I mentioned in an earlier post that I used to be a grad
student in literature. Part of why I chose to abort my professor goal had to do
with the feeling that I was becoming a self-righteous intellectual. Whether I
was reading a novel for fun or watching a play at Stratford, I felt that I, the scholar, had to
identify everything that was “problematic” and condemn it. Let’s see what that
looks like in a sample book by a Canadian author.
The Tower Treasure (1927)
is the first novel in the immensely popular Hardy
Boys series. Leslie McFarlane, a Canadian, was the first author to ghost
write under the pseudonym Franklin W. Dixon. Frank and Joe Hardy are the teenage
sons of a middle-class, suburb-dwelling family in Bayport, a modestly sized
city of 50,000. Aside from the crimes that drive the
plot, the world of the books is basically a wholesome place where things are
“swell” and “good night!” is an acceptable exclamation. The boys’ detective
work fits around classes, church, baseball practice, and family meals.
An especially problematic
feature of the story is the class values that operate in the background. When
a package of jewels disappears from the mansion of a reclusive millionaire, the
father of the boys’ friend Slim Robinson is the prime suspect. Mr. Robinson loses
his job, and Slim, the A-student and aspiring engineer, is forced to drop out
of school to get a job. Now here’s the thing: the family also has to move into the poor neighborhood of Bayport. The story
describes their fallen state in one scene when Frank goes to visit his pal:
When they came to the street
where the Robinsons had moved they found that it was an even poorer
thoroughfare than they had expected. There were small houses badly in need of
paint and repairs. Shabbily dressed children were playing in the roadway.
The Robinson’s misery is complete. The father is unemployed, their son has lost his future, and they have nameless street urchins for neighbors. To be identified among the poor is the worst possible condition, and the Hardys must solve the mystery to clear Mr. Robinson’s name and restore the family to the middle class.
What else is problematic
in this story? Gender. Mrs. Hardy’s role in the story is limited to enabling
the boys’ adventure, mainly by packing them lunches as they go off sleuthing.
For example, “When [she] heard the boys’ plan, she thought it an excellent one
and immediately offered to make some sandwiches for them. By the time they were
ready to leave she had two small boxes packed with a hearty picnic lunch”
(157). The mother has her own car, but doesn’t seem to need it; she never
leaves home. The only exception is the final scene when all the characters
gather at the house of Mr. Millionaire to celebrate the solved case (and I’m
not sure why, but I pictured her wearing oven mitts).
 |
| Leslie McFarlane |
Now what do critics do with all of this? Here’s what I would
say: “Aha! I knew it, you backward, middle-class, patriarchal so-and-so! (to borrow an expletive from
Joe Hardy) “I see your ideology of class and gender oppression, and I censure
it!” This is the spirit of judgment and condemnation that just stinks from a
mile away. It’s the petty mindset that claims moral high ground and elevates
one’s self above the author. Yes, The
Tower Treasure perpetuates a vision of the middle class that alienates the
lower class and limits women. But (and I say this to myself) let’s not go the extra step of using a children’s
story to inflate our moral ego.
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