The Marvels, or What is Text?
Brian Selznick’s latest gives his visual/textual literary form yet another twist, as he tells one story first completely through image, then another completely in text, accomplishing a seemingly binary but actually complex interweaving of stories within stories. Though the package presents itself as simple and straightforward, the effect is multi-layered and powerful, and unlike any reading experience I’ve had.
We talked about Wonderstruck several years ago, and it poses a unique exercise for parsing the Newbery criteria, which say:
2. Each book is to be considered as a contribution to American literature. The committee is to make its decision primarily on the text. Other components of a book, such as illustrations, overall design of the book, etc., may be considered when they make the book less effective.
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As “text” is commonly defined as “written words,” my stance has traditionally been that we can therefore base a Newbery discussion on the written parts of an illustrated book or graphic novel, even when the graphics do the work of furthering plot, character, etc. Let the pictures do their part, and evaluate how well the words do their’s.
This has been a somewhat grumbling “play-by-the-rules” stance, as I don’t see why “literature” has to be defined as “text,” or “text” as “word.” We put this argument through its paces last year with El Deafo. There, graphic novelist Matt Phelan commented:
I think it comes down to how you define Text. For graphic novelists, the Text is the words AND pictures together. We use pictures like prose authors use adjectives. Instead of writing “very scary” bear, we draw it. Pictures are part of the toolbox for creating the story, as are the design elements such as panels, balloons, and effects like fading of the dialogue.
Is the Text just words and sentences, or is it the cumulative result? Is it how the book affects the reader? I’m honestly asking, because it seems to be the sticking point in the discussion. When discussing a graphic novel for Newbery, everyone always bends over backwards to separate the words from the drawings but that seems to me like considering a prose novel but being required to remove all adjectives and descriptions first.
He’s right, it has been a matter of bending over backwards. So I’d like to take El Deafo’s Honor as an excuse to stand up straight.
The Newbery Medal was initiated by publisher Frederic Melcher in part “To emphasize to the public that contributions to the literature for children deserve similar recognition to poetry, plays, or novels.” It was about acknowledging that children deserve as much attention to quality in their literature as adults, and gave honor to 18th century John Newbery, who was among the first to demonstrate that literature written specifically for children could be a commercial success.
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But because artists were being overlooked by the award, the Caldecott came along 15 years later. The Caldecott was named to honor Randolph Caldecott, the illustrator who was first recognized as created what we commonly think of as a “picture book”, where pictures actively communicate the story in partnership with the text.
Both of these awards honor quality, but in their names honor change in the field of children’s literature. Aren’t we seeing a comparable transformation today, in the inseparable marriage of word and picture to create narrative? Of images’ ability to tell a story as completely and richly as the written word?
While literal definitions of “text” point first to “written words,” they broaden to be understood as the “thing” that is “read” …sometimes the body of a work without front or back matter…sometimes a piece of music. Why can’t the entire main body of The Marvels, starting after the title page and concluding before the after-matter, be considered its “text”? Don’t we read the whole thing, and don’t we take every applicable element of narrative called out in the Newbery criteria from each page, whether that page is drawn or typed? Don’t we do the same with El Deafo, with March: Book 2, with any other graphic novel worth its salt?
At this point this conversation usually devolves into…”But if you expand the Newbery to allow pictures what happens to the Caldecott?” or “Why not create an award for Graphic Novels?” Let’s skip that today. The Newbery is for “the author of the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children published by an American publisher in the United States in English during the preceding year.” What does that mean to you? And how does The Marvels fit into that definition?
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About Nina Lindsay
Nina Lindsay is the Children's Services Coordinator at the Oakland Public Library, CA. She chaired the 2008 Newbery Committee, and served on the 2004 and 1998 committees. You can reach her at ninalindsay@gmail.com
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As we talk about “text”, I think the even bigger shift is talking about “author” (as in “the author of the most distinguished contribution…”)–in THE MARVELS (or EL DEAFO), Selznick (or Bell) is clearly the author of the whole work. And for a wordless book like THE ONLY CHILD, I’d call Guojing the “author”.
