Comics’ Books: Ode to R L Stine
30.11.2020
2020 has brought a lot of novelty to peoples’ lives, both good and bad. So far I’ve tried writing a novel, starting (and frequently rejecting) new exercise regimes, making short videos of my dog just trying to live her life and have created projects with sub-par results in both embroidery and knitting. I’ve also, in a totally non-unique move, become a podcaster. If you haven’t already listened please do, I’d say that talking to comedians about books has come more naturally to me than sewing did.
I’ve mentioned in this blog before that one of my favourite things about making Comics’ Books has been the variety of conversations that have been sparked simply by talking about books. Now that I’m swimming about in Season Two I’ve been able to see some patterns emerging - whether that’s the intersection of education, class and reading, the impact of specific books on a broad range of people or how often comedians panic and try to throw an ‘impressive’ book into the line up even if it’s not really one of their favourites. It’s actually this final issue that I wanted to explore a bit more.
Nowadays there are loads more ways than there have ever been to engage with other readers. Whether that’s a book club with friends, via social media or through podcasts. Still, despite reading being such a mainstream pleasure activity, there seems to be an ever-present sense of having to be seen to be reading appropriately. With Goodreads for example, I’ve noticed that I’m second guessing my choices when I come to listing them publicly. Am I reading diversely enough, seriously enough? Though this is helpful, to a degree, in encouraging readers to step out of their comfort zone and in bringing attention to lesser known authors, it also creates a competitive edge to the simple act of reading. In the first episode of Season Two, Stuart Goldsmith expressed his regret that he didn’t read outside of his bubble of white, male authors when he had the time pre-Fatherhood. In the future hopefully he’ll get a chance to build on that. But he didn’t regret the books he had read. The Stephen Kings. The Terry Pratchetts. He loved them, they entertained him, they made him think, they made him feel. They’re part of what made him a reader. For every seriously intellectual or informative epic I get through, there are a dozen thrillers, romances or downright silly books that I’ve enjoyed along the way and it’s difficult sometimes not to judge myself for that when I see that ratio illustrated back at me.
But I believe that it’s so important not to do so. Not to be ashamed of your penchant for Mills & Boon or your bottomless thirst for horror. If cheesy romances give you that warm and fuzzy feeling then GO. FOR. IT. If you obsess over one author’s books that’s fine too. Look, I’m sure that there should be some sort of caution applied. Don’t read stuff that makes you feel terrible. If it seems that you have refrained from reading anything that gives your brain cells something to feed on for a while, then maybe give something new a go. By reading in and of itself though you’ve become someone who has developed the skills and inclination to pick up a different type of book in the future. That said, don’t assume you don’t get something (more than entertainment) from each book you read. It might be a single line, a character, a feeling you can’t explain suddenly articulated - there’s so often a little unexpected surprise. In one of my favourite podcasts Sentimental Garbage, guests dive deep into books often maligned as being ‘just women’s fiction’, pulling out moments that have impacted them for years.
There’s also books that are SIMPLY FUN. And this is okay. If this seems obvious to you, let me explain. The number of times, both pre and during an episode, that a guest has apologised for reading trash is amazing. Often they’re perfectly happy to admit to loving these books but, just as often, they’re genuinely apologetic. “Sorry if I’m bringing down the tone.” “Sorry, but this is really what I liked to read back then.” “I was young, I didn’t realise!” And usually the episode will be interrupted by my high pitched squeal as I implore them not to apologise. Yes, these books are formulaic. Yes, you were reading them because they were easy. But an entertaining read is not trash!
There’s a particular breed of books that have been so maligned during the series so far and that’s the work of Mr RL Stine. Both Goosebumps and Point Horror have been simultaneously embraced and dissed by comedians including Jessica Fostekew, Tez Ilyas and Pope Lonergan. Obviously these books were huge franchises that were commercially marketed across the US and the UK and were the entry point for many of us both into reading in general and into horror specifically. So it’s not surprising that they’re coming up again and again. But though Tez laughed at how seriously he took the books at the time while Jess swore ‘it’s not cool and I’m not proud’ that she’d read every single Point Horror and Point Crime, what I found incredibly interesting is that all three comedians said that it was these books specifically that had played an important part in getting them reading when they were young. For Tez they’d filled a gap when he hadn’t been encouraged by his teachers to read beyond the basics, Jess explained that she’d had no issue in reading independently until she was 11 and it was Point Horror that ‘broke the seal’ and Pope, in his own words, said, ‘So when I was in year one or year two, they actually thought I was dyslexic because I just couldn’t, I was just a slow learner, I couldn't grasp anything. And then I discovered Goosebump books. I’m forever indebted to R L Stine in that I found something I loved and then didn’t wanna like, relinquish those books. And then Goosebumps lead to this, led to that, led to the other. And then I went in the complete opposite direction and I had a real kind of thirst for knowledge and a love of reading.’
Look, it’s true, I really do want to put this Kafka down now and dive into something fluffy and festive, preferably with dogs and kissing (humans). So I appreciate that I’m labouring a point that works very much in my favour. On a serious note though, I hate the idea that people might be giving up on reading or feeling ashamed because they’re not reading ‘the right stuff’. Or that parents and teachers might be making a kid feel bad for reading every book in The Babysitters Club series or whatever small humans enjoy nowadays. By all means work on increasing the diversity - in all senses - of your TBR but whatever you’re reading this Christmas, dear reader, I wish you all the best.