Somehow, people of all ages can be drawn to the fascinating stories of adolescence. No matter how unrelated they are to our lives, we find a way to live our own stories through the characters in a novel or on TV. These are a part of a genre called coming-of-age, addictive for the role teenage years have on our lives. They highlight ideas like locking up your identity, your fears, and opinions, an unfortunate reality for adolescents in the 21st century, as it was for those of the past. The media, both modern and classical, reflects this by showing that adolescence didn’t change all that much over time, and that society still expects us to dismiss our problems. Coming-of-age stories give us the feeling of being understood and heard – which is why we need them.
Coming-of-age novels bridge childhood and adulthood. The treasured experience of relying on this kind of media as a coping mechanism during struggle is one every teenager should have. My first introduction to this genre was through a voracious obsession with Harry Potter and his misfit company, around the age of six. There was something magical about joining these young wizards as they learn to defeat evil and made mistakes in both friendship and magic. What touched me the most, though, was Harry’s struggle to grow up and accept his identity as a wizard and the chosen one. Certainly, this concept of finding and accepting oneself is as important to 21st-century teenagers as it was to teenagers of earlier ages. Though social media and academic pressures weren’t so prominent back then, we shared the same tumultuous adolescent period. There is a reason that, as impressionable youth, we look at Holden Caulfield in “The Catcher in the Rye” and justify his actions, while most adults would disapprove of his escapades in New York City. Adults often read coming-of-age stories to reminisce, yet they scrutinize how they acted in their adolescence. For teenagers, the genre clarifies the idea that everything will be resolved one day, that the choices we make now will be the right ones. Younger children look up at these stories and revel in how grown-up they will be one day, admiring, watching, and wondering.
However, modern coming-of-age books do something much more complex than just retelling tropes of close friendships and resisting parental authority. In fact, some of the most potent stories involve showing how young adults learn how to respond in the face of issues like mental health, sexism, and socio-economic barriers. As with “The Catcher in the Rye,” we notice that the main character holds misogynistic and retrograde views on women, often seeing them as objects. While in some ways, his mental health struggles are relatable, it’s also hard to identify with a character with such opinions. Modern media emphasizes how such toxic views can affect a person instead, a mindset geared towards the diverse world we live in today. Such storytelling helps teens develop emotional intelligence while also acknowledging the differences that each person has during their adolescence. On the same tone, however, we must acknowledge the failures of modern media, ascertain tropes can emphasize the wrong ideas.
When asked if I enjoyed reading books by an acquaintance about a year ago, I replied with an enthusiastic “yes.” What I didn’t say “yes” to, however, was hearing her go on about an unrealistic love triangle that the current “young adult” novel she was fixated on had. As she went on, I nodded, yet I was confused as to why this was her key takeaway from the book, which was marketed in the fantasy genre. Though romance was a subplot to a story about learning to control psychic powers at a special school, the main characters growing up seemed to be fixated on the idea that as they got older (fourteen, to be exact), romance was inevitable. In a rush to get along with her, I took up her recommendations, and was quite surprised at the toxic tropes present throughout them. The idea that falling in love with someone can immediately heal your mental health, or that a lack of communication should be normalized, frustrated me when reading. I had never experienced this in the books I loved, and though I knew I had a more niche taste in literature, I hadn’t expected such romanticization of harmful plot points in popular works. In all of these novels, there is an ever-present idea that characters act far beyond their age, with their attitudes to romance and familial relations. These narratives want us to take the step into adulthood, to worry about our future excessively, and avoid mistakes, ideas that are already promoted in social media. This shift, when the media is a critical factor in adolescent development, is detrimental to the thoughts of young people.
Though I have my complaints with the ways in which the coming-of-age genre has changed, it is not to say we cannot indulge in unrealistic plots or whimsical ideas of what we could be. Instead, the young adult genre should be saturated with a variety of media, rather than being skewed towards unhealthy dynamics. The stories give meaning to our social awkwardness and identity exploration, encouraging us to speak up instead of keeping to ourselves. In truth, it is the powerful, omniscient media that shapes our views. We alone should decide when we step into adulthood, for it is not the media’s place to pull our formative years away from us.
