What Even Is Children's Literature Criticism & Why Is It Important?
A brief history, some definitions, and why I do this crazy work!
Children’s books and literary criticism have something in common: they’re both misunderstood. Unfortunately, this means my work is confounding to many people. When I say I’m attempting to write children’s books, I often get two responses: a sweet and slightly patronizing “That’s cute,” or “Oh, I have a great story idea for you!” Both are infuriating.
But when I tell people I also write about children’s books, the response is worse—there is none. Most people have no idea what that means or why it’s even needed.
It’s difficult to explain succinctly, even for me, someone who’s engrossed in both art forms (yes, literary criticism is an art form). There are a lot of things I could cover, but let me start by providing some definitions.
What is children’s literature?
What is children’s literature? It seems obvious, but it’s actually harder to define than some might think. Philip Pullman, the famous children’s author, said in a talk at the Royal Society of Literature in 2001, “…I should begin by trying to say what children’s literature is; but that’s not as easy as it seems. We think we know what it is—there are books about it, you can be a professor of it—but it still seems to me rather a slippery term. It’s not quite like any other category of literature.”1
Children’s literature is a broad term that encompasses all written works geared to be read by children and young people. It includes fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, which are categorized by age group, form, and genre. What’s tricky is these are not clear delineations, nor do we want them to be. Still, when searching for a specific children’s book, it’s helpful to know that each form (board book, picture book, early reader, middle grade, and young adult) often includes the same genres and subgenres of adult literature (fantasy, fairy tales, myths, biography, sci-fi, horror, literary fiction, etc.). Categorizing by age group is necessary but limiting. Sure, use it as a starting point but never as an end point. Nothing is more detrimental to the development of a budding reader than telling them they’re too old for a book. Like Pullman says in his speech, “It makes more sense to me to think of the movement from childhood to adulthood not as a movement along but as a movement outwards, to include more things.”
Of all the children’s literature forms, the picture book is my favorite. It’s also the most misunderstood.
What is a picture book?
Picture books are generally considered simple and easy to make when most are anything but. This is where the confusion begins.
I recently read a wonderful piece in The Horn Book written in 2012 by the late poet and children’s author-illustrator Karla Kuskin, where she talks about the dismal state of picture book reviews and how and why we should do better (more on that later). She begins with an emphatic declaration:
“A PICTURE BOOK IS A COMPLICATED FORM OF COLLABORATIVE ART.”
That sums them up nicely, but let’s elaborate a little more.
In Barbara Bader’s American Picturebooks: From Noah’s Ark to the Beast Within (1976), she defines the picture book as:
“A picturebook is text, illustrations, total design; an item of manufacture and a commercial product; a social, cultural, historical document; and foremost, an experience for a child.
As an art form it hinges on the interdependence of pictures and words, on the simultaneous display of two facing pages, and on the drama of the turning of the page.
On its own terms its possibilities are limitless.”
So why is this brilliant and sophisticated art form underestimated? There are two main reasons:
People don’t understand how they work—especially the complex and crucial interplay between text and image. Unfortunately, many picture book makers don’t understand this either. The industry is infiltrated with simplistic, condescending, didactic, drab stories (please, no more celebrity picture books!) that diminish the art form and negatively influence young readers. Still, good writers and illustrators know that—just as Bader said—the potential of the form is limitless, and that these stories are an exciting, ongoing experiment.
People underestimate children. Adults forget how intelligent and deeply feeling children are, and mistakenly believe that if they don’t understand something, kids won’t either—when actually, they are far better at grappling with ambiguity than adults are, and they’re quicker to notice things, giving them fresh and interesting perspectives.
Here’s another complication: picture books are intended for children, but are written, illustrated, edited, marketed, reviewed, sold, and often read aloud by adults. If we’re not careful, children become an afterthought. The key is to create universal human stories that reflect the true, lived experiences of children, and to honor those truths and the art form throughout each touch point of the process.
Kuskin explains, “When it [a picture book] is very well done, it is an artistic achievement worthy of respectful examination and honor. Even failures, and especially near misses, deserve the kind of attention and understanding given to serious creative endeavors. Picture books do not get this often enough. Like children, they are short, and often condescended to by people who, because they do not spend much time with them, do not know better.”2
My journey into this world began during the pandemic. We were already a big book family, but it wasn’t until we had that strange, unprecedented amount of time to read picture books that I truly recognized them for their artistic merit. That deep, concentrated exposure to the form felt like taking a crash course in Lit Studies where I discovered that my classmates were a lot smarter and cooler than me. It made me want to dig deeper.
What is Literary Criticism?
Literary criticism is the comparison, analysis, interpretation, and evaluation of works of literature. It’s a deep engagement that helps us interpret and appreciate intellectual and artistic aspects of a text, and often provides historical and political contexts. It also fosters critical thinking and ignites conversations and connections between the book and the reader.
Literary criticism has a long history, dating back to the ancient Greeks with thinkers like Plato and Aristotle, and has evolved over time through various modes and theories. What we think of as literary criticism today didn’t come about until the 20th century, with New Criticism—which is essentially a close reading that provides a unique perspective of a text. (Read this brief history to learn more.)
A Very Brief History of Children’s Literature
Early children’s stories were mostly spoken stories, songs, and poems used to educate and entertain. The first picture book for children is generally considered Orbis Sensualium Pictus by John Comenius, published in 1658 as an educational tool with illustrations for children. But it wasn’t until the 18th century, with the development of the concept of childhood, that children’s literature emerged as a distinct category.
