The longer I live with teenagers, the less I worry about social media and the Internet heralding the
demise of the printed word.
I heard an interview with a movie reviewer on the radio the other morning who was lamenting the
movie industry was about to unleash yet another teen heartthrob trilogy. The last one was about
vampires. This time it’s the Hunger Games.
But he brought up an interesting point about where the movie’s expected box
office success stemmed from. Not from action figures or some other toy, not from comic books or an
animated cartoon series from days gone by, a current fad or from anything online. He credited its
success to the popularity of a book series – real ink and paper, turn-the-page, paperback novels.
Kids are reading books.
Between my stepson, who moved out a few years ago and is about to graduate from university, and
my daughter, who has to put up with living with me for a few more years, I’ve lived with teenagers for
close to 10 years now.
With all the time they spend alternating between text messaging and playing games on their
laptops, a lot of them still enjoy the
simple pleasure of snuggling down with a good book.
My daughter read the Hunger Games a year or two ago (I think the first book
was published in 2008) and she was hyped about seeing the movie
on opening day. Probably because she lives on her computer whenever she’s in
the living room, I forget she loves books and so do a lot of other kids.
She has accumulated a sizeable collection over the years from new and old authors. She’s into Edgar
Allan Poe at the moment and recently educated me on some Ray
Bradbury I hadn’t come across even though I thought I’d read all his works. With the older authors,
the older the book editions – especially hardcovers – she can add to her collection the happier she
is.
Books seem so far removed from video games and laptops, but maybe that contrast to modern
technology is one way kids have of looking back to where we’ve been to find out where they are.
It sometimes surprises me to hear young people listening to early Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath,
which now date back 40 years or so. A few weeks ago I was up at VIU and a DJ was playing I’ve Got a
Woman by Ray Charles, which predates me by a few years.
“What a cool song. What is that?” my daughter asked when she heard Donovan’s Season of the
Witch on a TV commercial recently, a song that has resurfaced quite a few times since it was first
released in 1966.
In my teens I thought everything about the culture of my teen years was entirely original. I
remember feeling a little miffed when the father of a girl I was dating in 1973 said he thought John
Fogerty sounded like Little Richard.
Now that I’m in my 50s I’ve had time to see more than just fashion, blues and politics recycled and,
yes, Fogerty did sound a bit like Little Richard.
I’m slowly learning to check myself before I say, “That sounds like….” whenever my daughter plays
some new music for me.
Compared to my generation, young people today seem to be reviewing a broader spectrum of
music, culture and technologies of the past 120 years or so, to question where they came from,
where they’re going and where their culture might take them.
Maybe that explains the continuing popularity of steampunk.
So, when I see young people who blend so easily with modern technology and culture, but can still
spend an afternoon enjoying a good book, I guess it gives me hope for the survival of the printed
word and confidence they’re asking the right questions to ensure their future.
