Sooooo. I read A Wrinkle in Time for the first time the other night because it was so hot I couldn’t sleep, and 
justbeast
As often happens when I read a book that I mostly found good but had some big issues with, I want to talk to someone about it. But this is not just a classic, it is a Beloved Classic, and while we can give Narnia and the Problem of Susan the stinkeye and admit that LOTR is kind of hinky on the all kinds of scores, some books seem to be Beyond Criticism. You don’t go taking your red pen to The Phantom Tollbooth. You just don’t. It’s not nice. And everyone loved this book as a child. The shock that went up on my Twitter feed when I said it was my first read was intense. My friends get this soft, dreamy look on their faces when I mention Charles Wallace.
And yet, why didn’t I read it? I obviously own it. (The whole series, though I’ve only read the first one so far.) I’ve obviously heard of it and been vouched for its quality. Though when I think about it I seem to remember other people saying: yeah, I loved it, but you should not read it. You wouldn’t like it. You would have Issues. And so I didn’t. But now I have. And I want to talk about it! But you can’t talk about the stuff we loved as a kid in a critical way. (Not that everyone hasn’t gotten Cool Points from shitting all over LOTR, my beloved adolescent books, in the last several years.) And I didn’t not like it. Some of it just bothered me, as an adult reader in the 2010s, rather than a child in the sixties or seventies, for whom I suspect this was as revelatory as a book could get. So, I am going to talk about A Wrinkle in Time, and I beg you not to get too angry or comment with the popular refrain: yeah that’s true but I loved it anyway. I know you did. Everyone did. You should keep loving it, for it is loveable. And we all want an Aunt Beast. (And a mother like Mrs. Murry.)
It really is highly readable–I peeled through in one night–and full of endearing characters. I can see why this book matters to people so much–firstly, best family ever. I mean, it’s like the opposite of Harry Potter (or I suppose it’s really the Weasleys, down to the red hair) and other orphan narratives where the protagonist clearly Does Not Belong. Meg is so utterly a product of her family, she belongs there, and is loved for who she is. Bookishness and geekiness are good and encouraged Murry traits. Mom is an awesome scientist, and so is Dad. Sporty brothers are viewed with slight suspicion. It’s the family we all want to be in, and few of us are.
But…despite Mom being a scientist, she stays home and takes care of the kids while Dad has adventures. She is perfect and beautiful, (uncomfortably, Calvin’s mother is expicitly not beautiful, and this is kind of a shorthand for her not being as Good as a Murry–though good heavens, a woman who has had seven children and lost all her teeth might have reason to be cranky) but domestic, cooking beneficently for her family while doing her experiments. She is not employed by the government; she is not even allowed to be involved in the rescue of her husband for no defined reason. (I mean, really, she knows him better than any of her kids, all of whom were tiny when he disappeared. Why can’t she go? Dad can be a Player.) I know in 1962 this must have been super-advanced, female-role wise, but now it feels discomfiting. I recognize that I react incredibly poorly to the "woman who stays at home being awesome and carrying on while her husband is away" trope for obvious personal reasons (I basically won’t even read The Time Traveler’s Wife. This is a thing which triggers me, and I don’t use that word lightly.) It’s especially squirmy when considered alongside the issue of Meg.
I suspect everyone loves Meg. Identifies with her, because she is an outcast in school, and even in her own family feels different, all the while she is assured she isn’t. (She is though, as we’ll see. She’s the only one, essentially, without superpowers.) We love that type–especially when they only think they are not smart, while actually being pretty great. (I can’t recite the periodic table, yo.) But here’s the thing: everyone in this book is special but Meg. Even Calvin, who really is just some rando Charles Wallace ran into, even Calvin has a special gift and is destined to be wonderful, destined to be part of the family and obviously Meg’s future husband. Calvin’s gift is communication with the alien, Charles Wallace is clearly Jesus or something (having looked up the wiki it would seem we never actually find out why Charles is special, nor what happens to him, which is MADDENING), so incredibly marvelous and perfect that he must be protected at all costs. Meg’s gift is…being difficult and kind of pissy. And loving her (male) brother. All the men are endowed and stalwart and gifted with particular talents. Meg’s talent is an especially female one–loving her male relatives and…well, I got very tired of how many times she "wailed" "cried" or "stamped her foot." This is very infantilizing language, removing her feeling from anger or passion into the realm of tantrum. Charles Wallace is always described in adult terms, though he is five. Meg in childish terms though she is at least 14 (in high school).
Again, I’m sure back in the day having a girl as the lead at all was amazing–but Meg is not the hero of her own story. She is a Girl Having Adventures, yes, but those adventures are all about other people, she is never the point or the mover, and everyone around her is a Male of Import. More import than Meg, always, more power, more agency, more options. It was painful to me to see her so infantilized and sidelined, down to essentially fainting for a whole chapter because she’s not as good at traveling as the men–even Calvin! Who has no reason to be naturally awesome at anything the Murrys are! Calvin bothered me, as you can see. He gets very little development for how central he is to the plot, and is introduced so suddenly and is so great at being a Murry he makes Strider look like a subtle debut.
In structural terms, the book felt very rushed at the end, and I found myself gaping at (spoilers) IT’s revelation as a giant brain. Really? That’s IT? It’s become so cliche now to have a giant floating brain that I can’t see it as scary or even interesting–plus the word IT makes me think of King’s novel, and amps my expectations. I felt a whiff of anti-communist preaching in Camazotz, and wanted, really, a whole lot more to happen in those sequences. We get pages of Charles falling under the influence, but very little else. I loved Aunt Beast of course, and wanted more there too. Every single piece of the book was so interesting, but I never got enough of any of it, or enough specificity. Maybe that’s elsewhere in the series, explaining what is going on with everything.
And the God stuff…eek. Narnia was subtle, comparatively. Angels and Jesus and God, God, God.
But for all that it is incredibly compelling–like Babylon 5 it seems to be more than the sum of its parts. The gender stuff is as ever hard for me to let go of (even the Mrs. W’s are genderless in their true forms, not really women) even if they and the structural irritations are perhaps products of their time. It was lovely to see a portal science fiction tale, the tropes of portal fantasies transferred over to science fiction. Some of the passages, most particularly Aunt Beast and the Mrs W bits, were just charming. And I am still quite seriously considering naming my incoming boy-kitty (at some point soonish from darling Betsy) Charles Wallace. (Arrrg, how could MLE leave us not knowing what and where he is? I swear here and now never to do that ever.)
And yet. And yet.
Some childhood novels one can read as an adult and find wonder there. And some are hard to read as one might have when one could just black out the bits that bothered. I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling "But…"
PS Feel free to spoil future books for me in the comments–spoilers don’t really ruin books for me, and I’m undecided on whether to read them. Also, I said I looked up the wiki. 
Psst.
I missed it too.
You do not not ride alone.
Psst.
I missed it too.
You do not not ride alone.
Psst.
I missed it too.
You do not not ride alone.
Psst.
I missed it too.
You do not not ride alone.
Psst.
I missed it too.
You do not not ride alone.
Understandable reservations
I think it is fine and good to take stock of the classics and balance their strengths against their limitations. If we didn’t constantly re-evaluate the past, we would have never re-discovered Bach and Shakespeare.
If A Wrinkle in Time fades away, I’m sure that we will find worthy replacements now and in the future.
Understandable reservations
I think it is fine and good to take stock of the classics and balance their strengths against their limitations. If we didn’t constantly re-evaluate the past, we would have never re-discovered Bach and Shakespeare.