During this period, fables, folktales, and fairy tales were published in print, and in 1744, John Newbery opened the first publishing house dedicated to children’s stories. His revolutionary book A Little Pretty Pocket-Book included stories, games, letters, and a songbook, designed to amuse and teach children the alphabet. In the 19th-century, literary rates and the demand for children’s books grew, as did advances in color printing technologies, creating exciting new opportunities for the picture book. Artists like Kate Greenaway, Walter Crane, Randolph Caldecott, and Beatrix Potter propelled the form in new and lively directions. Then, in 1928, Wanda Gág published Millions of Cats. Her revolutionary approach transformed the picture book and how we tell stories to children. (You can read about it here.)
Children’s Literature Criticism
Children’s literature criticism really took off in the 20th century when it developed into an area of academic study. In 1924, Bertha Mahony Miller and Elinor Whitney Field founded The Horn Book Magazine, a newsletter from The Bookshop for Boys and Girls in Boston that evolved into articles and essays about issues and trends in children’s literature and reviews of new books for children. For over 100 years, it’s remained the most prominent resource for children’s literary criticism.
What’s so interesting about children’s literature criticism and children’s literature is both fields are comparatively new to the literary world. Additionally, children’s books and literary criticism are thought of in two polarizing ways: one as inferior and simplistic, the other as elitist and pretentious. Why should one adult’s personal opinion be more valuable than a general popular response? Both the children and many of the adults who read these books know nothing about literary value systems and don’t understand the point of them. And yet, children are often the best critics; they instinctively and playfully practice literary theory without even knowing. But ‘critic’ has become a dirty word.
Why is children’s literature criticism important?
Literary critic, Peter Hunt, writes in Criticism, Theory, and Children’s Literature (1945), “Working with children and books, we cannot assume the kinds of agreed-upon values which exists in academia…Neither most children nor most practitioners are interested in abstractions. Anyone attempting to develop a coherent ‘poetics’ of children’s literature consequently has to justify the task to both strangers and sisters. Anyone working in any way with children’s books must justify her or himself constantly to a huge range of different people, and fight for status of various kinds.”3
Picture books are a different form of children’s literature; its unique features require a unique poetics. Criticism is not written for the picture book’s audience, but for teachers, librarians, booksellers, parents, and adults who buy and read these books to children, which means the critic needs a dual perspective: children’s and their own. They must synthesize a picture book’s aesthetic merit with the skills, needs, and desires of children who are looking at and listening to these stories.
Perhaps this is why, as Kuskin claims in her 2012 The Horn Book Magazine piece, there are so few picture book reviewers studying the form and dealing with its history. Most reviews of picture books are short, general plot summaries, which isn’t always the reviewer’s fault. Print magazines and newspapers have limited space. Plus, it is not as if there’s a huge demand for literary journalism, hence the shuddering of so many magazines and journals. Still, it’s imperative that we do better. Kuskin writes, “a critic not only needs to know what she likes, she also has to be able to say why. Know-nothing attitudes are at least partially responsible for the short shrift or ‘plot summary’ school of picture book criticism… Can a plot summary or an appraisal…really be all there is to say about thirty-two pages of graphic drama starring pictures and words?”4
I’ve become increasingly interested in picture books as taste-makers (another dirty word). For many children, these books are their first exposure to the visual, literary, and collaborative arts, helping to shape them not only as readers and creatives but as humans. Bookmakers, educators, and critics have a responsibility as taste-makers to elevate the picture book’s place in society. They must learn what picture books are about, read and study the greats, give voice to new, diverse talent, and champion the intelligence of young readers. This isn’t an easy task; it takes time, and there is much to learn, but without it, the art form suffers; children suffer.
The legendary children’s author and illustrator Maurice Sendak said, “I think they [critics] should learn what picture books are all about. There is some fine mystery in this difficult form, a mystery that is the artist’s business. What I’m objecting to is that picture books are judged from a particular, pedantic point of view vis-à-vis their relation to children—and I insist that the picture book is much more.”5
I agree with Sendak—the mystery is the artist’s business—but as a critic, it’s my job to pay attention, and get as close as I can to revealing it.
This post barely scratches the surface of these topics. Maybe in the future, I will turn it into an ongoing series. Let me know if you’re interested.
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Thank you!
Pullman, Philip. Speech given at the Royal Society of Literature. December 6, 2001. Via lithub.com
Kushkin, Karla. “To Get a Little More of the Picture: Reviewing Picture Books” The Horn Book. November 29, 2012.
Hunt, Peter. Criticism, Theory, and Children’s Literature. 1945.
Kushkin, Karla. “To Get a Little More of the Picture: Reviewing Picture Books” The Horn Book. November 29, 2012.
Sendak, Maurice. “Conversations with Maurice Sendak.” 1977 Interview with Walter Lorraine. Caldecott & Co.: Notes on Books and Pictures. 1988.
Thank you for articulating this so beautifully. Picture books are indeed a complex art form, not a simple one. As both an author and former art director, I couldn’t agree more—the best ones feel effortless because they are crafted with such care.
I miss Karla. Thank you for the memory.
About the reviews of picture books: the most frustrating feeling is when the reviewer doesn't even acknowledge the illustrations, or writes something like "large colorful illustrations accompany the text" (it happened to one of my books, verbatim). That makes you feel so useless...