We’ve all heard about the disappearing parent syndrome. We know why parents are not always there in YA lit, and yes, it is difficult to include family members in coming-of-age stories, but truthfully, I’m not here to discuss *why* YA books often exclude relatives. I’m here to discuss what makes certain portrayals of families more compelling than others.Have you ever read a YA book where the parents are fallen heroes, absentee enablers, or manipulative villains? Perhaps you recognize that trope from the mother who cries every night because of the (dead) spouse who left (mysteriously) all those years ago, or even from the father who (suddenly) appears on the scene, a megalomaniac who can’t wait to recruit his powerful children. And what of the sixteen-year-old girl who *has* to protect her younger sister?
Sounds familiar? Well, it’s the motivation behind the inciting incident in The Hunger Games. And I’m here to tell you why that kind of familial interaction rarely ever works for me.
How does family affect each character? Hermione is the bookish girl because of her (familial) situation in the magical world. Ron is the insecure sidekick because of his position in a long legion of sons. Bill is the wisest and most experienced of the Weasley kids because he’s the oldest. Charlie is the reckless, adventuring type because he doesn’t have the same responsibilities as the second oldest. Percy is the arrogant, stuck-up prefect because being third in line, he needs to be the best at something. Fred and George are the jokesters of the family because after the wise, successful banker, the brave, adventurous dragon-tamer, and the perfect prefect, how else do you distinguish yourself? Ginny is the tomboyish, rarely weepy fighter because of her status as the only girl in a large male-oriented family. These characters–their familial situations are intertwined in their personalities, so much so that you don’t ask whether they are real. And when Harry and co. make their sacrifices at the end of nearly every book, you’ve had enough time to care about their fates and feel the very power of that sacrifice. Rue felt more real to me as a character than Prim did, and Rue is only supposed to be a representation, a reminder of Prim in the games (“But if this is Prim’s, I mean, Rue’s… request” (234)). If Rue imitates Prim so well, how I am to believe that Prim is real? Who is Prim, and why does sacrificing yourself for her even matter?
I don’t really care whether family is included in YA lit. What I care about is the quality and dynamism of the interactions between relatives if they are included. And if you’re going to include family, I’d much rather it be of the Harry Potter kind than that in the Hunger Games.
PS: This was previously a guest post for Asti at A Bookish Heart. Many thanks to her for letting me repost it here.
I don’t really care whether family is included in YA lit. What I care about is the quality and dynamism of the interactions between relatives if they are included. And if you’re going to include family, I’d much rather it be of the Harry Potter kind than that in the Hunger Games.
PS: This was previously a guest post for Asti at A Bookish Heart. Many thanks to her for letting me repost it here.