Bilbo Baggins Gets a "Makeover"

I've never been one to really pay much attention to the sex of a character, unless it's super relevant to a storyline. A character's gender is a different story, of course, as that is typically apparent in the first few pages of meeting him or her.

However, there are some rare cases where a character is quite gender neutral, the only indication of his or her sex being the pronouns that are used. Sometimes it just doesn't matter if a character is male or female. A woman in Colorado proved this point when her daughter insisted that The Hobbit's Bilbo Baggins was a girl. 

A Mighty Girl has the scoop:

Michelle Nijhuis ran into an unexpected challenge when reading her 5-year-old daughter “The Hobbit”: “My five-year-old insists that Bilbo Baggins is a girl.” So what did she do? She had the simple realization that “it’s just a pronoun. My daughter wants Bilbo to be a girl, so a girl she will be.” 

Of course, it wasn’t quite as simple as that: “The first time she made this claim, I protested. Part of the fun of reading to your kids, after all, is in sharing the stories you loved as a child. And in the story I knew, Bilbo was a boy.” But when her daughter persisted, insisting that she “start reading the book the right way,” Nijhuis’ reservations quickly fell away: “The switch was easy. Bilbo, it turns out, makes a terrific heroine. She’s tough, resourceful, humble, funny, and uses her wits to make off with a spectacular piece of jewelry. Perhaps most importantly, she never makes an issue of her gender -- and neither does anyone else.” 

The gender disparity in children’s literature remains high -- according to a 2011 study of 6,000 children's books, only 31 percent had central female characters. And, as Nijhuis points out, “more insidiously, children’s books with girl protagonists sometimes celebrate their heroines to a fault. Isn’t it amazing that a girl did these things, they seem to say -- implying that these heroines are a freakish exception to their gender, not an inspiration for readers to follow.” 

Emboldened by the success of the swap with Bilbo, Nijhuis tried the same technique with some of her other children’s favorites: “In The Secret Garden, Dickon, the animal-loving adventurer who rescues Mistress Mary, became Mary’s best friend Diana. In the Finn Family Moomintroll books, the Snork Maiden and her brother the Snork traded genders... Friends tell me they pull similar tricks while reading to their sons and daughters: Women who farm become not ‘farmer’s wives’ but ‘farmers.’ Boy animal characters become girls, and vice versa.” 

Nijhuis encourages parents to test this trick out, so both daughters and sons “get to hear about a world as full of women as the real one -- and as free of stereotypes as we’d like ours to be. Kidlit may be catching up to our kids, but we don’t have to wait for it.” And she hopes that, “years from now, when [my daughter] has a chance to take her own unexpected journey, she’ll remember the story of Bilbo -- and be a little more inclined to say yes.” 

You can read more about Nijhuis’ experience gender-swapping classic literature on her blog at http://bit.ly/1dreLAD and check out her new article on updating classics for our times at http://bit.ly/1mYgg1c  

A Mighty Girl was founded to provide parents, educators, and young readers with a resource to help them find high-quality books starring smart, confident, and courageous Mighty Girls! If you mouse over “Books” on our main menu bar, you can open our book menu and quickly be able to find girl-empowering stories for children and teens that encourage almost any interest, or you can browse our entire book collection of over 2,000 titles athttp://www.amightygirl.com/books 

If you like the idea of giving classic stories a girl-empowering twist, you might want to start with our selection of over 150 fairy tales and folk tales, each featuring a Mighty Girl at the heart of the action, at http://www.amightygirl.com/books/fiction/fairy-tales-folktales 

See the original post HERE (FB post dated 7/21/14)

Second Time's the Charm for "A Wrinkle in Time"

I first read Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time in my fifth grade English class. And I hated it. No matter what I did, I couldn't get into it. I didn't care about the heroine Meg Murry. I was bored with the writing. I also hated pink, so the edition we read made my head hurt like whoa.

I don't know what my deal was. I devoured books at that time in my life. (Well, I've always devoured books, really.) But for some reason, A Wrinkle in Time was not my cup of tea.

About five years ago, though, I decided I needed to read it again. Give it another try with fresh eyes and an open mind. And, of course, I adored it the second time around. Maybe as a kid I had been subconsciously rebelling against the fact that I totally related to Meg, that I wasn't one of the "cool kids," and didn't feel like I fit into my reality. Maybe I just wasn't ready to start liking science fiction--I had been so wrapped up in contemporary novels about babysitters and high schoolers and the like. At the time, maybe I just couldn't see it.

But whatever the reason, my mind was changed. Which is quite handy given that it means when I saw an article on NYtimes.com about the novel, I was actually interested in reading it. (It's awesome, by the way, though lengthier than I usually post)

And you know what that means...I can now share it with you:

Bookish girls tend to mark phases of their lives by periods of intense literary character identification. Schoolgirls of the ’70s had their Deenie and Sally J. Freedman and Margaret moments, muddling through adolescence in the guise of one Judy Blume heroine or another. And for almost a century and a half, girls have fluctuated between seasons of Amy and Meg and Jo March, imagining themselves alternately with blond corkscrew curls, eldest sister wisdom or writerly ambitions.

