Reading Kidlit: In Defense of Animal Fiction, part I

Animal stories are everywhere. Many classic tales are animal stories, from Aesop’s Fables through Charlotte’s Web. Yet there’s an idea in kids’ publishing, out there on blogs, in classes and speeches, that animal fiction is no longer marketable, and has gone the way of the cute little bunnies in Watership Down.

Despite the naysaying, though, animal stories continue to show up in bookstores–Erin Hunter’s Seekers and Warriors, Kathy Appelt’s The Underneath, and Brian Jacques’ latest Insert-Redwall-Clone-Title-Here are jockeying for shelf space alongside more so-called middle grade popular fiction. So what is it about animal fiction that sets industry folk on edge?

The Beatrix Potter Complex

Many classic animal tales, particularly Victorian stories, follow what I think of as the Beatrix Potter/Peter Rabbit paradigm: they blend the cuteness of anthropomorphic animals (usually woodland creatures) with starker realities, as if the fact that Peter wears a smart robin’s egg waistcoat makes it more palatable for his father to have ended up in Mr. McGregor’s stew pot. In the original Redwall , the war-like tendencies of the sparrows (sparra), the snake, Asmodeus, eating characters, and the concepts each represent are balanced by the fuzzy-wuzziness of the mice, badgers, et. al and their Arthurian style honor code.

In some cases, anthropomorphic animals serve a particular purpose. Jane Yolen’s picture book series How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight/Go to the Dentist/Go to School/&c? (illustrated by Mark Teague) puts dinosaurs in place of children, giving parents and children a way to discuss everyday activities and rules and express frustration. They also play to a child’s desire to be like a favorite character–Let’s brush our teeth like Stegosaurus!–in a way a book about another “every kid” may not.

Other times, animal characters acting like people provide more fun, accessible illustrations and stories. This isn’t to say stories have to have animal characters to be fun and relatable, but animal characters can certainly add an appreciable layer to an already strong story. In Edel Rodriguez’ Sergio Saves The Game, Sergio, a penguin, dreams of becoming a soccer star, but is woefully inept on the field. Taking on the keeper’s role, he works through his frustrations and practices until he ultimately saves the day, keeping the big bad seagulls from scoring a critical goal. Another penguin story, Tacky the Penguin (Helen Lester, illustrated by Lynn Munsinger), follows the aptly named Hawaiian-shirted Tacky, who is disliked by the other penguins for his loud habits and garish dress sense. But when hunters come, it’s Tacky who scares them off, and the other, stuffier penguins come to recognize the value of being an individual, and appreciating each other quirks and all.

In a similar vein to Yolen’s Dinosaur series, the animal character helps set up a distance between the reader’s life and the protagonist’s life. This sort of distance can be very important in issues books–it allows kids and parents to read and discuss problems, like belonging and bullying, without the frustration, or setting up possible feelings of inadequacy and the like.

Sometimes, though, the Beatrix Potter Complex goes a little far–animals in people clothing, eating people food, and acting cutesy merely for the sake of cuteness can be a warning sign of other problems in a manuscript, picture book and middle grade alike. In a long lost piece by a kids’ editor, the described a particularly frightening anthropomorphic chicken manuscript she’d received, handwritten on hot pink paper. The story? A little fried chicken drumstick is lonely and only wants to be eaten and loved, eventually finding home and happiness at a local KFC. Peculiar, slightly morbid stories aside, though, there are other, more tangible–and fixable–problems in many animal stories, such as:

• Cuteness carrying the story
• Two dimensional characters/stereotypical characters–fat, hoarding pigs, empty-headed sheep etc.
• No real story, merely walking through a jungle/farm/zoo setting or characters comparing notes
• Characters with no flaws/relatability
• Characters are too adult
• Stories are preachy or moralizing

Animals With Human Traits? Or Humans With Animal Traits?

As anyone who’s ever picked up a mythology book knows, history is rife with stories of half-animal, half-human creatures, from centaurs and minotaurs through Anansi, the West African/Carribean spider-god. In these stories, the lines are often blurred between animal and human characteristics, and the characters are usually imperfect or have a not-quite-fatal flaw. Stories are rarely cute, yet rarely moral in a religious or morality play style way. Interestingly–perhaps because of the sense of “other” or “not-like-me”–animal/human characters are often deeper, and more fascinating, than a reader might expect. Unlike other animal related stories, these books are not relegated to the picture book and middle grade set; most are YA or adult lit.

Examples of Human/Animal/Mythical characters in fiction

• Anansi in Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys
• Coyote & Raven in Charles DeLint’s Newford series
• Mermaids in Kathryn Lasky’s Hannah: Daughters of the Sea

Do you write animal fiction? Do you read animal stories? Or do you find them irritating? Can you think of any good examples?