Go the F--- to Sleep: Funny, or Violent Commentary on Society?

When SixSeeds put an article by Eric Metaxas called "When Did We Become So Crude?" in the Raindrop, a heated discussion broke out among our contributors.  The article criticized a book called -- forgive our language -- "Go the F--- to Sleep”  which looks like a kids' book but is really designed to be a cathartic read for sleepy moms and dads who are sick of the endless night time routines.

Please enjoy our Round Table Discussion, and let us know what you think! 

David French said ...

A Patheos' writer does NOT like a certain children's book:

"Go the F*** to Sleep" is being hailed as a cathartic children's book for parents. Beautifully illustrated and written in the same witty prose style as generations of beloved bedtime storybooks, this read has made a startling climb to the No. 1 spot on Amazon and as a New York Times Bestseller.

Who can explain it?

As the title suggests, "Go the F*** to Sleep" mocks the parental frustrations of trying to lay a child down to bed. Crass in concept and execution, this is an expletive-filled bedtime story intended solely for the amusement of parents.

Timothy Dalrymple said …

Eric Metaxas had a nice piece on that book, too (which seems to have been a riff, at least on part, on his book, Go to Sleep, My Love): 

Admittedly, his book is funny and cleverly done, but the idea that a #1 bestseller has the F-word in the title really does bother me. I'm almost flattered that this guy thought to parody my book -- even if he won't admit it -- but did he really need to use that word in the title?

Nathan Whitaker said …

I think that both Metaxas - which I read as an appeal for less vulgarity - and the other - which I read as a warning about the consequences of such intolerant thinking toward your child - are both on the right track.  

My main concern tracks somewhat the Patheos’ column.  Even if it doesn't lead to abuse, does it chip away at the relationship? Possibly. After reading that book, has the concept of "you're really not thirsty, you're lying, you're stalling,"** not been reinforced in the parent's mind?  That is, I'm often feeling short at bedtime, and my six-year old insists on stalling 9 times out of ten.  I find myself taking a deep breath and thinking through the only three logical explanations for her request:

1) She is trying to spend time with me;

2) She is afraid of the dark; or

3) She really is thirsty.

Since 1) is one of the best realizations of my day - when I stop to recognize it - and if 2) is true, she gets it from me, then both of those warrant a calm response.  Not anger or bitterness, stemming from a place of resentment and knowledge of "lying."  And what if the reality is 3)?  She just actually might be thirsty.  And how much more true if the child is less articulate - say 18 months, instead of 6 years?

One final thought:  When I was still single, a longtime, slightly older friend and role model, was sharing with me after he became a new father.  "I think child abuse is awful, of course, but after having a colicky infant, I can see how it can happen.  Tired, stressed, exhausted nerves, tried everything you can think of..."  I don't think I meant to file it away, but found his statement shocking enough that I did, of course.  And then, years later, when my first child was colicky, and I his statement became so clear and true, I clung to that idea that somebody else understood (besides my wife) and she and I became very intentional of taking turns when nerves got raw.  It probably wouldn't have mattered, but I'm glad my thought process didn't involve something so uncharitable toward her.  Better to softly sing "Edelweiss" as she screams in my arms, then the alternative.

**I haven't read the book - for the Metaxas reason - and so I'm relying on others to tell me the general content.

Nancy French said …

Though I think Eric overreaches in his assessment -- that it could possibly cause violence to kids? -  there's no doubt the F--- book is at least a slight rip off of his book (which we reviewed.) 

Rebecca Cusey said …

I love Metaxas and Zacharias, but I think they need to lighten up. I laughed and laughed at the book and even more at the Samuel L. Jackson recording of it. I remember desperate nights where I just wanted to sleep and my lil’ darling was wide -awake and perky, demanding my attention. The book pretty much sums up how the feeling of those late night hours of desperation and sleep deprivation. It’s like the recording in my head, something I would never say out loud to the child, but helped to think.

John Wunderli said …

Come on, Nathan, stick to your f***ing guns, man!  See what having such awesome and understanding parents has done to you?  It's made you overly agreeable.

I haven't read the book in question, but I find the concept and all excerpts I've seen pretty amusing, and that's from a guy who my kids have never heard utter a profanity.  So I'm with Rebecca on this one.  My feeling is the universe of people who would find this book amusing are those who (1) really care about and give attention to their kids (to the point of exhaustion), and (2) still find profanity shocking and provocative.  The book simply won't resonate with those who don't care about their kids or who are immune to vulgarity.

Nancy French said …

Nathan Whitaker said:

1) She is trying to spend time with me;

2) She is afraid of the dark; or

3) She really is thirsty.

Nathan, I generally agree that it is better to be less harsh than more harsh.  But what about a 4th option:

4.  She is really just stubborn, doesn't want to go to sleep, and wants to have her own way.

I'm in the midst of this with Naomi now, so I deal with this a great deal. Sometimes she just doesn't want to go to bed.

