Because I am secure in my adult-ness, I will confess: I bought a book about statistics in comic form. Today it arrived. Yes it's for me, and yes I've been reading it (and it's pretty bomb, too), but as I was reading, a curious thing happened. I began thinking about the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. This year my cousins - 9 and 12 - will be there. I've been searching for suitable gifts, and I wondered: would this book be a good gift for their age? I wasn't sure.
To make this determination, I turned to the publisher's page. I wasn't sure exactly what I hoped to find, but I trusted the publisher to provide useful information of some kind. Maybe a 'recommended age,' I thought to myself. Then I froze. 'Recommended age'? On a book?
---
Everything today has more information available than anyone, ever, would care to read. Although we often get to pick and choose how much information to absorb at a given moment, sometimes the mere presence of this data abundance is too much. For instance, my mother hates eating at restaurants with menus showing calorie counts (If you've never encountered such a menu, count yourself lucky. The average meal is not improved by close inspection).
It can also be easy, however, to take this abundance of data for granted. When extra information becomes commonplace, it becomes expected. When information is omni-vailable, it's easy to get complacent. It's also easy to accept whatever's written as fact, guaranteed.
I see this complacency in my own life, as I saw tonight, inspecting my book for a 'recommended age.'
The beautiful thing about books now is that they are for everyone. It's true that earlier volumes were available only to the privileged, but the fungus of illiteracy today is not a common affliction. This means that men, women, children, people of all races and creeds and colors and beliefs all share the same right: to pick up any book within their reach and glean whatever information its pages might offer.
---
The curious incident tonight, my expectation of a 'recommended age' on the publisher's page, leaves me with a little chill. It seems like an easily overlooked incident. A simple lapse. But despite going against the boundless, ageless nature of a book in every way, when I consider it, the notion of a 'recommended age' doesn't seem so farfetched.
I can picture it becoming common practice to print a 'recommended age' on children's books. Justified at first as a way to help parents differentiate content.
Yet I hope society would rail at such a practice. May we always have educators, librarians, teachers, guiding adults and, if necessary, their institutions as well, to list and define in their own agendas what books are suitable for which ages. There is nothing wrong with the older generations recommending personally to the younger. The danger lies in printing this message in the book itself. The book is not a judge. It does not prohibit. It is a friend to all. It must only ever encourage its readers, asking only of them what they are willing to give.
For this reason, a book cannot recommend a reader away, neither by his age nor any other distinguishing feature. A book can be read by any reader who has both the luck and inclination to attempt the read.
---
Today I urge you to consider: what is the division between information made explicit and left implicit? How much should manufacturers recommend?
Or, alternatively, feel free to pick up a book. At least, I'd recommend it.