Every child knows that certain adults are enemies of wonder.
These adults are not just scornful of fantasy. They are determined predators of it. They may not actually rip a comic book or a DVD out of that child’s hands, but they will let that child know that such pursuits are garbage, and that taking enjoyment in them is in some way disreputable, something to be ashamed of.
These adults will tell the parents of a child who reads fantasy that they’ve “read somewhere” that such books, such movies, are bad for children.
Asked to identify where they read this intelligence, they will either not be able to mention a source, or will name a source that if investigated will turn out to have no such data of the kind.
The important thing is that the imagination is not to be encouraged. It is to be stomped out, destroyed, salted over, denied.
Every child knows these adults. In some unlucky cases those adults are their caregivers and in such cases it is an ordeal that can only be endured. In other cases those adults are relatives who issue their decrees during family visits, and who can make dedication to a frivolity, to a universe not our own that can be fun to visit once in a while, somehow shameful, despicable, indictments of the children as human beings.
Every adult knows that these adults occupy an important ecological niche in the psychology of childhood, in that they are actually useful…because falling too far into the world of fiction, without sufficient attention to the concerns of the real, is indeed a trap that some of us fall into. Every adult also knows that these adults have their own fictions, just as pernicious, among them their supreme faith in their own worthiness to cast judgments. We know that these adults have fantasies of their own. The aunt who told me that comic books are trash, but knew the storylines of every daytime drama on TV, to the extent that she could discuss the lives of those fictional people in as much detail as the worst comic book fan can discuss the permutations of the life of Thanos – she did not sense the irony, and would not have recognized it even if it had been pointed out to her. The ones I encounter sometimes now who want me to know they never read fiction because it’s frivolous and prevent me from addressing the world as it really is – but who inevitably have a great idea for a novel that I can write for them in order to make us both a million dollars – do not sense the irony either.
Nor do those who have no problem with fiction but who hate and scorn any attempt at significance; who want it empty, because it’s the emptiness that attracts them. In their own way they are enemies of wonder too, because they are enemies of transcendence.
These are related phenomena.
Every child knows that some adults are the sworn enemies of wonder.
Every child knows that this makes them dangerous, and sad cases worthy of pity.
Comment By: Chris Barkley
August 14th, 2015 at 10:17 am
My parents tried to rip comic out of my hands as a child. TRIED, but did not succeed, happily.
Comment By: Nancy Williams Laird
August 14th, 2015 at 10:17 am
My mother called comic books and movie magazines those “trashy movie books” etc.
Comment By: David Vineyard
August 14th, 2015 at 10:17 am
I eventually pointed out that the Westerns my father watched slavishly on television had the same relation to reality and actual history as the wildest science fiction movie, but he never tried to repress my reading whether he liked it or not.
My parents view of books in general was that the fact of reading trumped the subject matter in most cases.
Comment By: Sheree Nikstaitis
August 14th, 2015 at 10:17 am
I was a bookish kid, more on the nerd side of the social structure than anything else. When I hit puberty, I started hanging out with the “wrong” crowd, and was promptly shipped off to my father’s home. Unfortunately, this was also the home of my wicked stepmother….a horrid hag that would rip any book right from my hands, trash it, and berate me for not playing outside like normal kids. She would engage in lengthy diatribes about how reading was worthless and football/basketball/sports-in-general were the penultimate adolescent experience. I don’t believe I lasted more than 6 months of that before running away….I just didn’t have the backbone or experience to stand up to her until well into adulthood.
Comment By: T-Roy Lent
August 14th, 2015 at 10:17 am
I actually didn’t have any one like that. At 12 I was reading Tanith Lee’s The Silver Metal Lover and the like and no one inquired what the books were about. It was enough that I was seen and not heard.
Comment By: Linda Robinson
August 14th, 2015 at 11:18 am
My family didn’t understand my taste in — and love for — books. Neither of my parents read much more than the daily newspaper…which was odd, because my mother taught for awhile. Oh, well. SF was my escape from reality and temporary relief from depression.
Comment By: Robert Sommers
August 14th, 2015 at 11:18 am
I’ve seen far too many people like that. I remember seeing a child eying a stack of Harry Potter books in a store and being told by her mother that they didn’t read “those” kinds of books. I still feel sorry for that kid.
Fortunately for me, both my parents are readers. And while they didn’t necessarily share my enthusiasm for SF&F, I can’t imagine either of them ever telling me not read something.
Comment By: Barb Padgett
August 14th, 2015 at 11:18 am
It isn’t just kids whose imaginations get quashed, either. About 20 years ago, I made suggestion to my boss about a product, and yes, I admit I got the idea from something I saw on Star Trek, but it was still a good idea. However, he derided it as something “out of science fiction”. Today, someone who understood the importance of being able to imagine things that seem farfetched is making a lot of money from a very similar product.
Comment By: Bill Warren
August 14th, 2015 at 11:18 am
When I was just beginning to go nuts over filmed and printed science fiction, I repeatedly heard neighbor kids decry it, explaining it was terrible because “it’s impossible and can’t happen.” I was confused because that was why I liked science fiction. I realized the kids were just repeating what grownups said–after all, they eagerly went to those movies with me. A few years later, when Sputnik was launched, their gleeful claim was that now science fiction was over with….
Comment By: Elena Gaillard
August 14th, 2015 at 12:18 pm
Damn, I was one of the lucky ones. My mom taught me to read when she got tired of reading my comic books aloud to me. My dad bought me stacks and stacks of books, and took me to the library twice a week. No wonder I turned out twisted.
Comment By: T-Roy Lent
August 14th, 2015 at 12:18 pm
I wonder how often the ‘enemies of wonder’ engender curiosity and desire for forbidden fruit? I certainly got my kid to read several early chapter books cover to cover by describing Captain Underpants as ‘terrible books that no kid should ever read’ even though I said it with a smile as I handed the book to the kid.
Comment By: Michael Rapoport
August 14th, 2015 at 12:18 pm
Absolutely, Adam-Troy. Sharing.
I would go even further. I think it’s crucial for parents (and other adults) not only to indulge that which fires a child’s imagination, but to give children enough latitude and freedom so that they can discover and pursue their passions in life – what they want to dedicate themselves to, what makes them want to get up in the morning. I am extremely lucky to have had parents who did that for me, and I am trying to do that for my own kids.
Comment By: Jen Bredell
August 14th, 2015 at 1:17 pm
Rationale for this unkindness: If you want your children to be contented with their lot in life, you really do not want them to learn that there are alternatives. “Don’t eat that, dear, it will give you a tummyache.” morphs into “Don’t read that, honey, it will give you aspirations and angst.” And Mama wants you to be safe and comfortable!
Comment By: Mark Carroll
August 14th, 2015 at 2:18 pm
Ah, the Autumn People.
Comment By: Craig Shaw Gardner
August 14th, 2015 at 3:18 pm
My parents, who generally let me read and watch what I wanted, decided at the age of 16 that I was Too Old for Comic Books, thereupon guaranteeing that I would read comics for the rest of my life.
Comment By: Elizabeth Fox
August 14th, 2015 at 3:18 pm
My parents were both readers and my dad was in First Fandom. I lucked out.
Comment By: George
August 15th, 2015 at 11:01 am
I was lucky in many ways. My parents were both readers who enjoyed Science Fiction and Fantasy almost as much as I did. (My mom has even attended a few SF Cons with me other the years). And even those relatives who weren’t big on reading never tried to discourage or put me down from reading stuff.
Comment By: Michael Rapoport
August 14th, 2016 at 2:20 am
One of my favorites of all your essays.