I was supposed to read this two months ago for my sister’s online book club but I didn’t get to it (for a number of reasons). I’ve got some time right now and I needed to take a break from Russell Kirkpatrick’s In the Earth Abides the Flame.
I’m not one of those people who remembers every last thing from childhood. I remember the highlights mostly and this book is one of the highlights. I remember being five, my sister was three, and being tucked under these bright coverlets that were a tropical floral pattern on one side and orange plush on the other while my mom read us pages from The Hobbit before bedtime. Only one other book stands out from that time (Jean Conder Soule’s Never Tease a Weasel) but this book made a lifelong impression that has informed my reading choices throughout my lifetime. Every story I truly enjoy has to have some element of the fantastical about it. If it doesn’t, it usually doesn’t satisfy.
So, I’m going back to my roots and reading this literary classic again. Happy hump day… the weekend is actively beckoning now. 🙂