First, read this post by YA Author Justine Larbalestier: The Problem with Boy Books
I’ll wait. It’s a very good post, and the parts I want to respond to are probably not the ones most would expect.
Unfortunately, comments on Justine’s post were closed, so I’m putting my response here on the Chimney.
I have a page here on the Chimney listing 200 YA/MG-ish books with male protagonists and/or authors. For a variety of reasons, most of which aren’t made explicit on the page itself. For example, it makes the point that in fact there are many and even many good YA books with male protagonists and authors.
But to get to my thoughts on the whole “we need more YA books starring boys so boys will read” debate. This argument, as Justine points out, makes several important assumptions, almost all of which are false.
- Boys don’t read. Well, that’s obviously crap. I read and I know many other folks of the male persuasion who do as well. Not only now, but from back when many of us would have classified as YAs ourselves.
- Relatedly: we must solve this problem by getting boys to read YA. Also crap. Justine points out that many boys do read, just not within the genre of YA. The argument seems to be that YA books are for YAs, so if male YAs aren’t reading them, male YAs must not be reading. Which is silly. Although most YA lit focuses on YA (or lightly above) protagonists, sales data shows that the audience, whether intended target or not, is so much wider. First, yes. More female YAs read YA lit than male. In fact, the readership appears to be drastically weighted towards females in all age categories. So despite that settings and characters–and the blunt category label–I don’t think we can say that YA is lit for YAs, thus undermining the argument at issue here.
- A third assumption, which some might disagree about the truth of, is the assumption that we need boys to read more. Do we? That depends on what value we believe/claim reading to have. Is there some positive influence unavailable elsewhere that reading provides? I certainly don’t claim to be able to prove either possible answer there. But even without the full answer, the partial response we can rely on is that reading does have value and does provide some benefits, at least to some people.
I do have to disagree with Justine on one point: books do not have gender, sure. But they have a target audience. Just looking at the above-mentioned readership of YA, it’s clear that some books appeal more to certain people (and arguably groups) than others. So in fact, there are “boy books” insomuch as marketing shows that we can target our product and advertising towards specific groups we wish to cultivate as customers. The underlying question is really whether there is cultural and individual to the reader value in such targeting. Most marketers and companies will naturally argue for the financial value to them. Personally,as I suspect Justine does, I think there’s a great deal of value in having readers cross market category lines. If we indirectly discourage boys from reading “girl books” by creating an opposing category of “boy books” and then hinting very strongly in our marketing that boys should read these in preference to girl books, we’re artificially preventing them from gaining the value of learning about different perspectives.
Now to address my points:
Boys do read. They may not read YA, but as I say in point 2, that doesn’t mean they don’t read. In fact, there’s a strong belief among the book-ish community that boys read a great number of Middle Grade books, and then generally mix in adult genre fiction over time as they age out of the middle grade category. (It’s interesting to note that YA has a much wider practical audience compared to its supposed target audience than middle grade does, such that many readers never age out, or eve pick up the category later in life having not indulged when they were actually young adults.) So there’s no reason to artificially force some sort of supposed gender parity in YA publishing. The fact that YA is less popular with boys does not as claimed equate to reading in general being less popular with boys.
That’s not to say I wouldn’t enjoy a broader array of male protagonists in YA, written by male authors or otherwise. But keep in mind that I read over a hundred books a year, so it’s not that there’s necessarily a deficiency, but that I am an outlier, and further, no longer a young adult, thus somewhat disqualifying me from being a statistic at all. (Though I read at the same pace when I was younger.) Also, I had and have no trouble reading either female protagonists and authors or “girl” books, so again, still not an argument for forcing gender parity in main characters.
And speaking of consumption of alternate media, I don’t enjoy (fiction–or non-fiction, I suppose) books about sports. But I love anime (and manga) that involves sports. As Justine brings up early on, all boys are different. Anecdotally, no amount of sports-themed boy-lead stories are going to automatically bring more males like me into reading YA.
I’m gonna now delve into the Go vs chess analogy in Justine’s post because as you probably know, I love both linguistics and AI. It’s in some ways a brilliant analogy, since it captures the issue of ignorance on the part of the person criticizing YA as simplistic. Although Go has far simpler tools and rules to play, it’s far more complex than chess in it’s play. Words work similarly to games like Go and Chess in terms of the complexity of meaning that can be derived from very simple building blocks. I took those stupid reading level tests in high school. Scored too high to get any book recs. As Justine points out, the complexity of stories come not from the quality of the words themselves, but from how they are arranged. Quality here being defined as conversational level words versus SAT words. For example, I could have said “verbiage” instead of words, but despite the fancy vocab, the meaning is the same. In fact, I could have given the same meaning with “Two-syllable words vs eight-syllable words.” TL;DR: If your plot is simple, you can’t hide it beneath flowery prose. So much more goes into a story than the grammar.
Finally, onto the third point. Justine cites empathy as something that readers can gain from novels. You’re more likely to get empathy from a competently written story about someone different from you than about someone much more similar to you. Similarity enforces rigidity in thinking, where as difference more often encourages flexibility. So if we want boys to read more(they already read plenty accounting for non-gender-related factors!) because of what they gain from reading, then in fact forcing stereotypical gender parity is the opposite of the correct solution. They might read more (they won’t!), but they’ll gain less.
*I’ve actually left out a few very interesting points Justine made in her own post, because I don’t currently have anything to add, and they are separate attacks on this myth from the ones I’ve chosen to address here. But they are just as important! Especially the point about general gender disparity in readership/charactergender/author gender vs. YA specifically.