If A Wrinkle in Time fades away, I’m sure that we will find worthy replacements now and in the future.
Understandable reservations
I think it is fine and good to take stock of the classics and balance their strengths against their limitations. If we didn’t constantly re-evaluate the past, we would have never re-discovered Bach and Shakespeare.
If A Wrinkle in Time fades away, I’m sure that we will find worthy replacements now and in the future.
Understandable reservations
I think it is fine and good to take stock of the classics and balance their strengths against their limitations. If we didn’t constantly re-evaluate the past, we would have never re-discovered Bach and Shakespeare.
If A Wrinkle in Time fades away, I’m sure that we will find worthy replacements now and in the future.
Understandable reservations
I think it is fine and good to take stock of the classics and balance their strengths against their limitations. If we didn’t constantly re-evaluate the past, we would have never re-discovered Bach and Shakespeare.
If A Wrinkle in Time fades away, I’m sure that we will find worthy replacements now and in the future.
Spoiler for future books?
Are you planning on reading the rest of the books in the series? We wouldn’t want to spoil them for you.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
Feel free. Spoilers don’t ruin books for me.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
You will find out more about Calvin’s mother in book 3.
Spoiler for future books?
Are you planning on reading the rest of the books in the series? We wouldn’t want to spoil them for you.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
Feel free. Spoilers don’t ruin books for me.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
You will find out more about Calvin’s mother in book 3.
Spoiler for future books?
Are you planning on reading the rest of the books in the series? We wouldn’t want to spoil them for you.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
Feel free. Spoilers don’t ruin books for me.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
You will find out more about Calvin’s mother in book 3.
Spoiler for future books?
Are you planning on reading the rest of the books in the series? We wouldn’t want to spoil them for you.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
Feel free. Spoilers don’t ruin books for me.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
You will find out more about Calvin’s mother in book 3.
Spoiler for future books?
Are you planning on reading the rest of the books in the series? We wouldn’t want to spoil them for you.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
Feel free. Spoilers don’t ruin books for me.
Re: Spoiler for future books?
You will find out more about Calvin’s mother in book 3.
Dude. You are not the only one who Meg drove nuts. I read these as a child. I loved them. BUT. Meg drove me nuts. I read for Charles Wallace. And I hated that we never found out why he was truly special. You are not alone.
As a result, as much as I enjoyed the books as a kid, I didn’t re-read them as compulsively as I re-read my Edgar Rice Burroughs (and boy do you want gender fail there, yo! LOL) because Dejah Thoris may have been a stereotypical lady, but damn it, she’d knife you if you got uppity.
So, no, don’t feel bad for having issues with it. I find it hard to read a lot of kid lit now as an adult. It’s why I love Fairyland so fucking much. So go to.
What else do you want to talk about with the book? *gets coffee*
Yeah, I mean, if you say a character is ZOMGSPESHUL every five words, you have to fire that gun eventually.
*grin* I see you’ve read your Chekov.
YES. Don’t effin’ tell me forever how awesomesauce he is. SHOW ME. I wanna know. I’m here for the ride after all, aren’t I? And as a very precocious child who was always treated as an adult (seriously, I totally identified with CW), I really really wanted that payoff.
And never got it.
It’s why I never picked up her other series. I wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to leave me hanging.
His specialness has to do with his ability to “kythe” which is to be able to meld with someone else in their thoughts and emotions. You find this out by reading the other books.
I adore Tarzan. I wanted to be Just Like Him When I Gr[e]w Up when I was in grade five.
But, yeah. Gender!fail, among other fails, like WOAH. O.O
HA! Me too! Jane? Jane who? Talk to animals? Rule the jungle? HELL YES. LOL
Right there with you on the ERB love. And hey, how often WILL the princess knife someone? I loved that all the women carried weapons and could fight.
Yeah, exactly. So for me, because now I know as an adult I have this thing for competence porn, Meg drove me crazy because okay, fine, you’re an outcast. That doesn’t mean you can’t be competent at more then just having a big heart.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the love conquering all. But I like there to be a little bit more there in my female protags.
Dude. You are not the only one who Meg drove nuts. I read these as a child. I loved them. BUT. Meg drove me nuts. I read for Charles Wallace. And I hated that we never found out why he was truly special. You are not alone.
As a result, as much as I enjoyed the books as a kid, I didn’t re-read them as compulsively as I re-read my Edgar Rice Burroughs (and boy do you want gender fail there, yo! LOL) because Dejah Thoris may have been a stereotypical lady, but damn it, she’d knife you if you got uppity.
So, no, don’t feel bad for having issues with it. I find it hard to read a lot of kid lit now as an adult. It’s why I love Fairyland so fucking much. So go to.
What else do you want to talk about with the book? *gets coffee*
Yeah, I mean, if you say a character is ZOMGSPESHUL every five words, you have to fire that gun eventually.
*grin* I see you’ve read your Chekov.
YES. Don’t effin’ tell me forever how awesomesauce he is. SHOW ME. I wanna know. I’m here for the ride after all, aren’t I? And as a very precocious child who was always treated as an adult (seriously, I totally identified with CW), I really really wanted that payoff.
And never got it.
It’s why I never picked up her other series. I wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to leave me hanging.
His specialness has to do with his ability to “kythe” which is to be able to meld with someone else in their thoughts and emotions. You find this out by reading the other books.
I adore Tarzan. I wanted to be Just Like Him When I Gr[e]w Up when I was in grade five.
But, yeah. Gender!fail, among other fails, like WOAH. O.O
HA! Me too! Jane? Jane who? Talk to animals? Rule the jungle? HELL YES. LOL
Right there with you on the ERB love. And hey, how often WILL the princess knife someone? I loved that all the women carried weapons and could fight.
Yeah, exactly. So for me, because now I know as an adult I have this thing for competence porn, Meg drove me crazy because okay, fine, you’re an outcast. That doesn’t mean you can’t be competent at more then just having a big heart.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the love conquering all. But I like there to be a little bit more there in my female protags.
Dude. You are not the only one who Meg drove nuts. I read these as a child. I loved them. BUT. Meg drove me nuts. I read for Charles Wallace. And I hated that we never found out why he was truly special. You are not alone.
As a result, as much as I enjoyed the books as a kid, I didn’t re-read them as compulsively as I re-read my Edgar Rice Burroughs (and boy do you want gender fail there, yo! LOL) because Dejah Thoris may have been a stereotypical lady, but damn it, she’d knife you if you got uppity.
So, no, don’t feel bad for having issues with it. I find it hard to read a lot of kid lit now as an adult. It’s why I love Fairyland so fucking much. So go to.
What else do you want to talk about with the book? *gets coffee*
Yeah, I mean, if you say a character is ZOMGSPESHUL every five words, you have to fire that gun eventually.
*grin* I see you’ve read your Chekov.
YES. Don’t effin’ tell me forever how awesomesauce he is. SHOW ME. I wanna know. I’m here for the ride after all, aren’t I? And as a very precocious child who was always treated as an adult (seriously, I totally identified with CW), I really really wanted that payoff.
And never got it.
It’s why I never picked up her other series. I wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to leave me hanging.
His specialness has to do with his ability to “kythe” which is to be able to meld with someone else in their thoughts and emotions. You find this out by reading the other books.
I adore Tarzan. I wanted to be Just Like Him When I Gr[e]w Up when I was in grade five.
But, yeah. Gender!fail, among other fails, like WOAH. O.O
HA! Me too! Jane? Jane who? Talk to animals? Rule the jungle? HELL YES. LOL
Right there with you on the ERB love. And hey, how often WILL the princess knife someone? I loved that all the women carried weapons and could fight.
