PSU Magazine Winter 1988

"We' re seeing a renaissance in children's books," claimed Peggy Sharp, assistant professor of education at PSU and an active promote r of reading. Predict– ing the appearance of 4,000 new juvenile titles in the coming year, Sharp said that children's publishing " has become big ~usiness in a hurry." And to the delight of professionals like Sharp, the boom has been accompanied by a noticeable increase in quality. "The rising tide lifted all the boats," noted Eric Kimmel , another PSU professor of education and an author of children's stories and books. Kimmel is currently riding that tide, with two new books published this fall (Anansi and !he Moss- Covered Rock and The Chanukkah Tree) and eleven more accepted for publication in the next few years. "We' re seeing some really quality material and really outstanding writers and illustrators," Kimmel said. Rich paper stock, lavish full - color illustrations, and sophisticated subject matter make today's books more attractive than ever to the peo– ple who are driving the industry: parents. Calling this the second boom in children's literatu re, Kimmel said the first boom, in the '60s, was fueled by the infu– sion of federa l funds into schools and libraries fo r the acquisition of books. Publishers geared up to meet the new de– mand , which tapered off as funds dried up in the '70s. The boom of the late '80s, however, marks a new marketing strategy by pub– lishers. While as recently as ten years ago 80 percent of published children's books were sold to teachers and librarians, ac– cording to Sharp, now 80 percent are go– ing to bookstores. "The parents are the buyers," she said . Kimmel describes these parents as peo– ple "who value education, have con– siderable education themselves, and have the income to back up their beliefs. I don't want to use the yuppie word...but why not?" He added, "These parents have high ambitions fo r their children and feel that being good readers and loving books is going to contribute to their success." The result has been beautiful books with hefty price tags. Fifteen dollars is a Professor Eric Kimmel autographs one of his books at a Portland bookstore. PSU 6 common price for an illustrated child ren's book, causing many adu lts to wonder who is buying the books, and for whom. "There is a whole new aud ience of adults who collect chi ld ren's books," explained Sharp, "and many books are priced for collectors." Thus, the advent and growth of the paperback children's book industry. "A lot of books are coming into paper very fast ," said Kimmel, "and they 're selling directly to children." S o, surrounded by books that the publishers have designed to dazzle and without the librarian as a regular filter fo r the 50,000 children's books now in print, how does the con– sumer know what a good children's book is? Kimmel and Sharp, who both teach courses in chi ldren's literature at Portland State, agree that ch ildren's books should be evaluated by the same standards as adult 1 iterature. "The plot has to make sense, the language must be excellent, and the characters should be convincing," said Kimmel. And both professors stress the importance of honesty and realism . "The best of children's literature was never a funny little fairy land inhabited by roly-poly bears and fuzzy ducks," said Kimmel in the full , friendly voice that makes him a popular storyteller. "The best children's books have always dealt with the real concerns of living in society as ex– perienced by the child ." This principle may have been taken a bit too far in the '70s, when the problem or issue book had its heyday. Filling a void created by long-stand ing taboos, children's books began to deal head-on with divorce, sex , illness, racism and other social problems children might encounter. Sometimes these books lacked subtlety and were insulting to readers, who were not given the chance to draw their own con– clusions, feels Sharp. Kimmel believes the genre reached its pinnacle with Beverly Cleary's Dear M1: Henshaw, wh ich lets readers experience vicariously the turmoil and emotional growth of a boy coping with his parents' break-up. (Cynthia D. S1owell, former PSU Magazine editor, is a Portland free-lan ce wriler and photographer.)