Are
you familiar with “The Trinity of Discourse,” the notion that communication can
be understood by considering the distance between three factors—the speaker,
the reader/listener, and the message? It’s a very useful idea and generally
associated with the scholar James Moffett, who devised a fantastic (my opinion,
here) teaching method based on it. Basically, he advocated that if we begin
with the most direct and basic communication relationships, we could build a
foundation for the more distant and abstract relationships. So far, so good,
right?
But
what happens when we are not sure who is communicating with us? That is the
problem I am facing when reading some current nonfiction. I simply want to know
who is speaking to me. Several weeks ago I mentioned Jon Meacham’s new book
about Jefferson. This book is definitely informative, and it has an interesting
point of view. Readers can learn a lot of history by reading this book. Yet I
was (and still am) concerned that in the process of adapting Meacham’s longer
adult book for middle grade students, the text became less interesting
stylistically, choppier, and changed. Is this still Meacham talking directly to
me, or is this something else? How
are you and I to understand these new “combo-speakers”? In this case, there is
an author and an adapter. I would
very much like to know about this process of adaptation.
Fast
forward to a new title that is soon going to be released. This book is about
Lynda Blackmon Lowery’s experience during the 1965 Selma Voting Rights March
and it is a very significant story. The book reads like a memoir and uses the
word I to indicate that Lynda
Blackmon Lowery is speaking to us. Yet, there are two adaptors. The book states
on the title page that it is by Lynda Blackmon but as told to two other co-authors. Now we have a party of three.
Again, I am not against this process, but I want to know more about it. I
cannot believe that there are no significant differences between writing your
own story and having someone write it for you. Help me understand these
differences. Since I read an advance reader’s copy, maybe there will be
additional information in the final version of the book.
We
have talked a great deal in this blog about how important it is for nonfiction
authors to unpack their processes. We teachers need help explaining to young
readers how nonfiction is created. So if an author writes a book for adults and
it is later adapted for a younger audience by someone else, it would be very
helpful to know more about this process. And if two adapters are working on a
book, we should know about that process too. And if the adapters are using the
pronoun I, let’s hear about why they
decided to do this.
Before
getting off my soapbox, let me contrast the works I discussed above with Marc
Aronson’s nonfiction titles. In many of his books—for example, The Skull in the Rock, If Stones Could Speak, and The Griffin and the Dinosaur—he
carefully situates himself as an observer and learner who is explaining the
work of a scientist. When he uses the word I,
he is referring to himself. He speaks directly to the reader. We know he is sharing
his excitement in learning with us. In fact, young students tell me that when
reading Marc’s books they feel like he is their friend. The connection he
builds with readers is that strong.
Can we make the role of an adaptor that transparent? Should
we?
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