YA books on death: is young adult fiction becoming too dark?
Version 0 of 1. When the Wall Street Journal ran an article arguing that young adult fiction was becoming too dark and "constantly reflecting back hideously distorted portrayals of what life is", YA author Maureen Johnson started the hashtag #YAsaves, to create a record of books and authors young adult readers felt had made a difference to their lives. Within hours she had over 15,000 answers and the hashtag remains in use, now synonymous with books recommended for dealing with tough issues. As young adult author Jay Asher told the Guardian, "When death is presented in teen novels, it's often as a way to discuss issues and questions many people have at that age." Teenager readers aren't any more morbid than the average adult reader; as sales charts show, crime novels are consistently popular with adults (and those tend to get pretty murdery on occasion). But the sheer myriad of creative ways that death is dealt with in YA books is frankly brilliant: romantic fumblings with undead spooks, monsters that physically embody our fears of mortality, teenagers living through their deaths again and again. Books like The Fault in Our Stars by John Green and Before I Die by Jenny Downham explore the issues and emotions surrounding terminal illness from the eyes of the sick. What Green and Downham get so right is the inherent humanity of the very ill; in the face of everything, their teenage protagonists interact, prioritise and live like the average young adult. The deservingly-loved A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness and Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper both explore the conflict of loving someone while wanting them to die. In the post-Twilight era, the link between death and eternal love has become an alluring reinvention of the classic, gothic romance. In some cases, the colder and deader the beau, the better: before Isaac Marion's Warm Bodies, who would have ever thought a zombie could be a romantic lead? Angels, in books such as Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick, Fallen by Lauren Kate and Halo by Alexandra Adornetto, are the divine, immortal alternative to Meyer's brooding bloodsuckers. YA books that feature Death as a character, such as The Book Thief by Markus Zusak and Tinder by Sally Gardner, are both comforting and macabre in the way they demystify dying by personifying Death. In other YA books, death is demystified by being inevitable in the plot: the protagonist is dead before the first act ends. For example, the famous The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold is told by a girl observing her family from the afterlife. Similarly, Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver offers a Groundhog Day-esque reflection on life as a girl relives her death on repeat. If I Stay by Gayle Foreman is similarly contemplative, told by Mia who is hovering between life and death after a car crash that killed the rest of her family. In 13 Reasons Why, author Jay Asher makes teen suicide a mystery, with 13 people mulling over tapes sent to them by dead schoolgirl Hannah Baker detailing her reasons for killing herself. In his book Suicide Notes, Michael Thomas Ford uses humour to explore the emotions exposed after a failed suicide attempt. High school massacres, while remaining a rather US-centric phenomena, is explored in worthwhile books such as Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult and DBC Pierre's black comedy Vernon God Little, which may be the funniest book about a kid on death row you'll ever read. Any concerns parents have about their children reading books about death are not silly: it comes from a nice place and they like protecting you from stuff. But sometimes they need reminding that reading about death does not make you want to die; likewise, reading about suicide does not condone suicide. We can't put an age on the ability to differentiate between fiction and reality or being better at dealing with emotions: that oversimplifies people. Our fears, triggers and troubles are all so entirely individual that to assume that the whole YA readership is unable to cope healthily with the concept of death is unsubstantiated. Worse, its a common generalisation made by people who would likely huff, "Oh but when I was that age, I would have been fine reading that." Despite what you may hear, young adults are adults too. Sometimes they die, sometimes they know people who die. To deny YA readers the chance of finding comfort in literature is only a comfort for those denying them, out of some misguided pomp of moral authority. Whether they are grieving or curious about death (or life), young adults can be reassured by the power of knowing that their innermost feelings can be mapped on to others; that despite whatever feelings they are feeling, it is not unimaginable that someone else (fictional or real) has felt it too. What a ghastly comfort for one to have. |