Yeah, exactly. So for me, because now I know as an adult I have this thing for competence porn, Meg drove me crazy because okay, fine, you’re an outcast. That doesn’t mean you can’t be competent at more then just having a big heart.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the love conquering all. But I like there to be a little bit more there in my female protags.
Dude. You are not the only one who Meg drove nuts. I read these as a child. I loved them. BUT. Meg drove me nuts. I read for Charles Wallace. And I hated that we never found out why he was truly special. You are not alone.
As a result, as much as I enjoyed the books as a kid, I didn’t re-read them as compulsively as I re-read my Edgar Rice Burroughs (and boy do you want gender fail there, yo! LOL) because Dejah Thoris may have been a stereotypical lady, but damn it, she’d knife you if you got uppity.
So, no, don’t feel bad for having issues with it. I find it hard to read a lot of kid lit now as an adult. It’s why I love Fairyland so fucking much. So go to.
What else do you want to talk about with the book? *gets coffee*
Yeah, I mean, if you say a character is ZOMGSPESHUL every five words, you have to fire that gun eventually.
*grin* I see you’ve read your Chekov.
YES. Don’t effin’ tell me forever how awesomesauce he is. SHOW ME. I wanna know. I’m here for the ride after all, aren’t I? And as a very precocious child who was always treated as an adult (seriously, I totally identified with CW), I really really wanted that payoff.
And never got it.
It’s why I never picked up her other series. I wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to leave me hanging.
His specialness has to do with his ability to “kythe” which is to be able to meld with someone else in their thoughts and emotions. You find this out by reading the other books.
I adore Tarzan. I wanted to be Just Like Him When I Gr[e]w Up when I was in grade five.
But, yeah. Gender!fail, among other fails, like WOAH. O.O
HA! Me too! Jane? Jane who? Talk to animals? Rule the jungle? HELL YES. LOL
Right there with you on the ERB love. And hey, how often WILL the princess knife someone? I loved that all the women carried weapons and could fight.
Yeah, exactly. So for me, because now I know as an adult I have this thing for competence porn, Meg drove me crazy because okay, fine, you’re an outcast. That doesn’t mean you can’t be competent at more then just having a big heart.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the love conquering all. But I like there to be a little bit more there in my female protags.
Dude. You are not the only one who Meg drove nuts. I read these as a child. I loved them. BUT. Meg drove me nuts. I read for Charles Wallace. And I hated that we never found out why he was truly special. You are not alone.
As a result, as much as I enjoyed the books as a kid, I didn’t re-read them as compulsively as I re-read my Edgar Rice Burroughs (and boy do you want gender fail there, yo! LOL) because Dejah Thoris may have been a stereotypical lady, but damn it, she’d knife you if you got uppity.
So, no, don’t feel bad for having issues with it. I find it hard to read a lot of kid lit now as an adult. It’s why I love Fairyland so fucking much. So go to.
What else do you want to talk about with the book? *gets coffee*
Yeah, I mean, if you say a character is ZOMGSPESHUL every five words, you have to fire that gun eventually.
*grin* I see you’ve read your Chekov.
YES. Don’t effin’ tell me forever how awesomesauce he is. SHOW ME. I wanna know. I’m here for the ride after all, aren’t I? And as a very precocious child who was always treated as an adult (seriously, I totally identified with CW), I really really wanted that payoff.
And never got it.
It’s why I never picked up her other series. I wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to leave me hanging.
His specialness has to do with his ability to “kythe” which is to be able to meld with someone else in their thoughts and emotions. You find this out by reading the other books.
I adore Tarzan. I wanted to be Just Like Him When I Gr[e]w Up when I was in grade five.
But, yeah. Gender!fail, among other fails, like WOAH. O.O
HA! Me too! Jane? Jane who? Talk to animals? Rule the jungle? HELL YES. LOL
Right there with you on the ERB love. And hey, how often WILL the princess knife someone? I loved that all the women carried weapons and could fight.
Yeah, exactly. So for me, because now I know as an adult I have this thing for competence porn, Meg drove me crazy because okay, fine, you’re an outcast. That doesn’t mean you can’t be competent at more then just having a big heart.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the love conquering all. But I like there to be a little bit more there in my female protags.
When I was 10 years old (in 1968), that disembodied brain had me so horrified me that my teacher, who was reading the book aloud to our class chapter by chapter every day after lunch, let me leave the room while she was reading that part. (I had read ahead, you see, so I knew what was coming.)
Afterward, she talked to me very seriously about it and pointed out that if I really wanted to be a vet (my ambition at the time), I was going to have to dissect things and look at innards, including brains. So I threw away that goal, because I was so grossed out.
All of which is to say that yes, the age at which and the time in history when someone reads this book can make a lot of difference.
(My mother was also a scientist, but she wasn’t nearly as perfect as Mrs. Murray. She was a neurotic mess who eventually developed a full-blown case of bipolar disorder, poor woman. So Mrs. Murray was a fantasy mom to me for completely different reasons.)
And having grown up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I didn’t find it even alarming.
The only one of L’Engle’s books that I ever re-read compulsively was, for some reason, The Young Unicorns, which is only tangentially related to A Wrinkle in Time.
I agree, that disembodied brain really got me as a kid.
When I was 10 years old (in 1968), that disembodied brain had me so horrified me that my teacher, who was reading the book aloud to our class chapter by chapter every day after lunch, let me leave the room while she was reading that part. (I had read ahead, you see, so I knew what was coming.)
Afterward, she talked to me very seriously about it and pointed out that if I really wanted to be a vet (my ambition at the time), I was going to have to dissect things and look at innards, including brains. So I threw away that goal, because I was so grossed out.
All of which is to say that yes, the age at which and the time in history when someone reads this book can make a lot of difference.
(My mother was also a scientist, but she wasn’t nearly as perfect as Mrs. Murray. She was a neurotic mess who eventually developed a full-blown case of bipolar disorder, poor woman. So Mrs. Murray was a fantasy mom to me for completely different reasons.)
And having grown up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I didn’t find it even alarming.
The only one of L’Engle’s books that I ever re-read compulsively was, for some reason, The Young Unicorns, which is only tangentially related to A Wrinkle in Time.
I agree, that disembodied brain really got me as a kid.
When I was 10 years old (in 1968), that disembodied brain had me so horrified me that my teacher, who was reading the book aloud to our class chapter by chapter every day after lunch, let me leave the room while she was reading that part. (I had read ahead, you see, so I knew what was coming.)
Afterward, she talked to me very seriously about it and pointed out that if I really wanted to be a vet (my ambition at the time), I was going to have to dissect things and look at innards, including brains. So I threw away that goal, because I was so grossed out.
All of which is to say that yes, the age at which and the time in history when someone reads this book can make a lot of difference.
(My mother was also a scientist, but she wasn’t nearly as perfect as Mrs. Murray. She was a neurotic mess who eventually developed a full-blown case of bipolar disorder, poor woman. So Mrs. Murray was a fantasy mom to me for completely different reasons.)
And having grown up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I didn’t find it even alarming.
The only one of L’Engle’s books that I ever re-read compulsively was, for some reason, The Young Unicorns, which is only tangentially related to A Wrinkle in Time.
I agree, that disembodied brain really got me as a kid.
When I was 10 years old (in 1968), that disembodied brain had me so horrified me that my teacher, who was reading the book aloud to our class chapter by chapter every day after lunch, let me leave the room while she was reading that part. (I had read ahead, you see, so I knew what was coming.)