But K.G. Campbell, for example, got no recognition when FLORA & ULYSSES won the Newbery, because he’s not “the author.”
I don’t really have a conclusion here*, just a wondering–if/as we expand our definition of “text”, how do we decide who should be recognized as the creator/author of that text? If a Newbery committee recognized March: Book 2, whose name(s) should be called?
*I am a big Selznick fan and would love to see his work convince another committee to radically depart from precedent and remind us of the capaciousness of their criteria. I think the illustrated sections of THE MARVELS are significant contributions to children’s literature–but I also think (at least on 1.5 reads) that the prose story stands on its own better than the prose in THE INVENTION OF HUGO CABRET or WONDERSTRUCK.
There was a great book last year, BOW-WOW’S NIGHTMARE NEIGHBORS which had a great blurb from Chris Ware about this–
“A wordless, jazzy composition of lively cartoon rhythms and surprising pictorial puzzles. It isn’t just illustrated text, but genuine visual art–and is all the more literary for it. I loved it (and I bet kids will, too.)”
While I am open to redefining the word “text” to give it a broader meaning, I think the way it appears in the criteria–that is, in juxtaposition to the “other elements” clause–will always make such a redefinition problematic for some committee members.
“Each book is to be considered as a contribution to American literature. The committee is to make its decision primarily on the text. Other components of a book, such as illustrations, overall design of the book, etc., may be considered when they make the book less effective.”
Even so, I don’t think considering the written text alone is necessarily bending over backwards. I think it’s akin to viewing a movie and being able to judge its constituent parts. Is it really possible to judge the best in such a collaborative venture? Is this person really the best actor? Or did he just benefit from a great script? Or good directing? Or was he simply dressed up in wonderful costumes? Or did the production values enhance his performance? How is it really possible to separate all of those things? And yet we do it, and don’t think twice about it.
The “bending over backwards” part to me is when we put the criteria/definitions first, before considering something, rather than considering something, and then applying the criteria. For instance, with Kate’s question at the top about “author”… I think kids think of “author” as anyone who made a book. I think the spirit of the award is to honor the “creator” of the literature. So I don’t want us to even worry about that piece first, otherwise we never get outside the box.
I agree that it’s very possible to discuss the written word separate from the pictures. You and I have done a lot of it. But: why? (Any answer here *except* for “because that’s what the criteria say)
I was completely blown away by The Marvels, and agree with Kate that the words (if we want to consider “text” in a traditional sense) stand on their own. The story of the pictures that make up the first several hundred pages are described in the words later. While the pictures enhance the reading experience, I would argue that the words alone are the most significant contribution to children’s literature that I’ve read this year. The one piece I would be sad to miss if we were to consider only words would be the very end, where he again uses illustration to advance the story several years into the future (I won’t spoil the actual ending here). Though we could also argue, perhaps, that the words that appear in illustrations could be considered, which would supply most of the ending…
I guess what I’m saying is that even considering “text” as only words, I think a real argument can be made for The Marvels — distinguished in characters, setting, plot, theme. And if we’re talking “text” more broadly, as Nina suggests above, I think there’s no question. This is hands down my pick.
Hannah, I think that you’re right that a case can be made purely on the words in The Marvels. I admit I get caught up on what I find to be slightly stilted, or flat, turns of phrasing…but he nevertheless manages amazing story structure and narrative impact. Can you say a little more on why you find the writing here alone the best you’ve read this year?
Pushing me to actually justify my position, eh? All our copies are currently checked out so I’m not sure how articulate or accurate this will be, but a few thoughts from what I remember (may contain vague spoilers):
-I thought the combination of magic/mystery with stark reality was beautifully done. The question of what’s “real” or not doesn’t entirely matter in some ways (and in other ways is the whole point). In some books when something magical/mythical turns out not to be “true,” I’m disappointed as a reader. In this case my disappointment was entirely empathetic with Joseph, but I was deeply satisfied as a reader. If that makes sense. And the magical/mysterious feel is in no way destroyed by reality, but complemented by it.
-I was completely drawn in to the story, felt transported in a way I have not felt for some time. And I cried without feeling manipulated.
