The Phantom Tollbooth (1

     Children are convenient. They're innocent, unexposed, curious and, best of all, gullible. They are the ideal tool for writers, why not start with a clean slate with which to convey a message? Why not reduce our ugly, adult selfs into small, unknowing children? Why not create Milo and place him on a path to a quest, a quest to tell others of our horrors, our flaws and all of the mistakes to carefully avoid? So, Milo was created, a miniature adult with a heart lured to danger and a heroic quest and new friends. Now, let me assure you, this has been done many times before, perhaps not in the same whimsical, word-play filled way, maybe not with the same names or places or the exact same plots, but this has been done before, in very similar ways. 

     The problem with using such conveniences in books, is that others find them to be convenient too. Not to say that Norton was looking for a shortcut around writing the book, He wrote and rewrote it, but I must say that I've started to tire of the same themes (some of which being to avoid hate and malice, draining yourself of life, embarking on journeys of endless tasks...) the same characters (the ones to learn lessons off of, the princesses, the kings, the amusing ones...) and the same hero ( who goes through some life-changing experiences, who saves the ones in need, who tries, and learns and always, always (in these sorts of books at least) succeeds). The first time I read this book, I was won over by its charm, by Chroma the Great and the alluring concerts, by the countless personifications, by the eatable words. But, by re-reading this book, I realized the unless repetitiveness of it, the lessons always learned elsewhere, the lessons that I've been forced to learn over and over again. In the beginning of the book, the pages were filled with annotation after annotation, but as the story dragged on, my scragged writing became sparse, leaving the pages rather barren of notes. It wasn't that my motivation to write that started to decrease so rapidly, but rather the new things to notice that seemed to have disappeared. Why write then rewrite then rewrite again that Milo is still a child and attracted to this childish world of his, that he's a symbol for adults, but reduced into the form of a child, a form in which he'll be able to learn, that he's begun to learn due to this character and that character and this situation and that quest? I did try to dig deeper but ran into stone.

     I wonder, though, is this what makes a children's book? A piece of literature where things are repeated again and again? While reading this book the first time, I was capable of drawing out themes and make text to world connections. Charlotte's Web   did the same thing, it drilled that same things into the reader's mind, endlessly. It seems that these books often underestimate the capabilities of their audience. I do realize that both of the books mentioned do say deeper things. If they didn't, then why would we be re-reading in 8th grade? But I can't help but be frustrated by a clear lack of originality at the roots of the books. I so suppose that there are limits to things that can be (or more like socially accepted to be) conveyed in books directed towards children, but I do feel that, in some ways, the authors have managed to limit themselves.