The 'danger narrative' in kidlit[:] is that all we have to offer?
As Tonto says in the punchline of that old joke, "What to you mean 'We,' paleface?"
Now that J.K. Rowling has nicely sidestepped the pitchfork- and torch-bearing Social Media Cancel Mob, one can again concentrate on her works.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone works just as well now as when it was published in 1997. Harry deals with plenty of casual domestic cruelty, suffers a good bit of bullying, at home and at Hogwarts, and faces dire peril from fantastic creatures and evil wizards. Yet no-one can dismiss HP as a "danger narrative," because the dangers--ordinary and extraordinary--are necessarily expositional and transformative.
Without the danger, there
is no narrative.
Modern tales no longer show the violent, often fatal consequences of failing to learn what's what and adopting proper adult-ish behavior. But larnin' kids that life ain't all about playing it safe is still vitally important. Harry Potter's major character arc is that of developing courage: facing down one's fears and persisting in the face of mortal peril.
As Tolkien correctly asserts in
On Fairy Stories, the unique advantage of fantasy is that the reader can
safely learn lessons in fairyland that may then beneficially be applied in the real world. Those who insist that all children's stories must be grounded in (perhaps) grim but danger-free reality miss that important truth, and fail to acknowledge that nobody would
really choose to live in fairyland, even if it existed.