Once Upon a Time : The Power of Stories

We all have one book that we claimed as ours as a kid, right? The book that defined our reading habits and built us into the lover of stories that we are with the ideas that define us. Don’t we? I have a friend who claimed Danny, Champion of the World. Another lived and died by Redwall. Mine was The Phantom Tollbooth. I must have read that dozens of times, following Milo into Lands Beyond, jumping to Conclusions, mining for numbers*.

Black and white drawn map of the Lands Beyond.
The Kingdom of Wisdom, from Norton Juster’s The Phantom Tollbooth
A yellow and sepia toned map
The map of the Archipelago, from Katherine Rundell’s Impossible Creatures.

The lasting effect was two fold. One: I am 1000% a sucker for a novel with a map, especially if they are lands beyond. The second is that I continue to turn to stories to take me away, and to live a new life, even if it’s in the 20 minutes before bed time.

What it is about stories that allows us to be spirited away? How can literature, worming its way through space and time, continue to enchant, enthrall, and repulse us? (I’m looking at you Of Human Bondage.) The other night after reading well beyond her sanctioned bedtime, my daughter sneaked into my room and whispered to me, “Mommy. Colin walked. In the garden.” And who I was I to complain?

In Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden, Mary, a seven year old girl, is sent from India to her uncle’s house on the English moor, where the house is large and strange and the people cold and unwelcoming. She happens upon her cousin Colin, who is bed-ridden and fearful that he will not live to see the age of 10. They find and tend to Colin’s deceased mother’s hidden garden, which had been long-neglected, and, in bringing the garden back to life, Colin comes back to life too.

My daughter is a perfectly able-bodied young person. She lives in a household that loves and wants her, and she (hopefully) will never know cholera in her lifetime, or the fear and loneliness of being sent to a home where no one wants you. And yet she feels the power of the secret garden, feels the warmth of the sun and joins in the laughter of friends who help you all the while. She hears the robins chirping. She hopes that her friend will get better.

This is the power of stories. And these stories are ones that are made up, or that were made up because they were needed. Stories ground us into who we are, and who we could be, whether they come in book format, visual, or audio. Fiction is amazing, but a true story, told honestly and sincerely, can be mind-blowing. This American Life and StoryCorps are two of the most prominent podcasts that tell real stories, of real people, and that manage to elicit empathy and wonder from the listener. As a society, we are hungry to see and be seen, and to see and to understand. Imaginary barriers are all around us, and we want them to come down, if only we can figure out a way to dissolve them. And there are lessons to be learned from stories, too: The diner is alive and well. Don’t sneak. Your dad might be famous, but not how you expect.

Libraries are our repositories of stories and knowledge. People are knowledge, libraries are starting to demonstrate that, with both Human Libraries as well as their literary collections. Libraries are collectors of stories and recommenders of stories. And libraries know, too, that “Everyone has a story to tell” (Eberhart, 2018), and that “Everyone their book” (Ranganathan, 1931). If “the public library serves as a public forum and a place for the exchange of ideas” (Wentz, 2013), then the library is perfectly positioned to offer connection and nodes of empathy. Eliciting, recording, and guarding those stories is how we can keep communal memory and community memories. As Storm Reyes says of herself, the bookmobile allowed her “to know there was a world outside [her home], and I believed I could find a place in it. I had read about people like me and not like me. I had seen how huge the world was, and it gave me the courage to leave. And I did” (quoted in Popova, 2016).

 

*I will admit that pressing The Phantom Tollbooth on my friends got nowhere, it was perhaps the most unpopular of books my friends and I passed around. As one of them said recently, “It’s weird. It’s not rooted in a place. It is the most meta of children’s books.” Tell me how you really feel!

 

Resources

Eberhart, G. M. (2018, February 10). Sharing people’s stories: StoryCorps partners with public libraries. American Libraries. https://americanlibrariesmagazine.org/blogs/the-scoop/sharing-peoples-stories/

Popova, M. (2016, October 10). How libraries save lives. The Marginalian. https://www.themarginalian.org/2016/10/06/libraries-storycorps-bookmobile/

Ranganathan, S. R. (1931). The five laws of library science. Madras Library Association.

Wentz, E. (2013, April 26). The human library: Sharing the community with itself. Public Libraries Online. https://publiclibrariesonline.org/2013/04/human_librar/

 

10 Comments

  • esperanza

    Hi Mei,

    Always love seeing your posts! They are always so warm and welcoming. I have never heard of “The Phantom Tollbooth” before so thank you for including the video. What an interseting story that I may have also loved had I discovered it as a child.

    Great post!

  • Chandler Florence

    @meic this is a beautiful post – I love the magic of your daughter being so immersed in The Secret Garden that she was still thinking of it long after bedtime, and being happy for her friend inside the book. Stories really are windows and we are better people for sharing the view.

    By the way, The Phantom Tollbooth will forever have my heart. Just reading that title brought me back to being tucked in my bed when I was 7 years old, my dad reading a chapter to me and my older sister, and a very familiar-feeling “boy who asked too many questions”. I still keep a copy by my bedside table. That’s my book too, and I’m happy to share it with you.

  • Natalie Wong

    @meic – You’re a lovely writer! I wanted to write something about how stories take us away to a new life and new lands, but I couldn’t quite articulate it (and I certainly would not have done it as well as you have), so I wrote about emojis instead 😂. I’m a fan of The Phantom Tollbooth and must introduce it to my kids this summer. I loved reading both The Phantom Tollbooth and The Secret Garden as a kid and I remember reading them simultaneously with my best friend. We would talk about some of the best parts of our favorite books and play out the “scenes” in the playground at school. Thank you for the eloquent reflection on the power of stories and the library’s role in facilitating the sharing of these stories. @natalie

    • Mei C.

      @natalie Thank you so much for your kind words! I love that you read your favorite books with your best friend and would act out your favorite parts, that totally sounds like something I would have done! Thanks for reading along!

  • Michael Stephens

    @meic @meic, so many cool things here: to be reminded of the Phantom Tollbooth! I had that book, and I remember seeing the television show that you posted. I love the illustrations and the links you shared in this post as well. It reflects your thoughts on stories and how they can take you away or remind you of things.

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