by Madeline L’Engle
First sentence: “The big kitchen of the Murrys’ house was bright and warm, curtains drawn against the dark outside, against the rain driving past the house from the northeast.”
I never much liked this one, even as a kid. And the only reason I can think of, now, is that it’s because Meg isn’t really a part of the story. Oh, she’s there: she’s older now, married to Calvin, and pregnant with her first child. But she’s not really an active part in the story. She spends the book lying on a bed kything with Charles Wallace, who, at age 15, is off on an adventure of his own.
And honestly his adventure — saving the world from certain destruction by Madog Branzillo — isn’t really that interesting. He rides through time with a unicorn/Pegasus creature named Gaudior, popping in and out of within other people. I’m sure it has a very nice and neat conclusion, where Madog is stopped (not that it was memorable enough to stay with me), but honestly, I gave up halfway through. Charles Wallace was never my favorite character; he was always a bit too precocious for my taste. It was Meg I liked, Meg that resonated with me. And a Meg that just lies around being worried for Charles Wallace is kind of boring. Even now — perhaps especially now — after I’m all grown up, living the life that Meg was starting out on.
I feel bad about it, though. Like I’m giving up on some part of my childhood. Perhaps some books just shouldn’t be reread?