The Corner

Books, Arts & Manners

Better Abridged Than Dusty

Our incomparable Sarah Schutte published a piece over the weekend that makes the case for keeping abridgment editors’ knives well away from the classics.

She writes:

It is my firm and unyielding opinion that abridged books are a detriment to society. We have this strange idea that books must be dumbed down in order for children to enjoy and understand them. Frankly, this is insulting to both the child and the author, and harmful to the literary world and the child’s mind. There are numerous reasons why abridged books should be avoided, but for now, I humbly submit three for your consideration: They diminish a child’s vocabulary, they turn reading into a box-checking activity, and they rob children of a story’s full delight.

In a perfect world, I agree. That said, ours is a fallen world with Nintendo Switches, TikTok, and pinko comic books littering the arena of children’s entertainment and I’m willing to make some concessions in an effort to develop kids’ attention spans and tastes in entertainment. There’s a scene in The Boondocks where Uncle Ruckus is holding up a Bible in front of a possessed man’s face and shouting, “Read, [my good man]! Read!” and that’s pretty much a synopsis of my approach to prose-lytization.

Consider also that the books kids now read in school are curated for maximal cultural compatibility. The Count of Monte Cristo is going to be an alien read even in abridged form, given the absence of the Western Canon in public schools. Talking with my niece (fourth-grader) while writing this, I learned that she’s the only one in her friend group who reads for fun. We’re fighting for our lives out here.


The goal will forever be to get young (and old) readers to engage with the full thought and flavor of an author’s genius, but we have to offer intermediate stops along the way.

Luther Ray Abel is an Associate Editor for National Review. A veteran of the U.S. Navy, Luther is a proud native of Sheboygan, Wis.
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