Anita Tarr – författare

Even though we instruct our children not to lie, the truth is that lying is a fundamental part of children’s development—socially, cognitively, emotionally, morally. Lying can sometimes be more compassionate than telling the truth, even more ethical. Reading specific children’s books can instruct child readers how to be guided by an etiquette of lying, to know when to tell the truth and when to lie. Equally important, these stories can help prevent them from being prey to those liars who are intent on taking advantage of them. Becoming a critical reader requires that one learn how to lie judiciously as well as to see through others’ lies. When humans first began to speak, we began to lie. When we began to lie, we started telling stories. This is the paradox, that in order to tell truthful stories, we must be good liars. Novels about child-artists showcased here illustrate how the protagonist embraces this paradox, accepting the stigma that a writer is a liar who tells the truth. Emily Dickinson’s phrase “tell it slant” best expresses the vision of how writers for children and young adults negotiate the conundrum of both protecting child readers and teaching them to protect themselves. This volume explores the pervasiveness of lying as well as the necessity for lying in our society; the origins of lying as connected to language acquisition; the realization that storytelling is both lying and truthtelling; and the negotiations child-artists must process in order to grasp the paradox that to become storytellers they must become expert liars and lie-detectors.

Even though we instruct our children not to lie, the truth is that lying is a fundamental part of children’s development—socially, cognitively, emotionally, morally. Lying can sometimes be more compassionate than telling the truth, even more ethical. Reading specific children’s books can instruct child readers how to be guided by an etiquette of lying, to know when to tell the truth and when to lie. Equally important, these stories can help prevent them from being prey to those liars who are intent on taking advantage of them. Becoming a critical reader requires that one learn how to lie judiciously as well as to see through others’ lies. When humans first began to speak, we began to lie. When we began to lie, we started telling stories. This is the paradox, that in order to tell truthful stories, we must be good liars. Novels about child-artists showcased here illustrate how the protagonist embraces this paradox, accepting the stigma that a writer is a liar who tells the truth. Emily Dickinson’s phrase “tell it slant” best expresses the vision of how writers for children and young adults negotiate the conundrum of both protecting child readers and teaching them to protect themselves. This volume explores the pervasiveness of lying as well as the necessity for lying in our society; the origins of lying as connected to language acquisition; the realization that storytelling is both lying and truthtelling; and the negotiations child-artists must process in order to grasp the paradox that to become storytellers they must become expert liars and lie-detectors.

Even though we instruct our children not to lie, the truth is that lying is a fundamental part of children’s development—socially, cognitively, emotionally, morally. Lying can sometimes be more compassionate than telling the truth, even more ethical. Reading specific children’s books can instruct child readers how to be guided by an etiquette of lying, to know when to tell the truth and when to lie. Equally important, these stories can help prevent them from being prey to those liars who are intent on taking advantage of them. Becoming a critical reader requires that one learn how to lie judiciously as well as to see through others’ lies. When humans first began to speak, we began to lie. When we began to lie, we started telling stories. This is the paradox, that in order to tell truthful stories, we must be good liars. Novels about child-artists showcased here illustrate how the protagonist embraces this paradox, accepting the stigma that a writer is a liar who tells the truth. Emily Dickinson’s phrase “tell it slant” best expresses the vision of how writers for children and young adults negotiate the conundrum of both protecting child readers and teaching them to protect themselves. This volume explores the pervasiveness of lying as well as the necessity for lying in our society; the origins of lying as connected to language acquisition; the realization that storytelling is both lying and truthtelling; and the negotiations child-artists must process in order to grasp the paradox that to become storytellers they must become expert liars and lie-detectors.

Even though we instruct our children not to lie, the truth is that lying is a fundamental part of children’s development—socially, cognitively, emotionally, morally. Lying can sometimes be more compassionate than telling the truth, even more ethical. Reading specific children’s books can instruct child readers how to be guided by an etiquette of lying, to know when to tell the truth and when to lie. Equally important, these stories can help prevent them from being prey to those liars who are intent on taking advantage of them. Becoming a critical reader requires that one learn how to lie judiciously as well as to see through others’ lies. When humans first began to speak, we began to lie. When we began to lie, we started telling stories. This is the paradox, that in order to tell truthful stories, we must be good liars. Novels about child-artists showcased here illustrate how the protagonist embraces this paradox, accepting the stigma that a writer is a liar who tells the truth. Emily Dickinson’s phrase “tell it slant” best expresses the vision of how writers for children and young adults negotiate the conundrum of both protecting child readers and teaching them to protect themselves. This volume explores the pervasiveness of lying as well as the necessity for lying in our society; the origins of lying as connected to language acquisition; the realization that storytelling is both lying and truthtelling; and the negotiations child-artists must process in order to grasp the paradox that to become storytellers they must become expert liars and lie-detectors.

