After “queerifying” various children’s books, our class came to a unanimous consensus regarding the depiction of gender within them. As nearly everyone observed, the illustrated characters within these books are given aesthetic features “typical” of either males or females. The book I queerified, Little Miss Christmas, was no exception. For example, Little Miss Christmas is given long hair, pigtails, and heeled shoes to indicate her femininity. On the other hand, most of the male characters lack any defining physical features at all. Mr. Christmas is the same shape as Little Miss Christmas, but lacks her feminine features, indicating that he is male. All of the female characters within the book had “Little Miss” preceding their names while all the male characters simply had “Mr.” preceding theirs. The book’s creators evidently decided that the female characters should be smaller, since a typical perception of gender is that women are smaller than men. This is a perception that can easily be shattered if one simply observes that in real life, people come in different sizes. The discrepancies between the way gender is depicted within children’s books and the possibility illuminated by some theorists (e.g. Butler) that suggest gender does not even really exist creates a question: If these books are conditioning children to perceive gender according to a superficially gendered discourse, should this be a concern?
In “The Rhetoric of Sex / The Discourse of Desire,” Samuel R. Delany relates sitting down to read the children’s book, Corduroy, to his young daughter. He tries to change Corduroy’s gender from male to female as he reads, but his daughter catches the error and argues that Corduroy is male due to his depiction within the book (“Because he’s got pants on!”). Despite wearing the same overalls as the bear, she understands that the character’s gender is determined due to the discourse of children’s books. He is male because he wears pants, and because most protagonists in children’s books are male. The fact that Delaney’s daughter wears pants too isn’t incongruent because she does so within a different discourse, her life. “I was wrong. Corduroy was a boy. No matter how unfair or how pernicious it was or might prove, the discourse of children’s books made him a boy” (7). Delaney suggests that the predetermined nature of some discourse creates its own truth, which is why even his young daughter understands that even though she and Corduroy both wear pants, no contradiction exists because the pants exist within different discourses.
What if not all children recognize this however? Do some expect the gender determinants within children’s books to hold true in reality? I think that this is a strong possibility, but I am not sure that it should be a concern. Even if children do begin expecting males and females in reality to look and act like their illustrated counterparts, it won’t necessarily lead to a closed-minded or confused post-childhood. I was read Corduroy as a child by my parents, and I don’t use overalls as a visual gender determinant today. Though children’s books do present a gendered world usually only minimally similar to reality, I don’t think the inaccuracy will lead to lasting harm. Delaney is correct in recognizing that a separate discourse exists within children’s books that depicts gender in superficial, stylized ways. Because these discourses are inherently separate, I think that most children will eventually realize that not all women wear dresses, and that men sometimes do. Other things such as family, friends, culture, religion, and experience will have more of a hand in determining whether that child will be closed minded about it.
Ziev -
ReplyDeleteGreat post. I had Mr. Strong for my queer book, and it's interesting that the Mr. characters are all so much simpler than their Little Miss counterparts. All it took was for me to draw on a few eyelashes, hair, and a dress for Mr. Strong to become Ms. Strong.
In terms of the "Little Miss" label, I think it there could also be a power move there by the author. Perhaps not intentionally, but I do think that most girls in popular children's literature are seen as diminutive. Many (though not all) are helpless, waif-like pretty girls who require a dashing young lad to save their day. While I agree that there are many more important factors in determining how well a child's perception is molded, I do think that the pervasiveness of skewed depictions of femininity can be a problem, if not monitored and mitigated.
- terese
Ziev
ReplyDeleteI, again, like your analysis of the random sorts of traits that are thrown onto the shapes that are supposed to be people in this bizarre series. Like we were saying in class though, why are people who are associated only as their job (Santa, the Farmer, the Bus Driver) people, and the main characters (Mr.s and Little Miss's) all those odd shapes? We were saying that maybe it is so that the traits associated with them can be seen to kids as a model, but personally I think that is really stupid because making abstractions should make it harder for kids to associate with it. No young child looks at a walking red cube with horrifying solid black eyes and is like, "Hey, that's just like me!"
Hey Ziev, sorry for the late post, but I had to talk about this one. I agree that children don't necessarily pick up gendered performatives or take their social cues from children's books - as a child, I flat-out refused to wear dresses, even though virtually all children's books (particularly ones with animals) signify "female" through clothing (bows, dresses, and the like).
ReplyDeleteThat said, could we be missing an opportunity here? I'm not sure that gender in children's books is as harmful as it could be, but I think that as children we do draw from what we read/have been read - in particular, I'm thinking of just how many children's books reflect our fear/anxiety of being left out or of not fitting in. (This always makes me think of the Rainbow Fish. I hate that book. Every time someone read it to me as a child, my mother would always follow it up with, it's okay to be special. I am not making this up.)
So if our fear of not fitting into society comes out in children's books, surely we pick up on some of this as children. I think more "queer" children's books, or at least a broader variety of nontraditional children's books, could be a positive thing. I'm not saying we'd have to teach children everything at that age, and anyone who wrote such books would have to keep in mind that, ultimately, the goal is to entertain children, not instill gendered values one way or another. (The Princess Boy is a good example of that - I can't imagine that being an interesting read for a child, as it's more pointed towards adults. That's just not effective.)
And I'm not saying we should be creating entire children's books solely about gender issues, cross-dressing, etc., but it could be worked in, I think, in ways that would have positive results.
But again, just because animal characters wear dresses to distinguish gender doesn't mean children assume they're meant to wear dresses - these sorts of books do the same thing with glasses to indicate intelligence, and I can't remember ever thinking as a child that I wasn't smart because I didn't wear glasses. But then again, we do commonly associate glasses with intelligence, no? I guess I'm not sure how much weight to give this kind of thing as a rhetorical device, but I do feel it'd be dangerous not to address them. Maybe that's a parent's job?
Nice work queering your book, by the way - it's interesting that Little Miss Christmas nags the male characters, and what happens when the woman leaves men in charge of more domestic tasks.