Thanks for this. It was excellently written. As a father of a five-year-old, it touches on a lot of things I’ve been thinking about. I buy a lot of children’s fairytale books from charity shops and what I’ve noticed is that the ones from the 80s and 90s are beautifully illustrated (I mean actually stunning) and the stories carry a fully enchanted charm that you can feel holds the weight of times past. But the ones from the 2000s started to change: their illustrations are childish (in the worst sense) they are overly practical, focusing on simple sentences to help reading, and ultimately, and sadly, something foundational was stripped out of them.
Hi C. Charles, thanks for your kind words – and what a brilliant observation about the charity shop test. The older books assumed children could meet something beautiful and strange and rise to it. The newer ones assume they can't, and strip everything back to function. The illustrations flatten, the sentences shorten, and the thing that made a child want to read – that sense of being invited into a world that felt older and richer than you – quietly disappears. Your five-year-old deserves the good ones. Keep raiding those shelves.
What a beautiful post - I see those same changes through my lifetime. But I also see more and more people coming back the simple things which somehow spark our imaginations - I’ve written about some of them - Bagpuss, Old Bear, the model village to name a few - I hope that in time, this might filter into the generations to come 🌿
Bagpuss and Old Bear, I read both pieces yesterday and they've been sitting with me ever since. There's something about those programmes that trusted children with slowness and quiet in a way that feels almost radical now. And the bear your great grandmother made, an object that has carried meaning across your family for three generations, says everything about why the simple things persist and have so much value.
I think that’s so true - we don’t trust children to want these things anymore, yet in my 25 years of working with children, mainly teenagers, when you truly listen to and engage with them, and facilitate a space in which they feel comfortable to be themselves, what they have to say is really very moving and deeply thought-provoking.
I recognise everything you're saying, though I'm afraid to say I learned it the hard way. I was far too combative with my own teenage children, too quick to push back, not nearly quick enough to listen. It took me longer than it should have to understand that what they needed wasn't an opponent but a space. I suspect many parents of my generation made the same mistake, convinced that challenge was the same thing as engagement.
Thanks for this. It was excellently written. As a father of a five-year-old, it touches on a lot of things I’ve been thinking about. I buy a lot of children’s fairytale books from charity shops and what I’ve noticed is that the ones from the 80s and 90s are beautifully illustrated (I mean actually stunning) and the stories carry a fully enchanted charm that you can feel holds the weight of times past. But the ones from the 2000s started to change: their illustrations are childish (in the worst sense) they are overly practical, focusing on simple sentences to help reading, and ultimately, and sadly, something foundational was stripped out of them.
Hi C. Charles, thanks for your kind words – and what a brilliant observation about the charity shop test. The older books assumed children could meet something beautiful and strange and rise to it. The newer ones assume they can't, and strip everything back to function. The illustrations flatten, the sentences shorten, and the thing that made a child want to read – that sense of being invited into a world that felt older and richer than you – quietly disappears. Your five-year-old deserves the good ones. Keep raiding those shelves.
What a beautiful post - I see those same changes through my lifetime. But I also see more and more people coming back the simple things which somehow spark our imaginations - I’ve written about some of them - Bagpuss, Old Bear, the model village to name a few - I hope that in time, this might filter into the generations to come 🌿
Bagpuss and Old Bear, I read both pieces yesterday and they've been sitting with me ever since. There's something about those programmes that trusted children with slowness and quiet in a way that feels almost radical now. And the bear your great grandmother made, an object that has carried meaning across your family for three generations, says everything about why the simple things persist and have so much value.
I think that’s so true - we don’t trust children to want these things anymore, yet in my 25 years of working with children, mainly teenagers, when you truly listen to and engage with them, and facilitate a space in which they feel comfortable to be themselves, what they have to say is really very moving and deeply thought-provoking.
I recognise everything you're saying, though I'm afraid to say I learned it the hard way. I was far too combative with my own teenage children, too quick to push back, not nearly quick enough to listen. It took me longer than it should have to understand that what they needed wasn't an opponent but a space. I suspect many parents of my generation made the same mistake, convinced that challenge was the same thing as engagement.