A gold star for tedium. As a father of two children whom we shower with books and to whom we read aloud all the time, I look for any pointers I can get to good children’s literature. I commented some months ago on the bewildering variety of children’s book medals, but the greatest attention and acclaim seem reserved for the Newbery medalists. So why do they have to be so boring, I wondered as I perused this year’s list, and this Salon essayist agrees that the Newberys are “insomnia-curing”, “eat-your-spinach books”, “the books
that stayed on display at the library
because no one checked them out”.

…(M)any adult
readers unquestioningly and uncritically accept the
Newbery medal…because many of us were well-trained and
obedient children, children who respected authority.
Bookish kids were often the homework-doers, the
good-grade-getters, the ones who took our vitamins and sat
still for the eye doctor. When we rebelled we did so
sneakily, with a flashlight under the covers. And so lurking
in the back of many minds is an atavistic belief that the
grownups are always right — that the books we were
sneaking for pleasure weren’t as good for us as the
award-winners we should have been reading. We too often
treat the Newbery awards as if we were still children being
told what’s good and what’s bad, what’s right and what’s
wrong.