-I loved the way in which Selznick was able to portray quite complex and adult feelings and relationships in a way that was entirely appropriate (and hopefully effective?) for children. It’s always hard to separate myself from the “intended” audience of children, particularly in a book that drew me in so much. For example, as a queer reader, I felt in my core the authenticity of Albert’s sorrow over his “beloved.” But I think the complexity and authenticity of Selznick’s characters comes through all around.
That’s all for now. Maybe I’ll have more to say when I get my hands on the book again.
Hannah, “can we consider the words that appear in the final illustrations?” is a fascinating question. I hadn’t even thought of that!
I’ve been stewing on this some more, and here’s the one hiccup I have (with some vague spoilers): I think part of the reason that the reveal about the Marvels was powerful to me was because I had been primed by HUGO CABRET and WONDERSTRUCK to have certain expectations about the illustrated section and its function in the book. I think the story is still excellent by all the criteria without the images being physically present, but the impact might be lessened a bit.
I also wonder about whether the clarity of theme and development of characters/setting are more distinguished to me as an adult reader with background knowledge of the time period, the AIDS epidemic, etc. I came to this book with a lot of schema that helped me “see” things in the “you either see it or you don’t” sense.
Quick, someone razor out all the pictures and have an uninitiated 11-year-old read the textual story and report back! (I did initially read THE MARVELS as an e-galley; due to tech limitations, I could only see half a spread at a time. So the picture story was pretty hazy for me on first read, and I was still completely wrapped up in the textual story.)
Hannah & Kate, I think we can consider the words that are in the illustrations. They are written words! We discussed this a little last year with EL DEAFO.
And Hannah… I cried too, and don’t often. I wonder though, as Kate B. points out, how much of that is me bringing myself as an adult to the story. I do think you’ve nailed the impact when you say “The question of what’s “real” or not doesn’t entirely matter in some ways (and in other ways is the whole point).”
I have to agree with Jonathan that it’s a bit tortured to make a claim for the pictures being text when the criteria specifically discuss text and pictures as distinct components. But we are still left with the unexamined notion that “contribution to American literature for children” means text, excluding Where The Wild Things Are, for example, a distinguished contribution to American literature for children if ever there was one.
I am still waiting for THE MARVELS at my library, so I can only speak generally. I think there’s a fairly straightforward argument for considering a book like this that doesn’t force one to toss out large parts of the book in evaluating it. Obviously, one wouldn’t be allowed to say THE MARVELS deserves the Newbery because of the quality of its illustrations. But an author’s choice not to do something textual is clearly fair game in an evaluation. We all think things like, I’m glad the author didn’t do this, or I wish the author had done this. So it comes down to: does Selznick’s choice not to use words (clearly a kind of textual decision) make the book stronger? More distinguished? Most distinguished? How does that choice affect the structure, pacing, themes, the impact of the words he does use? Would things like plot and setting and character be even stronger had there been judiciously and artistically placed text? Or was this the strongest possible choice?
I’ve always been fascinated by the “other elements” clause. It’s okay to consider elements if they make the book less effective. So that means it’s not just focusing on the text, correct? And yet if the other elements make the book MORE effective, they cannot be considered.
Can anyone explain this to me?
Using Matt Phelan’s example Nina quoted above, perhaps the point is not to be distracted by the fact that Matt Phelan or Brian Selznick would draw a different “very scary bear” from each other and a much better one than most?
In evaluating a book, I think we could discuss an author’s choice to write “very scary bear” or “blood-chilling ursine” or “terrible claws and terrible teeth in his terrible jaws” or to use no words at all and use a picture. But it might not be fair, if an author went with the last option, to then say, “I liked that particular picture of the “very scary bear” so much, as art, irrespective of its function in the book, I think the book deserves a Newbery.” On the other hand, one could justifiably ding the same authorial choice if the picture in fact was less effective than using words, because, maybe, that picture of a bear wasn’t very scary at all.