That doesn't mean you go into a profane rant.  But it's not a terrible thing to -- after reading that book -- have the concept of "you're really not thirsty, you're lying, you're stalling," reinforced in your mind?

Especially if that is true, which in our case is 9 out of 10 times.

Nathan Whitaker said …

Okay, uncle.  I quit.  Well, maybe not, because words matter.

Ellie Kate does the same thing all the time as Naomi.  Sometimes I'm willing to snuggle, but often I don't have the time or energy to do so. And she needs to do what she's told and not come down the stairs after she's been told to stay in bed. My response wasn't designed to put the child in charge, but rather to say that I don't appreciate the sentiment or the language.  (For me, much of your option 4 falls under option 3, born out of a desire to be with us, not necessarily to be contrarian.  Either way, however, Ellie - and presumably Naomi - needs to do what she's told.  I agree.)

Words matter.  Maybe I'm too PC in that, and one can argue that neither Michael Richards nor his audience were going to go out and act on his racist rant, but the response of "lighten up" doesn't work for me. (I know that's a stretch, but that's where "lighten up" and "nobody's going to act on it, it's only in our heads" takes me.)

How we express ourselves matter.  "Some people have a way with words, and some people, well, not have way," as Steve Martin said. To Metaxas' point, we don't need to take our collective vocabulary to the lowest common denominator.

In Jacksonville (and presumably many other locales, but my data came from an Assistant State Attorney), child and spouse abuse calls triple on every Sunday evening in which the Jaguars lose.  To Zacharias' point, in a world in which child abuse happens ALL the frickin' time, we don't need to "reinforce" that children are simply little liars to which the response (even in our minds) is "go ________ to sleep."

Give me Metaxas' book.  The other can rot in H***.

Timothy Dalrymple said …

I'm persuaded by Nathan's argument.  While the book brought some laughs for me, and Samuel L. Jackson's reading brought a lot of laughs, I do see reason for concern about (1) coarsening public discourse - there was a moving on last night while I was working, Going the Distance, and it's just shocking how crude the movie-conversation is now, from male and female characters alike (or witness the current Bad Teacher) and about (2) degrading just a little further, even a millimeter, the moral and cultural barriers that prevent child abuse.

This shouldn't sound self-righteous, because I get furious with Sophia on just about a daily basis, and frequently fail to speak as I ought.  But rather than another product of culture that encourages us to see our children as a bunch of lying schemers, I'd rather hear a perspective like Nathan's that reminds me how precious it is (and how fleeting) that my child actually wants to spend as much time with me as possible, and actually finds my presence so comforting.

In fact, this conversation made me want to write about this in more detail here.  "Christian Curmudgeon Condemns Go The F*** to Sleep."

Nathan Whitaker said …

Ha!  I persuaded The Big-Brained One...

John Wunderli said …

I'm still in Rebecca's camp.  I think this is just good adult satire.  Yes, words matter, but I don't see satire operating on the same plane as a racist rant.  Actual angry and hateful words will have a direct appeal to angry and hateful people, and it's not a stretch to draw a straight line between people saying angry and hateful things and angry and hateful people acting on those words and ideas.  But that's not what this book is.  And it's appeal is not to the angry and hateful.  It's appeal is to people who have had a common experience and appreciate a little light-hearted satire about it.  But, then again, I haven't actually read the book.

For the record, I haven't spanked or cursed at my kids.  I have, however, used a strong grip on the arm and stern (but non-profane) language.

Rebecca Cusey said …

Satire. Exactly.

And the writer is being a good parent, trying to be responsive to the child’s needs. An abusive book would be "I can't hear you scream while I watch Ghost Hunters and Drink Jack Daniels in the Living Room because I have the Volume up So High" or "Change Your Own Damn Diaper."

The nights my own darlings kept me up, often cumulative successive nights, I would think "You've got to be kidding me. This is insane." But I think that was only because my education was neglected and I never really learned to swear properly. Otherwise, I'm sure my interior monologue would have been saying "Go the F*&% to Sleep."

The Christian Conservative version of this book would be "God Ordained us as your Parents and Therefore it is Our Duty to Instill In You a Respect for Authority by Insisting You Sleep In Your Crib Even Though We are About to Burst into Tears With Exhaustion and Sob Ourselves to Sleep in the Bathtub With a Pillow Over Our Ears." But that's not as catchy.

Rebecca Cusey said …

Furthermore, I know lots of excellent parents who express themselves with profanity. They try to keep it from the kids, but it's part of certain cultures. Still great parents. 

When, exactly, was this uncoarse period to which people long to return? Because my WWII grandfather used to swear like an eighteenth century sailor. In turn, I'm sure those sailors swore like medieval knights, all the way back to Adam telling Seth not to harvest so many of those *&$)##$ thorns and get a little $*#(*&*$ grain along with them.