Afterward, she talked to me very seriously about it and pointed out that if I really wanted to be a vet (my ambition at the time), I was going to have to dissect things and look at innards, including brains. So I threw away that goal, because I was so grossed out.
All of which is to say that yes, the age at which and the time in history when someone reads this book can make a lot of difference.
(My mother was also a scientist, but she wasn’t nearly as perfect as Mrs. Murray. She was a neurotic mess who eventually developed a full-blown case of bipolar disorder, poor woman. So Mrs. Murray was a fantasy mom to me for completely different reasons.)
And having grown up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I didn’t find it even alarming.
The only one of L’Engle’s books that I ever re-read compulsively was, for some reason, The Young Unicorns, which is only tangentially related to A Wrinkle in Time.
I agree, that disembodied brain really got me as a kid.
When I was 10 years old (in 1968), that disembodied brain had me so horrified me that my teacher, who was reading the book aloud to our class chapter by chapter every day after lunch, let me leave the room while she was reading that part. (I had read ahead, you see, so I knew what was coming.)
Afterward, she talked to me very seriously about it and pointed out that if I really wanted to be a vet (my ambition at the time), I was going to have to dissect things and look at innards, including brains. So I threw away that goal, because I was so grossed out.
All of which is to say that yes, the age at which and the time in history when someone reads this book can make a lot of difference.
(My mother was also a scientist, but she wasn’t nearly as perfect as Mrs. Murray. She was a neurotic mess who eventually developed a full-blown case of bipolar disorder, poor woman. So Mrs. Murray was a fantasy mom to me for completely different reasons.)
And having grown up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I didn’t find it even alarming.
The only one of L’Engle’s books that I ever re-read compulsively was, for some reason, The Young Unicorns, which is only tangentially related to A Wrinkle in Time.
I agree, that disembodied brain really got me as a kid.
The Suck Fairy visited that one
I tried re-reading this one last year. The Suck Fairy had visited.
I had those incredibly nostalgic, warm fuzzy memories of experiencing it as a kid. I actually heard it as a serial on the radio as a kid. I remember sitting on my mother’s lap in our little kitchen in the trailer and listening. I was immensely disappointed when I discovered I couldn’t read it now. Too heavy handed.
I’m not sure where he got this from, but my brother says that when, after many years, you re-visit a book that you loved and discover it now sucks, then between then and now the Suck Fairy has visited and cursed the book.
The Suck Fairy visited that one
I tried re-reading this one last year. The Suck Fairy had visited.
I had those incredibly nostalgic, warm fuzzy memories of experiencing it as a kid. I actually heard it as a serial on the radio as a kid. I remember sitting on my mother’s lap in our little kitchen in the trailer and listening. I was immensely disappointed when I discovered I couldn’t read it now. Too heavy handed.
I’m not sure where he got this from, but my brother says that when, after many years, you re-visit a book that you loved and discover it now sucks, then between then and now the Suck Fairy has visited and cursed the book.
The Suck Fairy visited that one
I tried re-reading this one last year. The Suck Fairy had visited.
I had those incredibly nostalgic, warm fuzzy memories of experiencing it as a kid. I actually heard it as a serial on the radio as a kid. I remember sitting on my mother’s lap in our little kitchen in the trailer and listening. I was immensely disappointed when I discovered I couldn’t read it now. Too heavy handed.
I’m not sure where he got this from, but my brother says that when, after many years, you re-visit a book that you loved and discover it now sucks, then between then and now the Suck Fairy has visited and cursed the book.
The Suck Fairy visited that one
I tried re-reading this one last year. The Suck Fairy had visited.
I had those incredibly nostalgic, warm fuzzy memories of experiencing it as a kid. I actually heard it as a serial on the radio as a kid. I remember sitting on my mother’s lap in our little kitchen in the trailer and listening. I was immensely disappointed when I discovered I couldn’t read it now. Too heavy handed.
I’m not sure where he got this from, but my brother says that when, after many years, you re-visit a book that you loved and discover it now sucks, then between then and now the Suck Fairy has visited and cursed the book.
The Suck Fairy visited that one
I tried re-reading this one last year. The Suck Fairy had visited.
I had those incredibly nostalgic, warm fuzzy memories of experiencing it as a kid. I actually heard it as a serial on the radio as a kid. I remember sitting on my mother’s lap in our little kitchen in the trailer and listening. I was immensely disappointed when I discovered I couldn’t read it now. Too heavy handed.
I’m not sure where he got this from, but my brother says that when, after many years, you re-visit a book that you loved and discover it now sucks, then between then and now the Suck Fairy has visited and cursed the book.
If you are going to continue the series, I’d be interested to see how your reading of Mrs. Murry in opposition to Mrs. O’Keefe develops once you read A Swiftly Tilting Planet. The tropes of these women are still problematic in ASTP — and the treatment of mothers and motherhood is even worse in the books about the second generation of the Murry/O’Keefe families! — but at least L’Engle seems to develop more awareness of what she’s doing with mothers.
On Meg’s imperfections, and the way they set her against the idealized male characters: Meg was the first heroine I met in books who had the qualities of not being perfect. Meg is grumpy. Meg is whiny, and knows it for a flaw. Meg hates school. I see how these things set Meg apart from the boys around her, the angelically brilliant Charles Wallace and the angelically noble Calvin. Yes, the gender dynamics are troubling, and I see them now that you’ve shown them to me. But if I had to choose, I would far, far rather make Charles and Calvin less perfect and keep Meg as she is.
I don’t mind Meg being not perfect. It’s that everyone else IS, while also having power that is not about Love, the ultimate feminine trait, most especially Love of Men. She can be flawed and still not be the most useless one in the room. She’s like the Kari Byron of the Murrys.
Meg’s also got crippling self esteem issues that prevent her from competing with her mother professionally, and kinda martyrs herself professionally in order giving the same kind of insecurities to her daughter — like she essentially removes herself from the competition to avoid competing with her mom or suggesting that Poly has to compete with her. When I read that as a kid I found it wonderfully tragic — that’s why I felt such compassion for her.
I understand that L’Engle was working on a final book, where Meg returns to grad school to get her doctorate in math after her youngest kid goes off to college.
Also, hi! I helped set up your keg at WisCon, and helped set up the wall decorations and stuff for the party.
If you are going to continue the series, I’d be interested to see how your reading of Mrs. Murry in opposition to Mrs. O’Keefe develops once you read A Swiftly Tilting Planet. The tropes of these women are still problematic in ASTP — and the treatment of mothers and motherhood is even worse in the books about the second generation of the Murry/O’Keefe families! — but at least L’Engle seems to develop more awareness of what she’s doing with mothers.
On Meg’s imperfections, and the way they set her against the idealized male characters: Meg was the first heroine I met in books who had the qualities of not being perfect. Meg is grumpy. Meg is whiny, and knows it for a flaw. Meg hates school. I see how these things set Meg apart from the boys around her, the angelically brilliant Charles Wallace and the angelically noble Calvin. Yes, the gender dynamics are troubling, and I see them now that you’ve shown them to me. But if I had to choose, I would far, far rather make Charles and Calvin less perfect and keep Meg as she is.
I don’t mind Meg being not perfect. It’s that everyone else IS, while also having power that is not about Love, the ultimate feminine trait, most especially Love of Men. She can be flawed and still not be the most useless one in the room. She’s like the Kari Byron of the Murrys.
