Children’s Books: An Indian Story

“Children’s Books: An Indian Story” works rather like the kaavad of the travelling storyteller in the way it opens up many windows, rooms and dimensions of the history of storytelling in India and invites the reader to imagine future possibilities. Recounting the narrative becomes like a journey mapping the many different paths that have led to where we are today and the directions in which we may go.

The cover itself – back and front – designed by Taposhi Ghoshal is very inviting to any browser or reader. It seems to light up the fantastical possibilities of reading, so unlike the dusty, drab scene of the typical classroom where reluctant children are compelled to pore over the textbook.

The authors have the breadth and vision to engage with multiple genres, diverse readers and complex issues. The book comes at the right time to fill a much needed gap as an informative, practical and reflective study and guide on the subject. Many of the topics dealt with, such as ‘Books for Children with Special Needs’ or ‘Representing Diverse Childhoods’, create a platform for further study and “Children’s Books” will hopefully encourage teachers, researchers and librarians to explore yet further.

Each chapter is written by a professional and passionate author who has been able to write in a lively and concise way about their particular area of expertise from an insider’s point of view, be it translation, publication, inclusion or interaction with readers. The editors have succeeded in bringing together a wide range of voices and perspectives that include the reader, the editor, the librarian, the community worker, the author and the illustrator. The advantages of such a rich collaboration are evident and together the writers have created a panoramic view of the subject.

Although the scope is wide and ambitious there is an underlying modesty that is expressed in the section entitled, ‘What this book is not’. Literature in regional languages, for example, is only lightly touched on and there is an undue emphasis on books published in English. It does not claim to be an academic book – if by academic is meant abstract and theoretical – but it is grounded in practice and reflection that give the book rigour.

Many of the writers are practioners and they pose questions to the reader that have come out of their own experience and quest for authenticity. Deepa Balsavar suggests that students in art and design schools should ask themselves, “Who am I ? ” before asking “Who am I doing this for?” Jerry Pinto, for example, shares his questions about the process of translation, “Every translator needs to consider . . . How far will one go before one acknowledges how little one knows? How does one now deal with this humbling knowledge? What sense of self can survive this kind of journey?”

Keerthi Mukunda’s account of her reading journey offers a nuanced and sensitive approach to what makes an active reader. It is a timely reminder that there are diverse, unpredictable and unchartered pathways to become a reader for life. It is often not a straightforward route but a circuitous, meandering but meaningful one!

Following the lucid introduction there is a powerful chapter on the foundations of the printed text resting on the rich oral traditions of storytelling. Importantly, the author also stresses its potential to continue to shape the ways stories are created and shared. It is an insightful comment on the nature of the oral story as something organic and fluid. Deepa Kiran cites A. K. Ramanujan’s re-telling of the folk story of the carpenter who speaks of his chisel as a precious heirloom, while inadvertently admitting that over time both the handle and the blade have been changed! Several other writers in the course of the book, including Thejaswi Shivanand, elaborate on this ‘continuum’ from orality to print.

While there is an irrepressible air of celebration in sharing the history of children’s literature in India many of the authors do raise a number of serious issues that prompt urgent action as to how to widen and deepen children’s experience, of reading. There is a serious lament on the way that regional language books are minimal in comparison to the dominant English and Hindi books that flood more than half the market. How can parents, teachers and even librarians be encouraged to be more discerning in their curation of books? How can children’s voices be more clearly heard even though they are not in a position to purchase books? How can picture books and the image be validated for older readers and not dismissed as a stage to be passed through and left behind?

The book challenges a number of platitudes about children’s literature, for example that children’s books are largely entertainment for the naive young and that extends to the teenager. Few would disagree that most children (and adults) enjoy and delight in stories but there is a need to probe and understand more deeply what that involves. As Sujata Noronha writes, transacting books with children is not only about giving pleasure but also ‘ a deeply political act of making choices.’ In the chapter on “Engaging Children Through Literature in Early Language Classrooms” there is an insightful discussion on the layers of pleasure in engaging with literature. One aspect is surely to be safely within your zone of comfort and “to have familiar experiences confirmed” but another is “to be unsettled or disrupted in one’s ways of thinking and being in the world”.

A number of writers explore the question of ‘Who writes/illustrates books and for whom?’ For the publisher certain uncomfortable questions about who is actually controlling the narrative and process or whether the book will be appreciated and affordable by the community that the style of telling or art is coming from, are largely left unspoken. On the other hand, a number of writers and illustrators have expressed a diffidence when portraying the unfamiliar contexts of other people’s lives and recognize that there is a dilemma which demands an honest and sensitive response.

Although there is an implicit understanding of the worth of fiction in many of the authors, a specific discussion on the power of story – whether in fiction or non-fiction – might have further enriched the readers’ awareness of the role of story in our lives. A number of authors are rather dismissive of folk tales or mythological stories suggesting that they are not relevant in our modern, industrialized world; but tales of enchantment and humour can sometimes offer a symbolic world that indirectly, but powerfully, touch on fear, grief, loss and death as well as hope. There are, of course, many folk stories that only re-enforce stereotypes about gender or ethnicity but there are also subversive, counter-cultural stories that break down bias and prejudice. In addition there are re-tellings of traditional stories which children can be exposed to or create themselves.

In the introduction the concept of ‘the moral story’, so popular with many teachers, is challenged but also the editors go on to alert the reader to a different kind of moralizing in a closed story that is ‘politically correct’. Such self-conscious constructions can become, as a friend so accurately put it, comparable to a flightless bird that has no wings to fly into the realms of the imagination or venture into the unknown. Tultul Biswas sums up the danger of producing “a half-baked or over-baked story’ when the author or publisher has a didactic agenda. The strength and weakness of ambivalent, fleshed out characters are often the critical element in making a story something we can relate to. Thejaswi elaborates on the tension between teaching morals explicitly as opposed to inviting ‘children in to consider values’ and thereby reach their own conclusions.

Critical appreciation of the story is presented in a balanced way so that the effort to ‘deconstruct ‘ and ‘unpack’ the text does not end up in draining the story of all energy. An overzealous instrumental approach to deconstructing the story or to use it to teach genres or how figurative language works might be compared to the rapacious farmer who thought he would get more wealth by opening up and killing the goose who laid golden eggs. He hoped that he would extract all the eggs in one fell swoop but alas, he only succeeded in destroying the source of the treasure. Sujata Noronha thoughtfully discusses how there are multiple ways to support a creative response to a book. She outlines certain ‘text-to-life responses ‘ which are inspiring for anyone attempting to make a bridge between the passive word on the page and the minds and hearts of the readers.

The bibliographies accompanying each chapter are a useful resource though they do include titles of books that the writer both appreciates and critiques. Guidelines for how to do certain activities, such as exploring the visuals of a picture book or responding to a story through writing and drawing are clearly differentiated by colour coding but are nestled within a text that clearly explains the reasoning behind the exercise. The thoughtful organization, attractive presentation and well-considered selection of images all contribute to making the book inviting, accessible and comprehensible to a wide range of readers.

Jane Sahi
October 2024.