Today, children, I shall go on a rant. But first, a bit of personal history. Back when I was about ten, I finally got hold of some adult literature¹ other than the King James Bible. You see, my folks weren't great readers, and our home library consisted mostly of religious literature, engineering books, and my mom's old copy of Shakespeare, which I read to pieces. But I was dying for some decent reading.

Other than the daily newspaper, of which I was a big fan, I was stumped. My school 'library' – a room we were allowed to visit once a week – provided 'age-appropriate' stuff. Once I'd read all the Thornton W Burgess books, I was out of luck. When a teacher tried to make me read AA Milne, I rebelled. 'Yuck,' I said, succinctly.

Many, many years later, I stumbled across Dorothy Parker's review of The House at Pooh Corner. In it, the brave Ms Parker remarked, 'And it is that word "hummy," my darlings, that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weader fwowed up.' I couldn't have put it better myself – even at ten years old. Yuck, indeed.

Fortunately for me, I had good teachers. Generous teachers. Ladies who casually left their own reading at the back of the classroom – text-hungry kids, for the enlightenment of. Thanks to two of these wonderful women, I had soon read John Hersey's Hiroshima, along with a lot of other adult Stuff the librarians didn't want me to see.

I developed an aversion to Kiddie Lit at an early age. This is not to say that I don't appreciate good children's literature – Thornton W Burgess' understanding of folklore and nature is peerless, and Beverly Cleary's books are must-reads, trust me, that will even have a grown-up rolling on the floor. But most children's literature tends to oversimplify. And that's what's wrong with 'grown-up' writing, as well.

I think it was Vladimir Nabokov who remarked that Americans like to eat children's food, play children's games, and enjoy children's stories. Alas, through the miracle of international entertainment, that trend is now global. And herein lies my rant: just as people have been tricked into eating denatured fast-food substitutes for their own nourishing cuisine, they have been duped into accepted childish substitutes for real storytelling.

It matters not how elaborate the CGI, how massive the explosions, or how 'A-List' the cast: if the storyline is drivel, it's kiddie lit, and I say the H with it. The lack of nuance, characterisation, even a scintilla of ethical thinking, makes this kind of blockbuster stuff not only an insult to our intelligence, but downright dangerous. The Germans have a word for it: Volksverdummung. That means, 'making people stupid'.

What is wrong with Star Wars? The fact that it takes place in outer space? That the spaceships go 'Whoosh!' in a vacuum? That people wear silly costumes? No. It's the fact that the plots insult your intelligence, and the dialogue seems to have been made up by a 10-year-old on a sugar rush.

'Oh,' fans say, 'But it's deep' It's about the struggle between Good and Evil.

Ex-CUSE me? The struggle between Good and Evil? Define this.

'Er…well, Good is, you know, good. And Evil is…well, you know, like the people our government tells us to go to war with…'

Exactly.

Buffy, the Vampire Slayer reads like kiddie lit, because its deepest 'insights' are nothing more than pop culture references. The X-Files, when it works, is grown-up literature, because hidden in the ludicrous latex monster plots is a philosophical discussion – a nuanced one – about the goal of human inquiry and the responsibility of the individual to act ethically. One episode actually demonstrates abductive reasoning.

Star Trek: The Next Generation may not have the special effects budget of, say, a Marvel comics franchise, but you won't see the Anglo-Saxon school of philosophers quoting Thor anytime soon. You will see academic papers discussing what Data did, no lie. And with good reason: these stories aren't about Good and Evil, they're about Thinking. Something we should do more of, at least once in a while.

It isn't the subject matter. Fantasy is fine: look at what Terry Pratchett does with it. One day, by his own account, Pratchett turned on his car radio and heard a folk song: Sweet Polly Oliver. He sat down and wrote Monstrous Regiment. Yes, it takes place in the Discworld. So what? It's an insightful look at gender issues. Yes, there are a lot of jokes. What's wrong with a lot of jokes? You want a manifesto, go read a speech.

Yes, we can make up space stories. Fantasy stories. Stories about improbable and ridiculous events. But once we've dressed the characters up, they need to have somewhere to go. We need to ask the questions, perform the thought experiments, listen to the answers…in short, we need to talk like grown-ups, and not petulant children.

Okay, I apologise for the rant. But you see what I mean. In a minute, I'm going to reward you for reading this drivel by linking you to some real entertainment. But first, a warning: do not post anything about Hawwy Pottah at the bottom of this page. Or any defences of AA Milne. Start your own journal threads. Any comments in defence of preciousness for its own sake will go unanswered by me.

And now, the reward

Just so you stop yawning, I have some good freebie listening for you. Back in the late 1940s and early 1950s, some top-notch journalists at CBS created a radio series called You Are There. These people were some of the best journalists in all of history. They were also known for their integrity. Their research was, frankly, astounding in the pre-internet age.

You Are There uses a ridiculous conceit to tell historical tales. Whatever happened in history – the Battle of Hastings, the Fall of Pompeii, the assassination of Julius Caesar – CBS radio reporters were there, giving you the up-to-the-minute news. Yes, there's a great deal of humour involved. And boy, is this educational.

Here is the link to a cache of them at archive.org. Choose your favourite historical episodes, and give a listen. Those of you who choose to listen to 'The Capture of John Wilkes Booth' should be aware of one thing: that's Walter Cronkite talking about Lincoln's funeral train. Americans of a certain age all remember vividly how Mr Cronkite broke down when he had to announce the death of John F Kennedy – years after he made this fantasy broadcast. Funny old thing, history.

Now, that's grown-up entertainment.

Writing Right with Dmitri Archive

Dmitri Gheorgheni

28.04.14 Front Page

Back Issue Page