Meg’s also got crippling self esteem issues that prevent her from competing with her mother professionally, and kinda martyrs herself professionally in order giving the same kind of insecurities to her daughter — like she essentially removes herself from the competition to avoid competing with her mom or suggesting that Poly has to compete with her. When I read that as a kid I found it wonderfully tragic — that’s why I felt such compassion for her.
I understand that L’Engle was working on a final book, where Meg returns to grad school to get her doctorate in math after her youngest kid goes off to college.
Also, hi! I helped set up your keg at WisCon, and helped set up the wall decorations and stuff for the party.
If you are going to continue the series, I’d be interested to see how your reading of Mrs. Murry in opposition to Mrs. O’Keefe develops once you read A Swiftly Tilting Planet. The tropes of these women are still problematic in ASTP — and the treatment of mothers and motherhood is even worse in the books about the second generation of the Murry/O’Keefe families! — but at least L’Engle seems to develop more awareness of what she’s doing with mothers.
On Meg’s imperfections, and the way they set her against the idealized male characters: Meg was the first heroine I met in books who had the qualities of not being perfect. Meg is grumpy. Meg is whiny, and knows it for a flaw. Meg hates school. I see how these things set Meg apart from the boys around her, the angelically brilliant Charles Wallace and the angelically noble Calvin. Yes, the gender dynamics are troubling, and I see them now that you’ve shown them to me. But if I had to choose, I would far, far rather make Charles and Calvin less perfect and keep Meg as she is.
I don’t mind Meg being not perfect. It’s that everyone else IS, while also having power that is not about Love, the ultimate feminine trait, most especially Love of Men. She can be flawed and still not be the most useless one in the room. She’s like the Kari Byron of the Murrys.
Meg’s also got crippling self esteem issues that prevent her from competing with her mother professionally, and kinda martyrs herself professionally in order giving the same kind of insecurities to her daughter — like she essentially removes herself from the competition to avoid competing with her mom or suggesting that Poly has to compete with her. When I read that as a kid I found it wonderfully tragic — that’s why I felt such compassion for her.
I understand that L’Engle was working on a final book, where Meg returns to grad school to get her doctorate in math after her youngest kid goes off to college.
Also, hi! I helped set up your keg at WisCon, and helped set up the wall decorations and stuff for the party.
If you are going to continue the series, I’d be interested to see how your reading of Mrs. Murry in opposition to Mrs. O’Keefe develops once you read A Swiftly Tilting Planet. The tropes of these women are still problematic in ASTP — and the treatment of mothers and motherhood is even worse in the books about the second generation of the Murry/O’Keefe families! — but at least L’Engle seems to develop more awareness of what she’s doing with mothers.
On Meg’s imperfections, and the way they set her against the idealized male characters: Meg was the first heroine I met in books who had the qualities of not being perfect. Meg is grumpy. Meg is whiny, and knows it for a flaw. Meg hates school. I see how these things set Meg apart from the boys around her, the angelically brilliant Charles Wallace and the angelically noble Calvin. Yes, the gender dynamics are troubling, and I see them now that you’ve shown them to me. But if I had to choose, I would far, far rather make Charles and Calvin less perfect and keep Meg as she is.
I don’t mind Meg being not perfect. It’s that everyone else IS, while also having power that is not about Love, the ultimate feminine trait, most especially Love of Men. She can be flawed and still not be the most useless one in the room. She’s like the Kari Byron of the Murrys.
Meg’s also got crippling self esteem issues that prevent her from competing with her mother professionally, and kinda martyrs herself professionally in order giving the same kind of insecurities to her daughter — like she essentially removes herself from the competition to avoid competing with her mom or suggesting that Poly has to compete with her. When I read that as a kid I found it wonderfully tragic — that’s why I felt such compassion for her.
I understand that L’Engle was working on a final book, where Meg returns to grad school to get her doctorate in math after her youngest kid goes off to college.
Also, hi! I helped set up your keg at WisCon, and helped set up the wall decorations and stuff for the party.
If you are going to continue the series, I’d be interested to see how your reading of Mrs. Murry in opposition to Mrs. O’Keefe develops once you read A Swiftly Tilting Planet. The tropes of these women are still problematic in ASTP — and the treatment of mothers and motherhood is even worse in the books about the second generation of the Murry/O’Keefe families! — but at least L’Engle seems to develop more awareness of what she’s doing with mothers.
On Meg’s imperfections, and the way they set her against the idealized male characters: Meg was the first heroine I met in books who had the qualities of not being perfect. Meg is grumpy. Meg is whiny, and knows it for a flaw. Meg hates school. I see how these things set Meg apart from the boys around her, the angelically brilliant Charles Wallace and the angelically noble Calvin. Yes, the gender dynamics are troubling, and I see them now that you’ve shown them to me. But if I had to choose, I would far, far rather make Charles and Calvin less perfect and keep Meg as she is.
I don’t mind Meg being not perfect. It’s that everyone else IS, while also having power that is not about Love, the ultimate feminine trait, most especially Love of Men. She can be flawed and still not be the most useless one in the room. She’s like the Kari Byron of the Murrys.
Meg’s also got crippling self esteem issues that prevent her from competing with her mother professionally, and kinda martyrs herself professionally in order giving the same kind of insecurities to her daughter — like she essentially removes herself from the competition to avoid competing with her mom or suggesting that Poly has to compete with her. When I read that as a kid I found it wonderfully tragic — that’s why I felt such compassion for her.
I understand that L’Engle was working on a final book, where Meg returns to grad school to get her doctorate in math after her youngest kid goes off to college.
Also, hi! I helped set up your keg at WisCon, and helped set up the wall decorations and stuff for the party.
Despite the book being in my house throught my childhood and is probably still at my parents house I have never read it.
As far as the periodic table goes I used to have about 80 elements memorized. Now I just listen to Tom Lehrer instead.
Despite the book being in my house throught my childhood and is probably still at my parents house I have never read it.
As far as the periodic table goes I used to have about 80 elements memorized. Now I just listen to Tom Lehrer instead.
Despite the book being in my house throught my childhood and is probably still at my parents house I have never read it.
As far as the periodic table goes I used to have about 80 elements memorized. Now I just listen to Tom Lehrer instead.
Despite the book being in my house throught my childhood and is probably still at my parents house I have never read it.
As far as the periodic table goes I used to have about 80 elements memorized. Now I just listen to Tom Lehrer instead.
Despite the book being in my house throught my childhood and is probably still at my parents house I have never read it.
As far as the periodic table goes I used to have about 80 elements memorized. Now I just listen to Tom Lehrer instead.
I think Meg didn’t bother me because she was such a Mary Sue (not a term I knew at the time). I was 14 and moody and didn’t have any magic powers, so that made her the relatable center of the story. If she’d been OMGSPECIAL too, it would have been distancing.
So it made it like a really good funhouse ride for a 14-year-old girl (pre-High-Def-3D etc…) because I could basically ignore what characterization there was for her & just Be In her.
How was she a Mary Sue if she was flawed and didn’t have powers?
OK, I’m using the term wrong, then. I thought that just meant when you write in a character who’s a stand-in for yourself. “Harry Potter and the Short Myopic Librarian.”
It’s usually meant to indicate a stand in with impossible beauty, smarts, and virtues. An idealized version of the author.
OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
Meg worked powerfully for me as a stand-in for me, the reader, and I don’t think I would have stepped into that particular universe as fully, or felt as magically transported by it, if she had been an idealized, magical being.
Which is NOT to say that she’d work for me now, as an adult in 2011. I think you’re being admirably nuanced in your contemplation of it, from this late vantage point.
