Feminist Books for Children
Tricia Lowther looks at feminist undertones in two children's books...
Not That Clever
Whenever the
question of feminist books for little girls is raised, Babette Cole's 'Princess Smartypants', (Picture Puffin), is one that gets recommended.
Originally published in 1986, it's seen as an alternative to old fashioned
fairy tales in which the inevitable ending is the happy ever after marriage of
princess and prince.
The heroine of
the title lives happily with her motley collection of animals, but lots of
princes want to marry her. To foil them, she sets her suitors tasks which none
of them can accomplish - until the arrival of smarmy Prince Swashbuckle, but
Smartypants knows how to deal with him.
As a challenge to
the assumption that a princess does little more than look pretty, Smartypants
holds her own - she rides a motorbike, can defeat anyone in a roller disco
marathon, and is fiercely protective of her independence. The cartoon
illustrations add humour, the funniest moment being a kiss that turns a prince
into a giant toad, but ultimately Smartypants is little more than a raspberry
blow at the pink princess stereotype.
While the main
character may break traditional rules, Smartypants is still a part of the
princess genre it ridicules, so the idea of princesshood, something many
feminist Mums want to steer their children away from, remains desirable. The
heroine is described as pretty and rich, the reasons so many princes want her
to be their wife. The princes are figures of fun and Smartypants doesn't behave
well towards them, she also doesn't deliver on her promise to marry the prince
who completes all the tasks. The send up of romantic heroes doesn't leave young
readers with anything positive to take from the male characters, who are all
either weak, foolish or slimy. While older readers may see the joke, children
are unlikely understand the context. By making her demean the male characters
Cole also demeans the main character.
Other problems
include the strange use of 'Ms'; in the early pages we are told Smartypants
doesn't want to get married, she enjoys being a Ms. This makes little sense as
married women also use Ms as a title. Then there's Smartypants mother, the
Queen. A keen shopper, it is she who insists that Smartypants finds a husband
in the first place. One stereotype may be challenged, but others are
compounded.
On the plus side
it's a lively light hearted story that pokes fun at the princess cliché and
it's certainly preferable to a book full of Disney princesses. For little girls
who are drowning in pink princess culture Princess Smartypants while not
princess-free is at least Princess Different. Although the main character is an
independent spirit who wears motorbike leathers and likes big spiders, she
lacks integrity and the storyline is weak.
Smartypants is a
reactive tale that rebuts a genre, but isn't enough to satisfy as a stand alone
story. It may stand out on the shelf as a feminist book for a child, but on
closer inspection it leaves a lot to be desired. It's a sad indictment on the
lack of strong female characters in children's books that twenty five years
after it's original publication Princess Smartypants is still praised as a
challenge to the prevailing literature.
And Mum said to me, "Remember this time. It's the
way life should be."
Pleased to have
found a children's illustrator who gives her little girls practical clothes,
rather than the ubiquitous pink dress, I was in search of more books with
Jennifer Eachus' impressive watercolour illustrations for my daughter, when I
discovered 'The Big Big Sea,'
(Walker Books). This picture book for young children in which a little
girl and her mother visit the sea on a moonlit night was originally published
in 1994 and re-issued recently. It's a deceptively simple book, considered a
classic by many.
Because of the
little girl on the cover I imagine many people would think of it as a book for
girls, but just as girls are commonly expected to read books with male leads,
so this book is fine for either gender. It's such a simple story that it can be
read to very young children, who after all, care not about the gender of
characters in books until it is impressed upon them by others that certain
books are for girls or boys.
The story begins
with the words: "Mum said, ‘Let’s go!’ So we went …", the
accompanying picture is an almost silhouette of a woman waiting by her daughter
as she puts her sandals on. The spontaneous mood develops throughout the pages
into a celebration of nature, freedom and the love between a mother and daughter.
The pair cross
over a field and under a fence then pause to take in their surroundings before
they run to the sea and splash in the water. A double page spread shows the
little girl looking up in awe at the moon, and is so well done that the reader
must surely pause and appreciate a moment in time. We may not actually be at
the sea ourselves, but this is as close as a book can get to taking us there.
On the following pages the girl's face is sheer exhilaration as she jumps and
splashes about. Later, she gets cold and tired and is carried back to eat warm
buttered toast and fall asleep on Mum's knee.
The rhythm and
repetition in both words and images reflect the rhythms of life and nature. The
symbolism of moon and water add to the powerful feminine atmosphere and help to
convey a profound experience in a moving, almost mystical tale. The
characters are not named which adds to the sense of freedom, they could be any
two people at any time in any place. The fact that the characters are female may
seem incidental to some, but they make powerful role models. I wonder how many
women would actually feel safe and confident enough to behave like the mother
in the book. Sadly, I fear I would be looking over my shoulder for the bogeyman
were I to take my daughter down to an empty beach at night, but here mother and
daughter are strong liberated female characters in the most natural sense, they
are free to be themselves.
Some may struggle
to see this book as a feminist work and I doubt that experienced children's
author Martin Waddell set out with such intent, (although I find it intriguing
that he often uses the female pseudonym Catherine Sefton), but against the
backdrop of a culture obsessed with looks and body image even for little girls,
a book in which a little girl runs around a beach at night feels revolutionary.
Together Waddell and Eachus have created a beautiful book which conveys an
energy of pure joy.
Tricia
Lowther is from Liverpool and lives in Durham. An avid reader and feminist
mother, she spends her spare time writing about all sorts of everything for
various websites and can be followed @TrishLowt on twitter.
