An Ode to Harlequin and Horror
The only honest-to-goodness hissy fit I ever threw was when I was nine years old, in the library. I’d just put my stack of books on the checkout counter and waited happily for my orgy of reading to begin.
The old lady librarian, with a powdered cleavage and gooey red lipstick, frowned and peered over the top of her glasses at Pet Semetary, one of the books I’d chosen.
She shook her head. “Only adults can check out this book.”
“I have an adult card.” I proudly flashed the blue rectangle at her.
“I’ll need a permission note from your mother. You’re too young to read this.”
”Give me my book.” My voice had a tone that even scared me a little.
She started to put Pet Semetary on the cart behind her, to be reshelved.
I slammed my fists on the counter and screeched: “Give it to me! It’s my book!”
She stared at me, mouth agape, red lipstick creeping into the tiny lines around her mouth, spreading out like cracks in glass.
I got the book. And it was good, too.
This could develop into a diatribe on censorship, but what I’m concerned with here is, What books are we ‘supposed’ to be reading? And who decides that?
One of my favorite scenes on the television show “Friends,” is when Rachel convinces Joey to read Little Women, and he loves it; he’s even heartbroken when Beth dies. Nobody expects Joey to be the type of guy to enjoy Little Women, which just goes to show you, all books are for everyone.
In my eleventh grade homeroom, there was this blond guy named Brian, who would spend the fifteen minutes hunched over at his desk, fervently reading a book he clutched so tightly, his knuckles turned white. It was a romance book. Not a romance like, say, Wuthering Heights, which he could’ve blamed his English teacher for making him read, but a bodice ripper. In fact, there was a woman in a ripped bodice on the cover, with a brightly-colored Fabio looming over her.
The books kept rotating: he’d finish one, start another. Every day in homeroom (and twice that I saw in the lunchroom) there he’d be, hunched over somebody’s “heaving white breasts” or “stirring manhood.”
His name was Brian, but I always thought of him as Harlequin Boy. He took a lot of crap for what he read. But he’d just ignore the insults and burrow deeper into his book.
So what is acceptable? Can’t a guy read a romance book, a child read a horror novel, a girl read Autoextremist magazine?
Were there any books someone tried to keep you from reading? Did you read them anyway?
This one’s for you, Harlequin Boy. I wish I’d known then how cool you really were.
A lesson for us all.
November 14th, 2005 at 5:35 pm
When I was in high school, I took Popular Fiction as an English class. It was a college prep level class, and the students were allowed to design their own curriculum, choosing a variety of books to read that matched their own interestes and preferences.
Imagine my surprise when I was told that I would have to have a permission slip from home to read a book that had been on othe NY Times Best Selling Paperback list for quite some time. (I figured that it was, by virtue of being on the list, the ultimate in Popular Fiction.)
I told my mom about what was required and she wrote a blanket permission slip that said that I was allowed to read anything and everything that I might choose. Thanks mom for continuing to foster my love of books AND my disdain for censorship.
By the way, the book? The Godfather by Mario Puzo.
November 14th, 2005 at 8:05 pm
Hi Rhys,
Another topic I find myself thinking on often. I read several inappropriate books, for my age, when I was younger, too. I suppose it’s what I don’t really like about putting books into genres. It’s too limiting. It makes people avoid otherwise really good books.
For me, any guideline for who should read what book should just be a guide and not a rule. It’s up to parents what to allow their kids to read or not read. Outside of that kids will read what they want if they really love reading. I was never restricted, but never read anything that I felt wasn’t right for me to read.
I’ve done the same with my kids, but do get a bit more involved than my parents did. I often read the books they’re reading, too, so we can talk about issues together.
Now they’re a lot older I don’t worry so much about that, but this was when they were smaller. Anyway, I’ve raved enough. Great topic for discussion. ;-)
November 14th, 2005 at 8:42 pm
Thank you Heather! These compliments mean a lot coming from a talented writer like yourself. I love your Journal Writing Blog, btw.
I think your guideline is perfect: let the reader decide, but take interest in it. You sound like an awesome mom. I love that you talk with your kids about books. Lucky kids! :)
You’re right about the genre concern, too.
November 14th, 2005 at 8:46 pm
Hi Fly Girl, thanks for commenting!! (I peeked at your blog…what a great topic.)
The Godfather, censored? Man, oh, man. I’m glad you didn’t take that crap. And your mom sounds like she rocks. :)
November 15th, 2005 at 7:23 am
Oh my God.
I have that book - LOL
November 15th, 2005 at 8:39 am
LOL, my mom has that book!
I love that scene in Friends too. I think it was hilarious when he put Little Women in the freezer cause it was too scary.
I’m trying to think if I’ve ever been forbidden to read anything, but I don’t think I have. I’ve never been one to do what was expected of me, so if I was ever reading something I wasn’t ’supposed to’ by society’s standards, I probably didn’t even notice. And I was allowed to read and watch anything I wanted as a kid (and I think I turned out okay!)
*hurries off to hide some more bodies in the basement*
November 15th, 2005 at 10:44 am
The only time I ever got into trouble over a book was when I brought a massive Hitler biography for reading in grade six. We had to go up and sit with the teacher at his desk and read him a page of the book, just for practice, and he took one look at the title and sent me back to my desk with explicit instructions to find something more suitable for the following week.
What? What I say? Not like I was planning a military coup or anything, I just liked World War II history.
*joins Ingrid in the basement*
November 15th, 2005 at 10:55 am
Marti–I know! I stole it from your house. :) Don’t keep us in suspense: do the scoundrel and the captive fall in love? :)
November 15th, 2005 at 10:56 am
Ingrid–wow, this is a popular book! I can DEFINITELY say you turned out great! :)
November 15th, 2005 at 10:57 am
Don’t sell yourself short, Erin–you could totally pull off a military coup. That’s a great story! :)
Can I come play in the basement too?