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
But, for example, Harry Potter has flaws, but is also the hero of the story, and has power too. A normal person is essential to a portal fantasy, but when it’s a girl with no power, serving as a catalyst for male stories, it becomes something troubling.
I think you’re right, I’m just trying to think back through the haze of 30 years of love for that book. The characters that actually stayed with me were the 3 time-traveling old women. But of course, I was growing up *surrounded* by stories of powerful male characters, so I think the boy characters just reinforced the status quo and hence weren’t memorable. (Which doesn’t mean reinforcing the status quo isn’t insidiously powerful!)
Of course it’s made clear the old women are not women when they show their true forms.
GET THEE BEHIND ME, SUCK FAIRY!
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I agree with the idea of Meg being a powerful stand-in for me as a child reading this. And well, at fourteen you usually ARE sort of a whiny PITA a lot of the time. It’s part of growing up. (It’s like looking back at Labyrinth. At twelve she seems so old and you completely understand why she’s feeling put-upon by her family. And then you watch it at twenty and think, “My god she’s so YOUNG and whiny.” Also “DAVID BOWIE WTF” but that’s something else entirely.)
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I finally rewatching Labyrinth a few years ago and went “I do not remember this bit with David Bowie tapping a riding crop on his boot. I would have expected to remember that…VIVIDLY.”
Actually, it’s arguable. Mary Sues usually have incredible and unrealistic treatment, but the central trait is that the story warps itself to accommodate the character.
Ordinary Mary Sues are possible, and sometimes even more annoying, because at least if she’s phenomenally special, you can at least see why she might imfluence things.
I don’t think the story favors Meg that much though.
And yeah – women who were scientists or good at math or basically female Dr. Who characters – amazing and revelatory in the 1970s!
There’s a tangentially linked L’Engle novel [A Ring of Endless Light] that has a different teenage female protagonist who can talk to dolphins. I’m really afraid to read it or even an analysis of it now, because I’m afraid it will turn out to have been the equivalent of “Twilight” or something – at 14, I absolutely would have ignored (or swallowed) everything else about a book if it had A GIRL WHO COULD TALK TO DOLPHINS.
It’s NOTHING like Twilight and it belongs to the Austin family series and it’s my favorite of absolutely all of MLE’s book. I highly recommend you give it a try. It has no resemblance to Twilight that I can think of.
Yay, thanks!
Thank goodness! It’s been 30 years, maybe I will seek it out.
I think Meg didn’t bother me because she was such a Mary Sue (not a term I knew at the time). I was 14 and moody and didn’t have any magic powers, so that made her the relatable center of the story. If she’d been OMGSPECIAL too, it would have been distancing.
So it made it like a really good funhouse ride for a 14-year-old girl (pre-High-Def-3D etc…) because I could basically ignore what characterization there was for her & just Be In her.
How was she a Mary Sue if she was flawed and didn’t have powers?
OK, I’m using the term wrong, then. I thought that just meant when you write in a character who’s a stand-in for yourself. “Harry Potter and the Short Myopic Librarian.”
It’s usually meant to indicate a stand in with impossible beauty, smarts, and virtues. An idealized version of the author.
OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
Meg worked powerfully for me as a stand-in for me, the reader, and I don’t think I would have stepped into that particular universe as fully, or felt as magically transported by it, if she had been an idealized, magical being.
Which is NOT to say that she’d work for me now, as an adult in 2011. I think you’re being admirably nuanced in your contemplation of it, from this late vantage point.
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
But, for example, Harry Potter has flaws, but is also the hero of the story, and has power too. A normal person is essential to a portal fantasy, but when it’s a girl with no power, serving as a catalyst for male stories, it becomes something troubling.
I think you’re right, I’m just trying to think back through the haze of 30 years of love for that book. The characters that actually stayed with me were the 3 time-traveling old women. But of course, I was growing up *surrounded* by stories of powerful male characters, so I think the boy characters just reinforced the status quo and hence weren’t memorable. (Which doesn’t mean reinforcing the status quo isn’t insidiously powerful!)
Of course it’s made clear the old women are not women when they show their true forms.
GET THEE BEHIND ME, SUCK FAIRY!
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I agree with the idea of Meg being a powerful stand-in for me as a child reading this. And well, at fourteen you usually ARE sort of a whiny PITA a lot of the time. It’s part of growing up. (It’s like looking back at Labyrinth. At twelve she seems so old and you completely understand why she’s feeling put-upon by her family. And then you watch it at twenty and think, “My god she’s so YOUNG and whiny.” Also “DAVID BOWIE WTF” but that’s something else entirely.)
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I finally rewatching Labyrinth a few years ago and went “I do not remember this bit with David Bowie tapping a riding crop on his boot. I would have expected to remember that…VIVIDLY.”
Actually, it’s arguable. Mary Sues usually have incredible and unrealistic treatment, but the central trait is that the story warps itself to accommodate the character.
Ordinary Mary Sues are possible, and sometimes even more annoying, because at least if she’s phenomenally special, you can at least see why she might imfluence things.
I don’t think the story favors Meg that much though.
And yeah – women who were scientists or good at math or basically female Dr. Who characters – amazing and revelatory in the 1970s!
There’s a tangentially linked L’Engle novel [A Ring of Endless Light] that has a different teenage female protagonist who can talk to dolphins. I’m really afraid to read it or even an analysis of it now, because I’m afraid it will turn out to have been the equivalent of “Twilight” or something – at 14, I absolutely would have ignored (or swallowed) everything else about a book if it had A GIRL WHO COULD TALK TO DOLPHINS.
It’s NOTHING like Twilight and it belongs to the Austin family series and it’s my favorite of absolutely all of MLE’s book. I highly recommend you give it a try. It has no resemblance to Twilight that I can think of.
Yay, thanks!
Thank goodness! It’s been 30 years, maybe I will seek it out.
I think Meg didn’t bother me because she was such a Mary Sue (not a term I knew at the time). I was 14 and moody and didn’t have any magic powers, so that made her the relatable center of the story. If she’d been OMGSPECIAL too, it would have been distancing.
So it made it like a really good funhouse ride for a 14-year-old girl (pre-High-Def-3D etc…) because I could basically ignore what characterization there was for her & just Be In her.
How was she a Mary Sue if she was flawed and didn’t have powers?
OK, I’m using the term wrong, then. I thought that just meant when you write in a character who’s a stand-in for yourself. “Harry Potter and the Short Myopic Librarian.”
It’s usually meant to indicate a stand in with impossible beauty, smarts, and virtues. An idealized version of the author.
OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
Meg worked powerfully for me as a stand-in for me, the reader, and I don’t think I would have stepped into that particular universe as fully, or felt as magically transported by it, if she had been an idealized, magical being.
Which is NOT to say that she’d work for me now, as an adult in 2011. I think you’re being admirably nuanced in your contemplation of it, from this late vantage point.
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
But, for example, Harry Potter has flaws, but is also the hero of the story, and has power too. A normal person is essential to a portal fantasy, but when it’s a girl with no power, serving as a catalyst for male stories, it becomes something troubling.
I think you’re right, I’m just trying to think back through the haze of 30 years of love for that book. The characters that actually stayed with me were the 3 time-traveling old women. But of course, I was growing up *surrounded* by stories of powerful male characters, so I think the boy characters just reinforced the status quo and hence weren’t memorable. (Which doesn’t mean reinforcing the status quo isn’t insidiously powerful!)
Of course it’s made clear the old women are not women when they show their true forms.