Contributions by Torsten Caeners, Phoebe Chen, Mathieu Donner, Shannon Hervey, Angela S. Insenga, Patricia Kennon, Maryna Matlock, Ferne Merrylees, Lars Schmeink, Anita Tarr, Tony M. Vinci, and Donna R. WhiteFor centuries, humanism has provided a paradigm for what it means to be human: a rational, unique, unified, universal, autonomous being. Recently, however, a new philosophical approach, posthumanism, has questioned these assumptions, asserting that being human is not a fixed state but one always dynamic and evolving. Restrictive boundaries are no longer in play, and we do not define who we are by delineating what we are not (animal, machine, monster). There is no one aspect that makes a being human--self-awareness, emotion, artistic expression, or problem-solving--since human characteristics reside in other species along with shared DNA. Instead, posthumanism looks at the ways our bodies, intelligence, and behavior connect and interact with the environment, technology, and other species.In Posthumanism in Young Adult Fiction: Finding Humanity in a Posthuman World, editors Anita Tarr and Donna R. White collect twelve essays that explore this new discipline's relevance in young adult literature. Adolescents often tangle with many issues raised by posthumanist theory, such as body issues. The in-betweenness of adolescence makes stories for young adults ripe for posthumanist study. Contributors to the volume explore ideas of posthumanism, including democratization of power, body enhancements, hybridity, multiplicity/plurality, and the environment, by analyzing recent works for young adults, including award-winners like Paolo Bacigalupi's Ship Breaker and Nancy Farmer's The House of the Scorpion, as well as the works of Octavia Butler and China Miéville.

Contributions by Torsten Caeners, Phoebe Chen, Mathieu Donner, Shannon Hervey, Angela S. Insenga, Patricia Kennon, Maryna Matlock, Ferne Merrylees, Lars Schmeink, Anita Tarr, Tony M. Vinci, and Donna R. White For centuries, humanism has provided a paradigm for what it means to be human: a rational, unique, unified, universal, autonomous being. Recently, however, a new philosophical approach, posthumanism, has questioned these assumptions, asserting that being human is not a fixed state but one always dynamic and evolving. Restrictive boundaries are no longer in play, and we do not define who we are by delineating what we are not (animal, machine, monster). There is no one aspect that makes a being human—self-awareness, emotion, artistic expression, or problem-solving—since human characteristics reside in other species along with shared DNA. Instead, posthumanism looks at the ways our bodies, intelligence, and behavior connect and interact with the environment, technology, and other species. In Posthumanism in Young Adult Fiction: Finding Humanity in a Posthuman World, editors Anita Tarr and Donna R. White collect twelve essays that explore this new discipline''s relevance in young adult literature. Adolescents often tangle with many issues raised by posthumanist theory, such as body issues. The in-betweenness of adolescence makes stories for young adults ripe for posthumanist study. Contributors to the volume explore ideas of posthumanism, including democratization of power, body enhancements, hybridity, multiplicity/plurality, and the environment, by analyzing recent works for young adults, including award-winners like Paolo Bacigalupi''s Ship Breaker and Nancy Farmer''s The House of the Scorpion, as well as the works of Octavia Butler and China Miéville.

Contributions by Torsten Caeners, Phoebe Chen, Mathieu Donner, Shannon Hervey, Angela S. Insenga, Patricia Kennon, Maryna Matlock, Ferne Merrylees, Lars Schmeink, Anita Tarr, Tony M. Vinci, and Donna R. White For centuries, humanism has provided a paradigm for what it means to be human: a rational, unique, unified, universal, autonomous being. Recently, however, a new philosophical approach, posthumanism, has questioned these assumptions, asserting that being human is not a fixed state but one always dynamic and evolving. Restrictive boundaries are no longer in play, and we do not define who we are by delineating what we are not (animal, machine, monster). There is no one aspect that makes a being human—self-awareness, emotion, artistic expression, or problem-solving—since human characteristics reside in other species along with shared DNA. Instead, posthumanism looks at the ways our bodies, intelligence, and behavior connect and interact with the environment, technology, and other species. In Posthumanism in Young Adult Fiction: Finding Humanity in a Posthuman World, editors Anita Tarr and Donna R. White collect twelve essays that explore this new discipline''s relevance in young adult literature. Adolescents often tangle with many issues raised by posthumanist theory, such as body issues. The in-betweenness of adolescence makes stories for young adults ripe for posthumanist study. Contributors to the volume explore ideas of posthumanism, including democratization of power, body enhancements, hybridity, multiplicity/plurality, and the environment, by analyzing recent works for young adults, including award-winners like Paolo Bacigalupi''s Ship Breaker and Nancy Farmer''s The House of the Scorpion, as well as the works of Octavia Butler and China Miéville.