Join Lyndon Riggall has he reflects on the life and ongoing times of the Wimpy Kid to consider how and why Jeff Kinney's indelible characters have stood the test of time.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the privilege of witnessing a live stream of the Sydney Writers’ Festival children's event celebrating the launch of Jeff Kinney's latest book in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series: Hot Mess. The nineteenth book in the series, (with a twentieth, Party Pooper, on the way before the end of the year), Hot Mess is a story about food and family vacation. To celebrate its launch, Kinney visited Australia to present “The Hot Mess Show”, a wonderfully dynamic session in which parents and children were brought on stage and asked to prepare food in team-based challenges, play games that tested their memory or problem solving skills, and even reveal disgusting secrets about their own eating habits. It was a hugely entertaining presentation, and Kinney stood delighted in the centre of it all, seeming for all purposes like someone who was just a simple observer to the chaos around him, but nevertheless revealing a sneaky twinkle in his eye that made it clear that he was also undoubtedly the mastermind behind this funfair of chaos.
As it passes its eighteenth birthday (fittingly, April 1st), the meteoric rise of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series is worth paying attention to. Even before it had been published in Australia, I can remember our own king of cheeky children’s comedy, Andy Griffiths, telling me that he had read the book and loved it, predicting that it was one to keep an eye on. He wasn’t wrong. Alongside hundreds of millions of copies sold, the series has spawned an enormously popular live-action movie franchise, a complimentary animated movie franchise, video game spin-offs, and even a stage musical, while phrases like “Zoo-Wee Mama!” and “The Cheese Touch” have become part of the standard vocabulary of teenagers, even now.
Following Kinney's session, I decided to visit my local library and pick up a copy to remind myself of what I first read some eighteen years ago. Before diving back in, as I researched the series online, I was very aware of significant pushback from some readers in online communities, who felt that Greg Heffley's character was sarcastic, cruel, and too pessimistic about the world around him. Upon initial reading, there is some validity to their arguments. In the opening pages, as he explains why he has started his diary in the first place, Greg declares, "The only reason I agreed to do this at all is because I figure later on when I'm rich and famous, I'll have better things to do than answer people's stupid questions all day long. So this book is gonna come in handy." Still, beneath the savagery of his perspectives on the world around him, Greg's own admission and understanding of his role as the titular “wimpy kid” leads to something greater and more resonant. As I consider my own recent transition from senior secondary teaching to the middle school years, I can recognise in Greg's experiences so many of the moments, memories and intense feelings that characterise the experiences of my students as they settle into the early years of high school. Greg is by no means a perfect young man, and his outrageous adventures alongside his best friend Rowley, his brother Rodrick, and all of the other colourful characters that populate his world, probably shouldn't be taken as an instruction manual for how other young people should live their lives. Still, there is a realness to the series that has to be admired. There is a stylish honesty to the way that the stories are presented, complemented by the charming aesthetic of the illustrations (which Kinney took the time to explain and unpack in a fascinating way when he discussed his process in his Sydney Writers' Festival session). Most of all—even for this thirty-five year-old man, who found himself giggling late at night as he tucked himself in with the first novel earlier in the week—there is still something brilliant and timeless that can be found in the very simple and powerful humour of the series, which reminds all of us that our high school experiences are not unique, and that we are not alone in our teenage years when we suddenly find ourselves feeling like aliens on our own planet.
When I picked up my hold of Diary of a Wimpy Kid from the Longford Library on my way home from work earlier this week, as I passed it over to the librarian for processing, she smiled.
“Oh, Diary of a Wimpy Kid!” she said.
“Yes,” I answered. “It’s been a while, but I thought it might be time to go back and take another look.”
“Oh, it’s for you!” she grinned, probably not used to checking out such a book to someone who can reach the whole way over the counter.
As she scanned the book and printed my receipt, tucking it inside the cover, she passed it over to me with warmth and joy.
“I will always be grateful to that man,” she said, gesturing to Kinney’s name on the cover. “He made my son a reader.”
Perhaps when it all comes down to it, that's what really matters most. Twenty books in, here’s hoping that we haven't quite reached the end just yet.
My enormous congratulations and respect to Jeff Kinney, Greg Heffley, and all the other Wimpy Kids and Wimpy Kid fans out there.
Long may they reign.
Lyndon Riggall is a writer and teacher from Launceston, Tasmania. He is the author of the picture books Becoming Ellie (illustrated by Graham Whittle) and Tamar the Thief (illustrated by Grace Roberts). Alongside Georgie Todman, he is co-president of the Tamar Valley Writers Festival. You can find him on social media @lyndonriggall and at his website http://www.lyndonrigall.com.