GET THEE BEHIND ME, SUCK FAIRY!
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I agree with the idea of Meg being a powerful stand-in for me as a child reading this. And well, at fourteen you usually ARE sort of a whiny PITA a lot of the time. It’s part of growing up. (It’s like looking back at Labyrinth. At twelve she seems so old and you completely understand why she’s feeling put-upon by her family. And then you watch it at twenty and think, “My god she’s so YOUNG and whiny.” Also “DAVID BOWIE WTF” but that’s something else entirely.)
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I finally rewatching Labyrinth a few years ago and went “I do not remember this bit with David Bowie tapping a riding crop on his boot. I would have expected to remember that…VIVIDLY.”
Actually, it’s arguable. Mary Sues usually have incredible and unrealistic treatment, but the central trait is that the story warps itself to accommodate the character.
Ordinary Mary Sues are possible, and sometimes even more annoying, because at least if she’s phenomenally special, you can at least see why she might imfluence things.
I don’t think the story favors Meg that much though.
And yeah – women who were scientists or good at math or basically female Dr. Who characters – amazing and revelatory in the 1970s!
There’s a tangentially linked L’Engle novel [A Ring of Endless Light] that has a different teenage female protagonist who can talk to dolphins. I’m really afraid to read it or even an analysis of it now, because I’m afraid it will turn out to have been the equivalent of “Twilight” or something – at 14, I absolutely would have ignored (or swallowed) everything else about a book if it had A GIRL WHO COULD TALK TO DOLPHINS.
It’s NOTHING like Twilight and it belongs to the Austin family series and it’s my favorite of absolutely all of MLE’s book. I highly recommend you give it a try. It has no resemblance to Twilight that I can think of.
Yay, thanks!
Thank goodness! It’s been 30 years, maybe I will seek it out.
I think Meg didn’t bother me because she was such a Mary Sue (not a term I knew at the time). I was 14 and moody and didn’t have any magic powers, so that made her the relatable center of the story. If she’d been OMGSPECIAL too, it would have been distancing.
So it made it like a really good funhouse ride for a 14-year-old girl (pre-High-Def-3D etc…) because I could basically ignore what characterization there was for her & just Be In her.
How was she a Mary Sue if she was flawed and didn’t have powers?
OK, I’m using the term wrong, then. I thought that just meant when you write in a character who’s a stand-in for yourself. “Harry Potter and the Short Myopic Librarian.”
It’s usually meant to indicate a stand in with impossible beauty, smarts, and virtues. An idealized version of the author.
OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
Meg worked powerfully for me as a stand-in for me, the reader, and I don’t think I would have stepped into that particular universe as fully, or felt as magically transported by it, if she had been an idealized, magical being.
Which is NOT to say that she’d work for me now, as an adult in 2011. I think you’re being admirably nuanced in your contemplation of it, from this late vantage point.
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
But, for example, Harry Potter has flaws, but is also the hero of the story, and has power too. A normal person is essential to a portal fantasy, but when it’s a girl with no power, serving as a catalyst for male stories, it becomes something troubling.
I think you’re right, I’m just trying to think back through the haze of 30 years of love for that book. The characters that actually stayed with me were the 3 time-traveling old women. But of course, I was growing up *surrounded* by stories of powerful male characters, so I think the boy characters just reinforced the status quo and hence weren’t memorable. (Which doesn’t mean reinforcing the status quo isn’t insidiously powerful!)
Of course it’s made clear the old women are not women when they show their true forms.
GET THEE BEHIND ME, SUCK FAIRY!
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I agree with the idea of Meg being a powerful stand-in for me as a child reading this. And well, at fourteen you usually ARE sort of a whiny PITA a lot of the time. It’s part of growing up. (It’s like looking back at Labyrinth. At twelve she seems so old and you completely understand why she’s feeling put-upon by her family. And then you watch it at twenty and think, “My god she’s so YOUNG and whiny.” Also “DAVID BOWIE WTF” but that’s something else entirely.)
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I finally rewatching Labyrinth a few years ago and went “I do not remember this bit with David Bowie tapping a riding crop on his boot. I would have expected to remember that…VIVIDLY.”
Actually, it’s arguable. Mary Sues usually have incredible and unrealistic treatment, but the central trait is that the story warps itself to accommodate the character.
Ordinary Mary Sues are possible, and sometimes even more annoying, because at least if she’s phenomenally special, you can at least see why she might imfluence things.
I don’t think the story favors Meg that much though.
And yeah – women who were scientists or good at math or basically female Dr. Who characters – amazing and revelatory in the 1970s!
There’s a tangentially linked L’Engle novel [A Ring of Endless Light] that has a different teenage female protagonist who can talk to dolphins. I’m really afraid to read it or even an analysis of it now, because I’m afraid it will turn out to have been the equivalent of “Twilight” or something – at 14, I absolutely would have ignored (or swallowed) everything else about a book if it had A GIRL WHO COULD TALK TO DOLPHINS.
It’s NOTHING like Twilight and it belongs to the Austin family series and it’s my favorite of absolutely all of MLE’s book. I highly recommend you give it a try. It has no resemblance to Twilight that I can think of.
Yay, thanks!
Thank goodness! It’s been 30 years, maybe I will seek it out.
I think Meg didn’t bother me because she was such a Mary Sue (not a term I knew at the time). I was 14 and moody and didn’t have any magic powers, so that made her the relatable center of the story. If she’d been OMGSPECIAL too, it would have been distancing.
So it made it like a really good funhouse ride for a 14-year-old girl (pre-High-Def-3D etc…) because I could basically ignore what characterization there was for her & just Be In her.
How was she a Mary Sue if she was flawed and didn’t have powers?
OK, I’m using the term wrong, then. I thought that just meant when you write in a character who’s a stand-in for yourself. “Harry Potter and the Short Myopic Librarian.”
It’s usually meant to indicate a stand in with impossible beauty, smarts, and virtues. An idealized version of the author.
OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
Meg worked powerfully for me as a stand-in for me, the reader, and I don’t think I would have stepped into that particular universe as fully, or felt as magically transported by it, if she had been an idealized, magical being.
Which is NOT to say that she’d work for me now, as an adult in 2011. I think you’re being admirably nuanced in your contemplation of it, from this late vantage point.
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
But, for example, Harry Potter has flaws, but is also the hero of the story, and has power too. A normal person is essential to a portal fantasy, but when it’s a girl with no power, serving as a catalyst for male stories, it becomes something troubling.
I think you’re right, I’m just trying to think back through the haze of 30 years of love for that book. The characters that actually stayed with me were the 3 time-traveling old women. But of course, I was growing up *surrounded* by stories of powerful male characters, so I think the boy characters just reinforced the status quo and hence weren’t memorable. (Which doesn’t mean reinforcing the status quo isn’t insidiously powerful!)
Of course it’s made clear the old women are not women when they show their true forms.
GET THEE BEHIND ME, SUCK FAIRY!
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I agree with the idea of Meg being a powerful stand-in for me as a child reading this. And well, at fourteen you usually ARE sort of a whiny PITA a lot of the time. It’s part of growing up. (It’s like looking back at Labyrinth. At twelve she seems so old and you completely understand why she’s feeling put-upon by her family. And then you watch it at twenty and think, “My god she’s so YOUNG and whiny.” Also “DAVID BOWIE WTF” but that’s something else entirely.)
Re: OK so I flunked fanfic jargon
I finally rewatching Labyrinth a few years ago and went “I do not remember this bit with David Bowie tapping a riding crop on his boot. I would have expected to remember that…VIVIDLY.”
