Drop Everything for the Library!

Non-fiction as a genre has always been my least favourite. It reminded me too much of the school books and text books from which we had to extract the precise information that was needed to reproduce on paper and get your marks. While fiction and fantasy could lead you into worlds and stories that stretched your imagination to the fullest, I felt non-fiction limited you to just this world and these people, and these problems. Also, in my mind (and as defined before), non-fiction was equal to ‘informational books.’ Books that presented factual information in a non-linear and (to me) a slightly clinical way.

In the summer holidays, the Bookworm Team was lured back to the Library and its books through a DEFL task (Drop Everything for the Library). Each one got a mini project that forced the participant to delve through the shelves and pages and words in search of a newer understanding of the theme or idea to which they had been introduced. The tasks were designed to touch and bring out of the background, books and themes that were often slighted or glanced over in favour of more prominent ones.

My task was to find three literary non-fiction books that use narrative style for 3 different age groups. About two weeks later, I emerged with two books that I felt could be applicable to two different age groups; both biographies.

Talking it over with Sujata, I realised that by being extremely limited and precise in my definition of non-fiction, I was in turn limiting the selection to books that could be neatly slotted into that accurate category. One conversation with Sujata later, I abandoned all that I thought I knew about non-fiction and emerged with just one truth: ‘All fiction is non-fiction and all non-fiction is fiction.’

Going forth from this state of confusion, I began reading papers and write ups to understand non-fiction as a genre. While non-fiction could be broadly stated to be any fact based text, it is also true that besides expository non-fiction, all non-fiction books have elements or grains of fiction in them. Non-fiction is the literature of fact (T.Lee Williams), but the most beautiful and connectible non-fiction books are those that introduce true information through a fictional medium. Similarly all fiction books are created with a background of non fictioness and reality in the writers mind. There is no escaping the fact that while we have tried desperately to neatly create categories and divisions for our ease of understanding, in truth literature refuses to be limited or contained in boundaries. As I started going through the non-fiction collection in the Library, I got introduced to three main ‘domains’:

Narrative- Which usually follows a linear storyline and relates/conveys true information through the form of a story.

Expository- which is usually non-linear, and is written for the express purpose of conveying information on a particular subject to the reader.

Hybrid- wherein factual information is embedded within a somewhat fictional story line.

While ‘Steamboat School’ by Deborah Hopkinson is a classic example of narrative non-fiction, ‘George and the secret key to the universe’ by Lucy and Stephen Hawking portrays the hybrid category of non-fiction comfortably and a book on different seasons, would be one among the many on the expository shelf.

While keeping these three categories that would appear to encompass non-fiction in mind, I remembered a visitor who had come to Bookworm about a year back. She was researching stories, particularly of conflict and abuse that she placed under the broad term of ‘fact-fiction.’ Stories that were fictional in plot and storyline but which talked about events and conflicts that actually happened and are actually happening in this world. ‘Stepping stones’ by Margriet Ruurs, illustrated by Nizam Ali Badr would be a classic example of this. While it portrays a fictional story of a family in Syria uprooted from their home, it refers and could in all probability apply to thousands of refugees who would find much of themselves reflected in the book.

While my understanding of non-fiction was starting to grow, I also felt a need to reflect on what ‘literary’ means and what makes a book ‘literary’. There were three points that appeared to cover the mantle of literariness: How well it is written (linguistically), how well it ages; and words that force you to consider its meaning whether or not one agrees with it. However, as Sujata later pointed out; and as is with many other aspects of picture books, the concept of ‘literary’ does not seem to have had time to catch up with the growth in quality and appreciation of picture books. Consequently, the definition of ‘literariness’ is more often than not encompassing of novels and ‘classics’, focusing largely on the words in a book; but fails to consider in its criteria one of the most important aspects of picture books that contribute equally with words to make a book ‘magical’.

A response to ‘what makes a picture book literary’ would or definitely should include the quality of meaning and depth of pictures in bringing out the story in a way that had the pictures failed to be present the words would on their own be hollow, empty or meaningless. Such is the power of illustrations that wordless books can convey an entire story, plot, emotion, conflict and response, all in the form of lines and colour.

Keeping all these aspects in mind, there are three books that I read, reread, read about, loved and was touched by, enough to bring non-fiction much closer in thought and understanding. The first book is ‘The wall” by Peter Sis. This book is a brilliant example of how much and how valuably illustrations, sketches, drawings and words are combined in just a few colours to create a masterpiece of a story spread across a few bold pages. Each page has several elements telling parts of the story all at once, some through pictures, some through colours, and some through words placed vertical, horizontal and bordering each page. It combines history and memory to lay out the story of a totalitarian regime through a medium both faceted and connectible.

The second book I chose, was one that had come up often in our discussions at Bookworm about shared responsibility and a shared environment. ‘Common Ground’ by Molly Bang is based on a paper written by Garrett Hardin called ‘Tragedy of the Commons’. The book expands the basic tenet that ‘If there is a common resource, which I can use at little or no cost to me, and with which I can pocket all or most of the profit; I am going to do it’. And this is okay, AS LONG as I am NOT greedy and the commons is larger in comparison to what I use. When these two things are compromised however, we are faced with the reality we are living today. Through stark contrasted colours and a few words, Common Ground relates a story that we all have lived and relived and will continue to live unless a detour pushes a way forward. The book describes a situation that society continues to struggle with, in a way that is both relatable and memorable.

My last book for this project has been a non-fiction favourite of mine from the time I first read it. ‘On a Beam of Light’ by Jennifer Berne, illustrated by Vladimir Radunsky retells the story of Albert Einstein through quirky bright pictures and calligraphic script, in a way that makes the famous physicist and scientist so accessible to young and old alike. The book does not just focus on what the man achieved but dwells equally on the jokes and day to day incidents.

Emerging from this immersion into non-fiction, one of the things that struck me the most, was the amount of criticism non-fiction is vulnerable to.  Non-fiction as a genre, is expected to be true and factual. While a writer may interpret and express this genuineness in different ways, a reader as a critic is much more viable to pick up differences in fact and story that amount to unauthenticity and what may appear to be a disregard to what is being represented in the story. While reading about another Bookworm favourite, ‘Brother Eagle, Sister Sky’, written by Chief Seattle and illustrated by Susan Jeffers, I came across numerous critical reviews that highlighted the misrepresentation of Native Americans as well as other cultural aspects in the book. While a reader may overlook these minor variations in a fictional story, a non-fiction book by default elicits a lot more criticism and requirement for accuracy. This more than anything brought forth an understanding of the complexity and effort that goes into researching and writing a non-fiction story.

It’s astounding how many reservations and self-limitations can be broken down just by reading, and by reading diversely and broadly. This mini-journey down the non-fiction lane has led to critical realizations and understandings of the crucial space that non-fiction literature occupies and serves in a Library collection. The aspects, facets and thoroughness that goes into a non-fiction book along with a merging of art and fact, have combined to create some truly outstanding books.