We Need to Talk More About What Makes a Book Good

Beyond the Buzz: What Truly Makes a Book Resonate with Young Readers?

In an era awash with digital distractions, the quiet act of a child engrossed in a book is becoming a rarer, yet more precious, sight. While the decline in reading habits for both children and adults is a growing concern, the conversation often stalls when it comes to a crucial question: which books are actually *good* for our kids? This isn't just about personal preference; it's about fostering a deeper engagement with literature and equipping students with the tools to critically appreciate the written word.

The Canon vs. The Contemporary: A Stalemate in Literary Debate

For generations, a persistent debate has simmered between those who champion the enduring power of the literary canon and advocates for the vibrant, often controversial, world of contemporary young adult (YA) fiction. This divide, however, often overlooks a fundamental aspect: the nuanced discussion of what constitutes literary merit itself.

Many traditionalists hold up classic works as unassailable pillars of Western thought, expecting them to be revered rather than dissected. The reasoning behind their brilliance, their profound impact, or their sheer entertainment value is frequently left unarticulated, leaving many students feeling disconnected from these heralded texts. The expectation is admiration, not critical inquiry.

Conversely, proponents of modern YA literature often prioritize themes of diversity, empathy, and contemporary relevance. While these are undoubtedly important, the focus can sometimes shift away from the fundamental craft of storytelling. The narrative mechanics and the quality of the prose can take a backseat to sociopolitical messaging, with any critique sometimes being misconstrued as a sign of intolerance rather than thoughtful engagement.

This creates a landscape where the appreciation of a book can feel less like an intellectual pursuit and more like a moral litmus test. The emphasis often rests on whether the reader is "virtuous enough" to appreciate a text, rather than on a genuine exploration of why a particular book works, or doesn't work, on a literary level.

When "Good" Becomes a Subjective Minefield

A recent experience with a highly acclaimed YA novel, "The London Eye Mystery," highlighted this very dilemma. This 2007 book, lauded by major literary review outlets for its intricate plot and unique narrator, proved to be a surprisingly tedious read for my elementary-aged sons and me. The narrative, intended to be a compelling puzzle, felt sluggish, bogged down by repetitive narration and a resolution that failed to impress.

The book's central conceit, a narrator with autism, was praised as a distinctive element. However, it led me to question whether empathy for the narrator's unique perspective might have inadvertently influenced critical judgment. For us, the narrator's constant observations, while perhaps intended to showcase his distinct worldview, became wearisome, and the payoff for his supposed brilliance felt underwhelming.

This personal reaction, while valid, underscores a broader issue. When influential tastemakers deem a book "good" and articulate their reasons, a disagreement isn't just a matter of taste; it's an invitation to a deeper conversation about literary quality. Yet, such nuanced discussions seem to be a shrinking part of our educational discourse.

The Peril of Presumption Over Persuasion

In my own teaching experience, particularly with ninth and tenth graders, I assigned significant works like "The Wealth of Nations" and "The Communist Manifesto." My goal wasn't for students to blindly accept these texts but to critically engage with their arguments. Understanding the author's claims and assessing their validity was paramount, fostering a respectful intellectual exchange rather than passive assimilation.

It's rare to witness proponents of the canon passionately defending one classic novel over another with specific literary reasoning, or YA enthusiasts acknowledging the occasional shortcomings of even their most beloved contemporary works. Instead, there’s a tendency to protect entire literary categories, often overlooking the fact that every body of work, no matter how esteemed, contains its share of less successful pieces.

The discourse surrounding literature too often devolves into a clash of ideologies or a display of tribal affiliation, rather than a focused examination of literary merit. The question of what makes a book truly great, or even just good, is frequently sidelined.

Cultivating Critical Taste: The Educator's Role

I am not suggesting that the sole criterion for a good book is whether it appeals to every self-indulgent teenager. However, I firmly believe that educators have a vital role in guiding students toward a more robust understanding of literary quality. Making a case for a particular work is essential, but the arguments supporting that case should be open to discussion, not presented as unquestionable truths.

This involves more than simply assigning books; it requires actively teaching students how to unpack arguments, analyze narrative structures, and evaluate the effectiveness of language. It’s about moving beyond a simple "like" or "dislike" and delving into the "why" behind their reactions.

The Value of Disagreement and Diverse Perspectives

My own reading journey has been marked by personal preferences. I found immense value in Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment," yet struggled to connect with "The Brothers Karamazov." Similarly, in the YA realm, Louis Sachar's "Holes" is a book I deeply admire, while "A Wrinkle in Time" left me feeling rather indifferent. These personal tastes, while subjective, are healthy and should form the bedrock of our discussions about what students read and how these books are taught.

It is perfectly acceptable, and indeed beneficial, for students to encounter books they may not initially enjoy. As E.D. Hirsch Jr. has long argued, a foundational knowledge of texts from Homer to Shakespeare is crucial for cultural literacy. Exposure to diverse literary styles and historical contexts broadens horizons and can cultivate critical faculties through the very act of wrestling with challenging material.

Therefore, a student's immediate "liking" of a book should not be the ultimate measure of its worth. However, students would undoubtedly benefit from educators dedicating more time and energy to exploring precisely *why* a particular book is considered valuable from a literary standpoint. This analysis is not an either/or proposition; teachers should illuminate the literary merits of a work while simultaneously encouraging students to form their own informed judgments.

Shared Experiences: Finding Joy Even in Less-Than-Perfect Books

The experience with "The London Eye Mystery" also offered an unexpected insight into the power of shared reading. Even though my sons and I didn't particularly "like" the book, the act of reading it together transformed the experience. The book's peculiar details became inside jokes, providing a source of amusement and connection that transcended the literary quality of the text itself.

The laughter and shared ridicule turned a potentially tedious activity into a memorable family moment. This highlights a crucial point: the joy of reading isn't solely contingent on the book's inherent "goodness." The shared experience, the laughter, and the creation of lasting memories are invaluable outcomes, even when the literary merit is debatable.

This realization is a powerful reminder of why continuing to read with children, regardless of the specific book, is so important. It fosters connection, sparks conversation, and builds a foundation for a lifelong appreciation of the written word, even if the journey involves a few yawns along the way.