I can see the sense of it. You don’t want to award a book that people are going to feel is ineffective, even if the reason for that is something other than the text. Nor do you want a Newbery book that makes everybody realize, when the 25th-anniversary edition with new illustrations comes out, that some significant part of the book’s merit was because of the quality (versus function) of its specific illustrations. Example: should one’s evaluation of THE MOUSE AND HIS CHILD depend on whether Lillian Hoban or David Small is illustrating? I’ve read statements like, “‘The Mouse and His Child” is deeply associated with its original illustrator. Lillian Hoban’s illustrations for the first edition are so tuned to the spirit of the text that it is difficult to imagine. . . any delineation save her own.” (NY Times review) or “A 2001 edition replaced Lillian Hoban’s illustrations, the ones I feature here, which should be a desecration” (Wuthering Expectations blog) (Though in the end most everybody seems to like Small’s work here.)
I see what you’re driving at, and it makes some sense as to where the thought comes from. I guess where that’s problematic to me is in conversations that say the Newbery is an award for the TEXT of a book. If you make this exception – other things can detract from the text – then you’re looking at other things beyond the text. Period. The end.
Based on the “text only” argument, a change in illustration wouldn’t change the fact that the book was a great contribution to children’s literature. If we say that it DOES impact that – that illustrations can make something a lesser contribution to children’s literature – then don’t we have to say the converse is true?
It seems to me that there are innumerable ways to tell a story — through oral telling, through a text that is only words, one that is both words and images, through performances, and so on. I suppose I see Newbery contenders to still be tangible books that are centered around textual words. Thus I don’t see such wordless books as BOW WOW or THE ONLY CHILD, glorious as they are, as contenders. And I know you don’t want us to consider criteria, Nina, but having been on the Committee the year of HUGO CABRET, when I was grappling with the same question you are posing about THE MARVELS, I have to say my mind can’t get past them. I just can’t (as was the case for me back in 2008) see how to convince enough members of a committee today that a book where 60% of the story is told via wordless images is something to consider. I just can’t see people getting their minds around it (any more than I can get my mind around it).
I do think if there are going to be two awards, a Newbery and a Caldecott, then there has to be an understanding that one is primarily text-based and the other primarilu image-based. But going from there I’d love to see a more open understanding for the Newbery as to how images can be supporting a text-based story or even being complete equal to it (as in Roger’s example of WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE). However, as things stand today we aren’t there yet and so, sadly, I don’t think THE MARVELS has a chance, especially to be recognized as a feat of storytelling through the equal use of words and images.
Monica, I hear you on the criteria… I think I’m trying to ask, where is the award really asking of us, rather than what the criteria literally tell us? I’m trying to back us up from the table, and not think yet about how we’d get consensus.
If we assume, as I think you’re asking, that the Newbery remains a primarily text-based award next to the Caldecott’s primarily image-based….why can’t we ask for “a more open understanding for the Newbery as to how images can be supporting a text-based story or even being complete equal to it”? I think that last year’s committee did so with EL DEAFO.
It is incorrect to think of Newbery/Caldecott as kind of a text/images binary. The Caldecott is given to the most distinguished picture book, and the criteria privilege the narrative elements of a book as much as and probably more so than the artistic ones.
You are measuring 60% in terms of the pages, but that’s only one way to measure the weight of the pictures. If we measured the weight of the pictures in terms of the time it takes to read them, then I think the pictures may only account for less than 5%.
Ooooh! I see a Newbery Committee based literary version of 12 Angry Men (but with more diversity, of course). “Yes, Hugo IS the best contribution to children’s literature this year, and I will not say otherwise!” 🙂
Perhaps a good metaphor for re-interpreting the set-in-stone criteria is the similarly set-in-stone Constitution with the whole judicial activism vs. judicial restraint. I definitely think the spirit of the award warrants a broader interpretation given the evolution of children’s books. I know there will always be people like Monica on the committee who will resist this kind of thinking, but if there are enough judicial activists on the committee–and if they can build consensus–than the naysayers on the committee become a moot point. The committee will not–and does not have to–come to agreement on the meaning of text. They may discuss it, and they may try to achieve a common understanding, but ultimately it comes down to what people put on the ballot. If 8 people think this is one of the top three books, then they really don’t have to justify their logic do they?
