My reading life began with a picture book called
The Littlest Rabbit. I would solemnly quote the first page, “Everybody is bigger than I am,” entertaining my family by (unknowingly) speaking the truth about my place in the big, wide world.
That world placed limitations on what I could do and where I could go, but the book world — my world — was simultaneously about discovery and adventure, safety and familiarity, a place I could set the rules and make the boundaries, carry the flashlight and lead the way. My book world was a place I could revisit as often as I wanted, relaxing in the steadiness of treasured words and friends.
In that place I encountered Little Bear and his birthday soup, Timmy Tiptoes and his terrifying entrapment in a tree, and Pooh and Piglet singing through a snowstorm (tiddley pom). I devoured books about Aslan, that lion who wasn’t safe but good, and Laura, a girl who lived so very long ago bears and panthers lived outside her door, and a penny in her Christmas stocking was worth celebrating. There was Ramona (a girl who said exactly what she thought, bravely doing the things I didn’t dare try on my own), Nancy Drew, and the boy wonder, Leroy Brown, who figured out the most puzzling mysteries and put the world to rights. There was Anne Shirley, who imagined and dreamed and long for puffed sleeves. And Arriety, with her Borrowed name and cigar box bed.
I loved Charlie, with his hard-won golden ticket in hand; Taran, the pig boy turned hero; and Edmund Dantes, the innocent imprisoned in the Chateau D’If. Doctor Doolittle and Scarlett O’Hara. Guy Montag and Mary Poppins.
I learned about the Holocaust while reading
When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, about the middle ages while reading
Katherine, and the French Revolution while reading
Desiree. I learned about heartache alongside Jody when he lost his beloved Flag. (Rereading
The Yearling as an adult, I ached in a new way — as a parent watching a child face hardship for the first time). I learned compassion reading
Follow My Leader and
Mine For Keeps.
“I am a part of everything that I have read,” John Kieran said, and my life echoes this truth, for who I am is richer, broader, and kinder because of my book world and the characters who’ve met me there.
What books have shaped your Book World?
All of the above, plus Daddy Long Legs and the Pern books, to name a few! I, like Matilda, credit books for raising me. ;)
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh! How did I manage to leave out Daddy Long Legs?? Have you red Dear Enemy, too?
DeleteSince I grew up in a small town in Iowa, any book set in an exotic place (New York City!) added to my world. I loved From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. And in A Wrinkle in Time, I met the first character that seemed a little like me. Finding Meg was like finding an extra friend.
ReplyDeleteIsn't it amazing the places books will take us? And to meet a book friend who feels like a true friend is everything. If Francie Nolan were a real girl, I know we would have been fast friends.
DeleteLove this post! So many book friends and memories! I have no doubt that my love of the family unit, love for my sisters, and longing for strong bonds for my own family comes from reading books like the All-of-a-Kind Family, The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, Boxcar Children, Little Women, and countless others. Some pages were beautifully idealistic while others taught me the blessed emotional relief/honesty that comes with conflict and a good family fight :)
ReplyDeleteYes to all of these! I reread the first All-of-a-Kind with an after-school book club a few years ago and was transported back to elementary school. The Boxcar Children is still one of those sacred books for me. I LIVED in it, you know?
DeleteAuthor/editor Wendy McClure has a book called Wanderville coming out in the spring that definitely has a Boxcar vibe. Check it out!
Everything started for me with The Hobbit. My dad used to read it aloud to my sisters and I. We would all climb into mom and dad's giant bed, well, all of us except mom, and he would read to us for hours. Then it was Lord of the Rings, the The Wind in the Willows and Watership Down.
ReplyDeleteOnce I started reading on my own, I'm sure I started with something easier, but what I remember most vividly is Roald Dahl. Danny, Champion of the World was my all time favorite, but everything the man ever wrote was basically a golden ticket.
Have I ever told you I named my dog Bilbo Baggins??
DeleteNo. That's a great name for a pup, though!
DeleteThe Boxcar Children is the first book I remember getting happily swept away in. I'll have to check out Wanderville.
ReplyDeleteYes, please do!
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