactic are fairly innocuous in their delivery; they promote good manners, cooperation, learning, imagination, inventiveness (some of the A Bug’s Life offshoot books are good for that) and other things that aren’t politic-specific. Then there are some that have raised some red flags in that they hint at a collectivist politics, whether intended or not. This is not paranoia on my part, especially when some of these books are actively promoted as such.
As mentioned, most books don’t go either way, even if they are meant to be taken as such. Horton Hears A Who? is about the post-World War II American occupation of Japan (imperialism is a form of collectivism, keep in mind…a usually right-wing form), but it can be read without that allegorical attachment. For the older crowd, The Lord of the Rings series can be interpreted via Tolkein’s Catholicism or an expression of mild British nationalism (Tolkein said that the books were an artificial mythology for England), but they don’t need to be deconstructed to be enjoyed. Other times the collectivism is more obvious if one is attuned to it, like The Rainbow Fish.
In Rainbow, a fish with glittery scales is the envy of the ocean. Every other fish wants one of the rainbow fish’s scales, but it doesn’t want to give any out and thus doesn’t make many friends. The rainbow fish is seen as an uncharitable misanthrope, naturally, until it speaks to an octopus who advises him to essentially give up his property to the other fish. This will lead to some personal peace for the rainbow fish. While I can understand the motivations for charity or sharing on a personal level, it’s a little dislodging to think of others having a moral claim to the actual pieces of an individual’s body.
Or take The Selfish Crocodile. The titular character uses the threat of force to keep all the other animals out of his river. When he gets a toothache, a mouse removes the offending tooth, they become friends, and he eventually stops being a jerk enough to let everyone into the river. Not terribly collectivist outright, until you get to the line, “The river belongs to everyone!”. I have no problem with the idea of sharing but not with the idea of automatic collective ownership, but the four year old mind isn’t capable of parsing the nuances of the ethics of ownership.
Does this mean I’m going to stop reading these books to her? Course not! Instead it’s a great opportunity for discussing the idea of peaceful, voluntary exchange. For instance, if (very important “if”) the crocodile actually owned the river, or a part of it, he could satisfy demand for its use in exchange for something from which he could benefit. He could charge continuous dental services from the mouse (the crocodile did wonder what would happen if he got another toothache). If an animal thought they could benefit from the exchange, it would agree, and both parties would gain from the agreement.
Again, discussing books is much better than just reading them and leaving your kid to draw an uninformed conclusion without the gain of working through alternative ideas. It never hurts to explore other ideas, especially if you don’t agree with them. There’s no need to toss their well-written books, and a possible learning experience, aside just because of that.
2 Comments
Interesting, and I’ve read almost all of those books. haha. It’s sweet to see a parent that actually cares what their child learns, though.
It might be the first-child syndrome, where parents are uber-careful with how their first child is raised. Subsequent children…maybe not so much. I don’t know.