But for those who came of age anytime during the past half-century, the most startling transformation occurred upon reading Madeleine L’Engle’s Newbery Medal-winning classic, “A Wrinkle in Time,” which celebrates its 50th anniversary this year. It was under L’Engle’s influence that we willed ourselves to be like Meg Murry, the awkward girl who suffered through flyaway hair, braces and glasses but who was also and to a much greater degree concerned with the extent of her own intelligence, the whereabouts of her missing scientist father, the looming threat of conformity and, ultimately, the fate of the universe.

Meg Murry, in short, was a departure from the typical “girls’ book” protagonist — as wonderful as many of those varied characters are. Meg was a heroine of science fiction.

In 1962, when “A Wrinkle in Time,” after 26 rejections, was acquired by John Farrar at Farrar, Straus & Giroux, science fiction by women and aimed at female readers was a rarity. The genre was thought to be down-market and not up to the standards of children’s literature — the stuff of pulp and comic books for errant schoolboys. Even today, girls and grown women are not generally fans. Half of 18- to 24-year-old men say that science fiction is their favorite type of book, compared with only one-fourth of young women, according to a 2010 study by the Codex Group, a consulting firm to the publishing industry. And while a sizable portion of men continue to read science fiction throughout their lives, women don’t. Thirty-two percent of adult male book buyers are science-fiction fans compared with only 12 percent of women. When Joanna Russ, one of the few successful female science-fiction writers, died last year, her obituary in The New York Times referred to her as a writer who helped “deliver science fiction into the hands of the most alien creatures the genre had yet seen — women.”

“A Wrinkle in Time,” the first in a trilogy that was later extended to include two more books, also defied the norm. Though a major crossover success with boys as well (with more than 10 million copies sold to date), the book has especially won over young girls. And it usually reaches them at a particularly pivotal moment of pre-adolescence when they are actively seeking to define themselves, their ambitions and place in the world.

“Part of what made it seem so liberating to so many girls is that it allowed those with an analytic mind and an interest in the pursuit of science to read about a subject that at the time was not perceived of as a suitable course of study for girls,” said Leonard Marcus, author of a biography of L’Engle, “Searching for Madeleine,” to be published this fall. “At the same time, at its core it’s about a girl’s love for her father, and that emotional level transcends the genre aspect of the book.”

[...]

Perhaps it is this softer element that distinguishes “Wrinkle” from its rocketry and light-saber brethren. But that doesn’t make the book any less weighty or challenging. In her introduction to a 2007 edition, Anna Quindlen, an enthusiast since childhood, confessed, “The truth is, I’m not a fan of science fiction, and my math and physics gene has always been weak.”

L’Engle’s book shies away from neither topic. On meeting Meg, we learn she can perform square root functions in her head — a mark, not of wallflower status, but of moral distinction. Still, Meg harbors doubts about her own intellectual abilities, and her exacting expectations rub off on the reader. If anything, the book enchants readers who might not entirely grasp its concepts with the delight in not knowing; the realization that even the most know-it-all kids do not, in fact, have all the answers and that certain questions are worth asking.

“I loved Mrs Who’s cryptic quotations, and the math that went right over my head and the fact that Charles Wallace had powers I was always struggling to understand,” said Rebecca Stead, whose Newbery Medal-winning novel, “When You Reach Me,” was in great part a homage to “A Wrinkle in Time.”

L’Engle, who was born in 1918 and grew up a child of privilege in New York City, struggled academically at her private school, though she later graduated cum laude from Smith. She first got the idea for “A Wrinkle in Time” after reading Einstein’s writings on relativity. “I used a lot of those principles to make a universe that was creative and yet believable,” she said in an interview with her publisher before her death in 2007.

Of course, science fiction is not only about science; it is also often deeply informed by politics, and can be a vehicle for commentary on the complex effects of progress in all its permutations — medical, political, technological. Russ, for example, a graduate of Yale, wrote books infused with feminist messages and digressions on philosophy. “A Wrinkle in Time” can be read as a warning against communism. L’Engle, an active liberal Episcopalian who spent many of her later years as a writer in residence at the Church of St. John the Divine in New York, tended to write allegorical works in which, as in the books of C. S. Lewis, good inevitably triumphs over evil, a message as likely to appeal to girls as it is to boys.

What is it then that makes girls averse to science fiction? Could it be the pronounced boyness of the covers — the same signal that deters girls from switching to Superman after their Betty and Veronica days have passed? Science-fiction books, whether technologically elaborate, intergalactic stories by the likes of Arthur C. Clarke and Hal Clement or the so-called “soft” science fiction of Ray Bradbury and Philip K. Dick, often wear dark washes of black and navy blue with 3-D fonts and brutal images of fire and destruction.

