A while back I was trying to determine what distinguishes children’s books—specifically for older children, say age 10 on average—from young adult, and young adult from adult novels. I think it may consist partly in the following. The protagonists in children’s books are generally not on a path of self-discovery, but rather have a practical goal (saving the Princess in The Tale of Despereaux), and on the journey thereto they come to better understand the world and/or grow through experience. Many of the lessons they learn aren’t too particular to them, but rather are lessons everyone must learn. For example, in The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander, Taran learns to accept his own weakness and to empathize with others. While these are vital lessons to learn, they are general enough that they apply to everyone—everyone is imperfect, none matters more than another, and we often share the very weakness which we despise in others—and they pertain less to his discovering his identity or place in the world, which is where I think YA novels tend to focus. This is why, I would argue, the later Prydain Chronicles tend more toward the young adult genre, given the themes of discovering one’s identity and place in the world, and preparing for marriage—it’s not just a story with a boy and girl in love, which could easily be in a children’s book, but the protagonist is focussed on preparing for marriage and knowing his birth so that he might be viewed, and view himself, as worthy of his beau—and this I think more pertains to the young adult.
In a young adult (YA) novel, the characters are reaching or have reached manhood or womanhood, and are not only learning about the world, but trying to find their place in it. I will say, as an aside, that I don’t think their age truly matters as much as their maturity and place in society—Despereaux isn’t portrayed as a child, yet I’d say his story targets a younger audience. Moreover, what constitutes a “young adult” changes. I think that part of why the YA genre appeals to such a wide age range—from 12-year-olds to people well into adulthood, even in their thirties—is that we now mature so late and so slowly. Thus, I haven’t really defined the genre. More on that later.
Few people seem to know how to write a YA novel without romance, but it does make sense that romance often appears in YA novels, less because of biological and hormonal reasons and more because someone on the threshold of adulthood ought to be wondering how he might live his life in love and service of other, and marriage is a prime manner of doing so. The questions the young adult asks do not need to be explicit philosophical queries. In Anne of Green Gables, Anne finds her identity in small ways, above all in finding that she belongs at Green Gables and is loved as she is, and does not need a more romantic name, prettier hair, or longer words to be a valuable and interesting person.
To contrast with an adult novel, it is not that these aforementioned elements are not present (indeed, any of these genres may contain themes which I’ve assigned to another), but I think they deal more with characters who have already come to know the world, have already grown, and have already found a place in it. That does not mean that they understand the world correctly, have matured rightly, or are satisfied with their place. The Brothers Karamazov is a good example of this. Alyosha begins the novel already as a mature, kind, faithful Christian and would-be monk, but the story follows his struggle to relate to others who are hell-bent on self-destruction or who mock or deny his faith, while he works to remain buoyant on his faith and self-knowledge during the upheaval of leaving the monastery and of Father Zosima’s death (and, specifically, bodily corruption). The characters in children’s stories and YA stories are more akin to clay being formed, or steel being fashioned into something. Adult novel characters have already been heated and fashioned into something (whether skillfully or no, to a good end or a seemingly ruined one), and now must be tempered or refashioned as best as can be—or else break in the process. As one character in Great Expectations says, after having passed through youth and young adulthood and their disappointments and trials:
“I have been bent and broken, but—I hope—into a better shape.”
All undergo trials, but the characters in adult novels are at later stages, and the themes and plot relate to those stages. In an adult novel, whether the protagonist succeeds or fails, grows in virtue or becomes more vicious, finds contentment or despair, he usually has already made decisions and undergone experiences which characters in a children’s book or YA novel have not, and may undergo in their own stories. We should expect a story of a man’s failing marriage to be an adult novel, not a YA novel, because he has already fallen in love and gotten married. If an adult novel—whose protagonist is seen as an adult by the reader—features the protagonist going on a date for the first time, then almost regardless of his age we assume there is some reason this is the first time—he was or is shy, or awkward, or ambitious, or depressed, or simply did not think to—and this will be implicit or explicit in the novel (whereas in a YA novel it is perfectly normal not to have ever sought romance till the story takes place—the story is dealing with a coming of age, or the stage just after it). To use a non-romantic example, any novel can have a character grappling with a grievous death; but in a children’s book it may involve trying to process grief for the first time and understand how to view the world without the deceased person (e.g. Bridge to Terabithia); in a YA novel it may directly impact the protagonist’s view of himself or else propel him on a journey of self-discovery (e.g. Emily of New Moon, which revolves around two deaths, the first of which propels Emily into a journey of self-discovery—who am I without my father?); and in an adult book it may challenge, or serve to demonstrate, a character’s faith or hope (e.g. in Piranesi, it serves to demonstrate a character’s kindness, compassion, and lack of bitterness).
Again, any of these genres may contain all of these elements. And these are not the only elements (the audience targeted is another, and this is done through plot, character types, and the text itself). But I wanted to discuss the nature of characters and their arcs specifically, in order to better discuss, analyze, and write stories. There are two final points I feel I must briefly discuss. First, I didn’t give a hard definition of any of the genres, because I didn’t feel I needed to (what with the categorical terms used), and because it is too difficult. After all, most of what I read are children’s books. And many children don’t like them. The point isn’t to make a hard definition, or to define what a young adult is. It changes across culture and time, and maturity differs across individuals. My point was to take a look at what we generally classify as one or the other, and look at how and why we distinguish them—or what distinguishes them from one another. Second, there are books which may not only possess features of a different genre, but which may span two or all of the genres discussed here. For instance, Great Expectations spans perhaps age 12 to 30 or so throughout the story. In this case, other things such as the target audience and the language level used will help determine its appropriate genre. But that only matters so much—mostly to a bookseller trying to shelve it i the right place. I think, however, that the purpose of distinguishing the themes or natures of children’s books, young adult books, and adult books, was accomplished—at least to the extent I desired in this short essay. And its effect is hopefully that we can better understand and think about any book, whether one that pretty neatly fits in a category or not.
The Curious Critic 