OKay, time for an honest disclosure. Despite talking ABOUT these books by type - and READING about these books, I never actually FINISHED any of the Anastasia books (or a lot of books about certain types of female characters from the late 70's - 80's). I read from authors adjacent to this time period in grad school, and I read criticism of Lowry in texts, but as an Actual Child (TM) in the 80's, I couldn't read these.
There was a certain type of story, whether TV or written literature that I couldn't stomach as a child/tween, and those were of the confident twelve-year-old who speaks to adults and has a knowing air about her. Most of my friends were adults, but it seemed like the adults who made up these characters were... mocking them? I was always horribly afraid of using a word wrong, and adults seemed to think that was cute. They loved to listen to me talk with my "SAT words." (Had I taken the SAT at twelve? No. Did I know what that was? No.) Somehow these characters seemed like a bizarre, made-up thing that only existed with big-city white kids, as created by adults. Ironically, these were also the types of books people gave to me most often as a gift - because they were trying to tell me something.
I missed that, when I was a kid, of course.
Now it's just kind of horrifying. I'm still afraid to read these.
That makes so much sense to me. I tended to pronounce words wrong a lot because I knew them from reading more than conversation, and adults *always* seemed to find that hilarious, and it was so incredibly annoying. But I remember clearly that it made me feel irritated more than small, and irritated with THEM more than myself, so seeing it play out in books felt like a reflection of that experience, maybe? I'm not sure.
For me, books like this worked because they depicted kids who thought and acted so much like me (or at least the me on the inside, in terms of temperament and perspective, I didn't get as outwardly dramatic as Anastasia until I was much more confident in my own body). They were my friends—I didn't connect with other kids who saw me as a peer and not a Weirdo Brain Girl until much, much later. To have picked them up and felt like I was being mocked by them would have been devastating, so I'm not at all surprised that you still avoid them?
It's amazing how much of this that we carry with us into adulthood, how long it takes to process it and figure it out?
These were my very favorite as a kid, and I read them over and over. Everyone in the house could tell I was reading them because of the howls of laughter coming from my bedroom. I still have them but of course it's been a while since I read them. As usual, you are making me want to pick them up again!
It's been so much fun to hear other reactions to these books—someone on Instagram said that Anastasia and Alice McKinley felt like her big sisters who taught her about LIFE, which I loved. But, yes, I laughed and laughed and laughed over these as well. The combination of completely neurotic but also confident in her own abilities felt very... familiar to me. (And still does, if I'm being honest.)
OKay, time for an honest disclosure. Despite talking ABOUT these books by type - and READING about these books, I never actually FINISHED any of the Anastasia books (or a lot of books about certain types of female characters from the late 70's - 80's). I read from authors adjacent to this time period in grad school, and I read criticism of Lowry in texts, but as an Actual Child (TM) in the 80's, I couldn't read these.
There was a certain type of story, whether TV or written literature that I couldn't stomach as a child/tween, and those were of the confident twelve-year-old who speaks to adults and has a knowing air about her. Most of my friends were adults, but it seemed like the adults who made up these characters were... mocking them? I was always horribly afraid of using a word wrong, and adults seemed to think that was cute. They loved to listen to me talk with my "SAT words." (Had I taken the SAT at twelve? No. Did I know what that was? No.) Somehow these characters seemed like a bizarre, made-up thing that only existed with big-city white kids, as created by adults. Ironically, these were also the types of books people gave to me most often as a gift - because they were trying to tell me something.
I missed that, when I was a kid, of course.
Now it's just kind of horrifying. I'm still afraid to read these.
That makes so much sense to me. I tended to pronounce words wrong a lot because I knew them from reading more than conversation, and adults *always* seemed to find that hilarious, and it was so incredibly annoying. But I remember clearly that it made me feel irritated more than small, and irritated with THEM more than myself, so seeing it play out in books felt like a reflection of that experience, maybe? I'm not sure.
For me, books like this worked because they depicted kids who thought and acted so much like me (or at least the me on the inside, in terms of temperament and perspective, I didn't get as outwardly dramatic as Anastasia until I was much more confident in my own body). They were my friends—I didn't connect with other kids who saw me as a peer and not a Weirdo Brain Girl until much, much later. To have picked them up and felt like I was being mocked by them would have been devastating, so I'm not at all surprised that you still avoid them?
It's amazing how much of this that we carry with us into adulthood, how long it takes to process it and figure it out?
These were my very favorite as a kid, and I read them over and over. Everyone in the house could tell I was reading them because of the howls of laughter coming from my bedroom. I still have them but of course it's been a while since I read them. As usual, you are making me want to pick them up again!
It's been so much fun to hear other reactions to these books—someone on Instagram said that Anastasia and Alice McKinley felt like her big sisters who taught her about LIFE, which I loved. But, yes, I laughed and laughed and laughed over these as well. The combination of completely neurotic but also confident in her own abilities felt very... familiar to me. (And still does, if I'm being honest.)