Yet there isn’t anything inherently unfeminine about science fiction. Some might say the dystopic fantasy, apocalyptic tales and paranormal romance so popular with today’s teenage girls are actually couched “girl-friendly” variants of science fiction. Perhaps. But why should science fiction proper be any less welcoming to girls? It may be simplistic to suggest that reading science fiction will lead women to pursue careers in chemistry and quantum physics and information technology. But then, how many female authors say they were inspired to become writers because of Jo from “Little Women”?

Surely we don’t mean to imply that science fiction, or science, is really just for boys. It is, after all, Meg’s microbiologist mother, Katherine Murry, rather than her rescued father, who later in the series wins the Nobel Prize.

Read the entire article HERE

Thanksgivings with Morrie: What Character Would You Dine With?

With Thanksgiving Eve upon us, if you will, and my energy continuing to wane from a stressful week, I thought we'd take a hint from the Huffington Post today and talk about our favorite literary characters and who you'd invite over to your Thanksgiving table.

As a child, I hated Thanksgiving, but if you'd asked me back then what character from a book I'd suffer through the turkey and stuffing with, I'm sure I would've spouted the name of ever babysitter from The Babysitter's Club, all the Sweet Valley High folk, Harold (and the Purple Crayon, of course), Ramona and Beezus (what a crazy meal that would be), and the list would go on and on.

Now that I'm grown, the tables have turned: I adore Thanksgiving food and am struggling to figure out which character I'd invite to dine. Part of me feels it'd want it to be someone from the Classics, to fulfill that whole Thanksgiving-feeling of history and culture--like Laurie from Little Women or Jean Valjean from Les Miserables. But then I think how fun it would be to chat with someone more modern, someone youthful who crosses lines and surprises people with his/her strength of character--like Lyra from The Golden Compass or Katniss from The Hunger Games.

What about you? What character would you share your Thanksgiving with if you could??

Classic Characters and Their Literary Style

I'm sorry for being a bit MIA this week, my fellow book lovers. I've been up to my ears in work, including moderating and troubleshooting the new Pocket After Dark website. It may be Wednesday, but it sure feels like, you know, September.

Anyway, in an attempt to make it up to you, allow me to share today's Boldtype post on literary fashion, featuring "Literature's Top-10 Best-Dressed Characters" EVER:

If you’re the kind of person who’s into transformational mid-life journeys told with self-deprecating charisma, the you’re probably pretty psyched about the forthcoming film version of Eat Pray Love. And you may also have some of the film’s myriad product tie-ins on your shopping list: The adaptation of Elizabeth Gilbert’s wildly popular memoir has been franchised into everything from candles to tea to perfume. Designer Sue Wong has even launched a line of Eat Pray Love-branded clothing. But since her costume-y designs are leaving us a bit cold, we couldn’t help but thinking about which of our favorite literary characters might provide better sartorial inspiration. After the jump, peruse our list of literature’s best-dressed figures and leave your own suggestions in the comments.

Lily Bart, The House of Mirth
This aging society girl was always a vision in beautiful dresses and jewels. But because she wasn’t as wealthy as her friends, she was always running up dress-maker debt.

Edith Wharton writes: “The remaining dresses, though they had lost their freshness, still kept the long unerring lines, the sweep and amplitude of the great artist’s stroke, and as she spread them out on the bed the scenes in which they had been worn rose vividly before her. An association lurked in every fold: each fall of lace and gleam of embroidery was like a letter in the record of her past.”

Dorian Gray, The Picture of Dorian Gray
This fin-de-siècle dandy hides a dark secret: While his face stays young and beautiful, a hidden portrait shows his true, festering and debauched, soul.

Oscar Wilde writes: “That evening, at eight-thirty, exquisitely dressed, and wearing a large button-hole of Parma violets, Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady Narborough’s drawing-room by bowing servants.”

Holly Golightly, Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Like Lily Bart decades earlier, Holly Golightly is a New York socialite who seemed to appear out of nowhere, shrouded in glamorous mythology.

Truman Capote writes: “She was still on the stairs, now she reached the landing, and the ragbag colors of her boy’s hair, tawny streaks, strands of albino blond and yellowcaught the hall light. It was a warm evening, nearly summer, and she wore a slim, cool black dress, black sandals, a pearl choker. For all her chic thinness, she had an almost breakfast-cereal air of health, a soap and lemon cleanness, a rough pink darkening in the cheeks. Her mouth was large, her nose upturned. A pair of dark glasses blotted out her eyes. It was a face beyond childhood, yet this side of belonging to a woman. I thought her anywhere between sixteen and thirty; as it turned out, she was shy two months of her nineteenth birthday.”

See the remaining seven of Boldtype's top-10 HERE
including Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind, Lady Bret Ashley from The Sun Also Rises, and many
more!

I'm torn between Emma Bovary and Holly Golightly as my fave...

Who do YOU think is the best dressed of the bunch??

P.S. I promise to write a more legitimate post very soon! I have a review of The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank to write! Keep a lookout!