Jean Kingston said …

I think the book is hilarious. It says exactly what we're all thinking when our darling looking children are acting like little brats. Nathan's take "that our little ones just want to spend more time with us" sure is sweet and maybe thats how things go in the Whitaker household.  However, here at the Kingston's, the reason the kids want to stay up is usually because there's some big game on!! 

I wouldn't want the kids to see the book, but I get it's appeal and I think it's written for people like us -- ones who have thought "I wanna throw this kid out the window" but never would. I don't think a book like this negates the precious feeling I have for my children. 

There's sin everywhere - our children are sinful and disobedient and we have sinful thoughts toward them and this book points it all out -- I believe in a funny way! 

I'm on Team Cusey/Wunderli. 

John Wunderli said …

By the way, I like the fact that I'm standing with the mothers on this issue in favor of a profane children's book against the fathers who are trying to save the children.  

My wife, by the way, swears like a sailor in front of the kids.  OK, it's not that bad, but she's been known to let a range of words (not including the f-word) fly.  Reminds me of a great exchange I had with my oldest daughter, Rachel, when we saw a video tape of her in the car with some of her friends and discovered she had a little bit of a potty mouth.  After forcing her to watch the video with us, I explained the difference between mom swearing and her swearing.  I told her that if you are going to swear like a soldier, you better darn well be a soldier, and your mother has earned the right to say "sh*t" a few times.  Until you work as hard as she's worked over the years to raise you kids, you're just a wannabe poser with all that cursing.  Rachel appreciated that lecture.

Timothy Dalrymple  said …

I get satire.  I thought the book was funny, and I don't want to be the dour Christian curmudgeon.  I've wanted to throw Sophia out the window more times than I can count.  

That said, I think the assumptions I'm hearing regarding the audience for this book are overly optimistic.  It's going really viral and getting audiences of all kinds, not just the enlightened literati like ourselves.  I also think we're underestimating how wafer-thin is the boundary preventing some parents from abusive behavior. That boundary is very thick for some, because it's been reinforced all their lives by their morality, their faith, their community.  For others it's thin and fragile already, and breaks down on a regular basis.

I also keep hearing this verse in my head about "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure...think on such things."  I know I must be coming across as a total killjoy prude here, but I don't know if imagining speaking in these ways to our children is going to be more helpful or harmful.

Rebecca Cusey said …

If you listen to the Samuel L Jackson reading (below -- warning language, obviously!), you'll know the contents.

My memory (I couldn't listen today as I was incessantly surrounded by children. When does school start?) is that the parent is harder on himself than the child.

Timothy Dalrymple said …

You can find the narration from Samuel L. Jackson here.  

Nathan Whitaker said …

I somehow doubt that your Grandfather would have thought that front and center on a display as he walks into a bookstore would be the appropriate place for it, but maybe so.  That's where I think we've gone off the rails.  Whatever.  This is tiresome - I usually like being the "I can't believe that some people are prudish" guy and argue for edginess.  After all, I took classes from Stan Hauerwas at Duke Divinity School in college.  Others would go complain when he'd drop GD in class, but not me.  I was too busy showing that I could be a cool Christian, too, by being hip with his language.

And I get the satire part, but I don't think that reading page after page of how my kids deserve my anger - because they're lying, manipulative little whatevers - would be helpful to have floating around in my brain the next time that my children disobey.  But again, I haven't read it.  Maybe that's not the thrust.  Maybe it's to help me appreciate my children.

Rebecca Cusey said …

You're somewhat right about my grandfather. Swearing was for men, intense swearing was for when women were absent, women were supposed to giggle and titter at the men, and it certainly didn't belong on a book display.

Timothy Dalrymple said …

Folks, 

I've been thinking about this today, and I wonder if some of the difference in our responses comes from the ways in which we hear and experience foul language.  So, ignore for a moment that the author says "A hot crimson rage fills my heart," and just hear the following phrases: 

"Shut the f***up and sleep!" 

"F*** your stuffed bear, I'm not giving you sh*t! Close your eyes, cut the crap, sleep!"  

Do you hear a tinge of implied violence there?  Of menace?  I'm sure a part of it comes from the tone of voice you imagine (and I don't know how it's punctuated in the book).  I'm guessing another part comes from the language you use, and people use around you.  When language like that is used in your environment, does it carry an implied threat of violence? Or is it just the way people talk?  

Maybe I've spent too much time in testosterone-fueled environments where those kinds of words do have an implied threat of violence. Maybe Nathan has, too. Regardless, it does open up an interesting line of inquiry into the how laden crude language is with cultural baggage.  

Nathan Whitaker said …

Unable to keep Ellie in her bed. Rethinking my position.

Below is Samuel L. Jackson reading this controversial book.  If you are offended by the F Word, please do not click. However, we thought it might provide helpful context to the above conversation.  What do you think?