The medal has landed on some wonderful books. In fact, only one of the 1990s medal-winners that I read was as dutiful and boring as the Newbery medalists of my 1960s childhood. But that doesn't mean the Newbery winners are now perfect. Most recent winners are solid B, B minus or B plus books, boppy and superficial, albeit clever and well-written. At 10 and 12 and 14, kids are in such dorky-looking and angry pain partly because they're just beginning to realize that life demands that, like the White Queen, they must practice believing six impossible things before breakfast.
Childhood is, in other words, very much like adulthood.
Surely the answer grows partly from the 20th century's long strange trend toward treating children as a separate species, as pre-human animalcules who must be segregated from adult work and play, who require special mental nutrients if their fragile little brains are to grow properly. Far too many parents, crazy with anxiety about raising their children right, hand off their judgment to experts ranging from Dr. Spock to Dr. Brazelton, from Parenting magazine to the Newbery medal. It's no surprise that the Newbery medal dates from 1922, a pivotal time in the invention of childhood. When we rebelled we did so sneakily, with a flashlight under the covers. See how long it keeps you riveted.