In Defense of Escapism

It happened just last week:  I went down to the high school library and checked out a copy of Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater. 

"Are you kidding?" the librarian asked, "You have so much reading to do!"  (She knows the amount I read for grad school well, considering I complain about it to her 24/7.) 

"I know, I know.  I just need something to read to get my mind off all this reading."

It sounds ridiculous, but reading is my main form of escape from the trials of daily life, even when those trials are...reading.

In Young Adult Literature in the 21st Century, Cole presents a brilliant defense of many types of "lighter" or "low-brow" reading, including that of the romance novel. 

"If we exam[ine] literary female images in history, we can deepen our understanding of this longing and female attraction to contemporary romances, stories in which female sexuality isn't oppressed and demoralized and in which characters fall head over heals [sic] in love.  Consider the historical silencing of women's voices in literature and images of women in masculocentric literary works traditionally dominating English language arts classrooms...No wonder girls long for literature portraying women in happier circumstances and ending on a happy, yet predictable note..." (168-169). 

***Feminist disclaimer here:  obviously not all girls long for literature that is happy and predictable.  Some prefer hard-hitting, serious literature.  Some prefer both.  Some prefer neither.***

But it's true that many of my students who are young women gravitate toward romance or chick lit.  And it's also true that they often get teased for reading such, as the stereotype is that such books are poorly written, predictable, trashy, fluff, etc.  Some of them probably are.  But does it matter?

Many moons ago, on our classroom blog during my last year of undergrad, I wrote a post defending Twilight.  My argument was that, even though I personally thought Twilight was drivel, at least students were reading.  And, I proposed, mightn't students then move on to "deeper" literature?

Since then, I've read a study that suggests that low-brow literature actually isn't a gateway to more academic literature, but I can't for the life of me remember where I found it.  Anyone know what I'm talking about?

Regardless, I've changed my thinking a bit since writing my original Twilight post.  I think that, even if romance books aren't a gateway to other literature, it doesn't really matter.  I personally want to read a variety of books from many genres, but who am I to say that others shouldn't stick with what they enjoy?  A woman I babysit for has shelves upon shelves of Harlequins and similar.  In all her bookshelves, I've never seen a book that's not a romance.  But this woman is a reader; no one could deny that.  She still experiences different perspectives, expands her vocabulary, gains empathy...all that I value in reading.

In high school, this was the one we passed around

I love Cole's closing statement on romances:

"Whether we value romance or not, if we don't respect teens' [or adults'!] interest, we can't expect them to respect ours.  The romance genre, more than any other, gives women a voice and provides a statement about the historical subjugation and objectification of women" (182). 



Certainly, I can value a person's reading interests even if they are different than mine!  Cole continues her chapter and the next by defending humor, sports books, and historical fiction.  She just keeps hitting it out of the park in this textbook.  Now, if you need me, I'll be curled up on my couch escaping from my homework through teenage werewolves in love.