I think this must be my week to complain about being misinterpreted by others. Jonathan, “people like Monica” … one of the “naysayers”? Come on, I’ve been arguing for a wider, more encompassing take on the Newbery regarding art and design for years! Here, on my blog, wherever I can. I’m all for people like you and Nina being on the Committee and building consensus around a broader view of text. I’d be right there in your court 100%— THE MARVELS started out as #1 on my goodreads Newbery list with the comment “No chance because of the criteria, but I’m putting it here anyway. ALSC, change your criteria, please. ” I’ve moved it to #5 simply because I want the other books to get more notice:)
I have been also thinking about the question above as to how children without the same emotional baggage I bring to the story will react. I guess I like to think that they would still get the pathos communicated, the complicated pain, and, most of all, the yearning for family. Selznick has talked about the themes of love and family in it and I think they are there powerfully enough for readers without the knowledge or personal history of the 1990s would appreciate it. Now I need to go back and take another look at it — read it many months ago. (I’m rereading Gone Crazy in Alabama and am all the more impressed as I do —moved it to #1 on my list as a result.)
Monica, I don’t think I’ve misinterpreted your position at all as you’ve been fairly consistent over the years. You think the criteria need to be changed (which we both know will not happen); I think we can evaluate the text as it works as part of the whole. Still others are moving to a broader definition of text; I’m sympathetic to this view, but am dubious about its practicality within discussions.
While I like THE MARVELS very much–and giving it the widest possible benefit of the doubt in terms of the criteria–I still do not think I would spend a nomination on it much less a vote, so this discussion is academic to me. I’m not hearing many arguments that this is worthy of the Medal or an Honor. Is it?
Now if you want to talk about DROWNED CITY . . . there’s a book that I’m willing to fight for!
For my money,
I agree with Jonathan here. I like THE MARVELS but wouldn’t put it in my top 10 of 2015. Emotional impact isn’t one of the criteria so I’m not sure how this strength can really be used to prop up THE MARVELS as most distinguished.
Also agreeing that DROWNED CITY is amazing. My vote for most distinguished use of voice for sure.
I just want to give a shout out to Monica’s “Thoughts on Newbery” series at her blog “Educating Alice,” where last year she help us parse EL DEAFO: https://medinger.wordpress.com/2015/01/20/thoughts-on-newbery-el-deafo/
What, he asks naively, is the process for changing the Newbery criteria, then?
If you’re saying, Jonathan, that it needs to be changed but that “will not happen”… how would change ever come about if we just accept the status quo? I’m not saying a single committee member supporting a single book would change things, but are you really saying that this (the rules? The ALA power structure? Whatever?) is utterly incapable of change even as the medium it celebrates evolves? And if so… what message does THAT send to kids????
The criteria do get changed, and have been. It would go before the ALSC Board. There would likely be a task force, etc., lengthy complications, but there is absolutely a process. For instance, the Sibert Award criteria were changed in past years so that the award could go to the illustrator as well as to the author.
Thanks, Nina, for posting the link to my El Deafo post.
Jonathan, since I’m a very rule-bound person I would like to see the criteria changed rather than going for changing what we call text right now. And since the merging of the concept of narration, of storytelling, a merger of visual and textual is happening more and more in exciting ways I do hope that down the line all the awards will be able to properly recognize that. But I think the juries need clear criteria to do that. I love being on the Newbery Committee for many reasons, but one was because of the “process” we followed. I loved that it was so exact and so clear, unlike other awards I’d been involved with. The experience of working within those structures to reach consensus was amazing. And so I still am absolutely arguing for changing the criteria. I feel otherwise too much time gets spent arguing about things like what text is (or what is a book for an almost-15-year-old) rather than arguing about the worth of the books themselves.
Monica, I’m with you half-way. But what is “exact and clear” can be different for each individual, and I believe each committee therefore comes to a slightly different interpretation of the criteria. Sometimes it requires someone reimagining the rules in a bold way in order to force a shift. I agree the Newbery criteria make for a much better process than award committees I’ve been on with no criteria whatsoover. But there’s a double-edge to that.