Actually, it’s arguable. Mary Sues usually have incredible and unrealistic treatment, but the central trait is that the story warps itself to accommodate the character.
Ordinary Mary Sues are possible, and sometimes even more annoying, because at least if she’s phenomenally special, you can at least see why she might imfluence things.
I don’t think the story favors Meg that much though.
And yeah – women who were scientists or good at math or basically female Dr. Who characters – amazing and revelatory in the 1970s!
There’s a tangentially linked L’Engle novel [A Ring of Endless Light] that has a different teenage female protagonist who can talk to dolphins. I’m really afraid to read it or even an analysis of it now, because I’m afraid it will turn out to have been the equivalent of “Twilight” or something – at 14, I absolutely would have ignored (or swallowed) everything else about a book if it had A GIRL WHO COULD TALK TO DOLPHINS.
It’s NOTHING like Twilight and it belongs to the Austin family series and it’s my favorite of absolutely all of MLE’s book. I highly recommend you give it a try. It has no resemblance to Twilight that I can think of.
Yay, thanks!
Thank goodness! It’s been 30 years, maybe I will seek it out.
By the end of A Swiftly Tilting Planet, you will have your answers as to where Charles Wallace is. I’ll say this, I’ve read these books a lot (I actually am Christian, so the God stuff doesn’t bother me), including very recently, and I always thought the primary reason Charles Wallace was so important to protect in Book One is because he was full of self enough to be the most vulnerable to IT.
The brain itself wasn’t that scary to me, but I think it wasn’t as tired when the book first came out.
…but MLE herself said she didn’t know what happened to CW, and that she’d write about it if it ever came to her.
Maybe it’s just because I see being an adult with a settled life as quite enough of an ending that I don’t see that as her not giving us what became of him. Maybe she didn’t give what MAY eventually become of him, but I felt no need to dig into his middle and old age either. He may be special, but he’s human, so reaching adulthood and reaching resolution was quite enough for me to feel like I knew what “became of him.”
I never really thought about different interpretations of that.
I feel like you’re making assumptions and projecting what you want to see, when it’s an acknowledged mystery in the fandom.
Not a fandom for me. I just considered that a kid being an adult with a sense of finality at the end of a book trilogy to be resolution. Not assuming. I just never thought about anybody wanting something else.
I ONLY read the books. I never thought of them as a fandom or read anyone else’s analysis before or read any of MLE’s thoughts on them either.
I just found that I felt a sense of resolution at the end of the book because his age and his big weakness were resolved and because it was a stopping point. I didn’t feel he would have no more adventures, but I didn’t feel his story arc was incomplete.
That isn’t an assumption; it’s an impression. And I’m glad to find out there are different ones out there, but since you haven’t read the book, I’m also very curious as to how you’ll feel about it when that book is over. I’m always excited to learn new things about books I love.
I hope that helps.
Yes, this, exactly. It would never have occurred to me to say that Charles Wallace’s arc is incomplete, because, well, he grew up, and I never felt like it was important that L’Engle pin down What Everyone Does With The Rest of Their Lives. (And, really, considering the Harry Potter epilogue, thank goodness she didn’t.)
But the twins later mention he’s missing.
I’m not entirely sure that he did become an adult and settled down. I got that he was special because he could kythe, but I never felt we had the end of his story. Or the end of Meg’s story, for that matter.
Really? I love Swiftly Tilting Planet, but I don’t see any answers for Charles Wallace’s eventual destinations there.
And since MLE died saying she didn’t know…
That’s where she left the family proper. As to where he is: with the family, pretty much following in his parents’ steps. He had his adventures; he came home (after finally kicking the last of his arrogance to the curb). Now, I haven’t read much of the stuff about Polly (didn’t like the various premises), but since that’s Meg’s and Calvin’s daughter, you might find some info on Charles Wallace buried in there.
Nothing in An Acceptable Time, but there are others: The Arm of the Starfish, etc.
By the end of A Swiftly Tilting Planet, you will have your answers as to where Charles Wallace is. I’ll say this, I’ve read these books a lot (I actually am Christian, so the God stuff doesn’t bother me), including very recently, and I always thought the primary reason Charles Wallace was so important to protect in Book One is because he was full of self enough to be the most vulnerable to IT.
The brain itself wasn’t that scary to me, but I think it wasn’t as tired when the book first came out.
…but MLE herself said she didn’t know what happened to CW, and that she’d write about it if it ever came to her.
Maybe it’s just because I see being an adult with a settled life as quite enough of an ending that I don’t see that as her not giving us what became of him. Maybe she didn’t give what MAY eventually become of him, but I felt no need to dig into his middle and old age either. He may be special, but he’s human, so reaching adulthood and reaching resolution was quite enough for me to feel like I knew what “became of him.”
I never really thought about different interpretations of that.
I feel like you’re making assumptions and projecting what you want to see, when it’s an acknowledged mystery in the fandom.
Not a fandom for me. I just considered that a kid being an adult with a sense of finality at the end of a book trilogy to be resolution. Not assuming. I just never thought about anybody wanting something else.
I ONLY read the books. I never thought of them as a fandom or read anyone else’s analysis before or read any of MLE’s thoughts on them either.
I just found that I felt a sense of resolution at the end of the book because his age and his big weakness were resolved and because it was a stopping point. I didn’t feel he would have no more adventures, but I didn’t feel his story arc was incomplete.
That isn’t an assumption; it’s an impression. And I’m glad to find out there are different ones out there, but since you haven’t read the book, I’m also very curious as to how you’ll feel about it when that book is over. I’m always excited to learn new things about books I love.
I hope that helps.
Yes, this, exactly. It would never have occurred to me to say that Charles Wallace’s arc is incomplete, because, well, he grew up, and I never felt like it was important that L’Engle pin down What Everyone Does With The Rest of Their Lives. (And, really, considering the Harry Potter epilogue, thank goodness she didn’t.)
But the twins later mention he’s missing.
I’m not entirely sure that he did become an adult and settled down. I got that he was special because he could kythe, but I never felt we had the end of his story. Or the end of Meg’s story, for that matter.
Really? I love Swiftly Tilting Planet, but I don’t see any answers for Charles Wallace’s eventual destinations there.
And since MLE died saying she didn’t know…
That’s where she left the family proper. As to where he is: with the family, pretty much following in his parents’ steps. He had his adventures; he came home (after finally kicking the last of his arrogance to the curb). Now, I haven’t read much of the stuff about Polly (didn’t like the various premises), but since that’s Meg’s and Calvin’s daughter, you might find some info on Charles Wallace buried in there.
Nothing in An Acceptable Time, but there are others: The Arm of the Starfish, etc.
By the end of A Swiftly Tilting Planet, you will have your answers as to where Charles Wallace is. I’ll say this, I’ve read these books a lot (I actually am Christian, so the God stuff doesn’t bother me), including very recently, and I always thought the primary reason Charles Wallace was so important to protect in Book One is because he was full of self enough to be the most vulnerable to IT.
The brain itself wasn’t that scary to me, but I think it wasn’t as tired when the book first came out.
…but MLE herself said she didn’t know what happened to CW, and that she’d write about it if it ever came to her.
Maybe it’s just because I see being an adult with a settled life as quite enough of an ending that I don’t see that as her not giving us what became of him. Maybe she didn’t give what MAY eventually become of him, but I felt no need to dig into his middle and old age either. He may be special, but he’s human, so reaching adulthood and reaching resolution was quite enough for me to feel like I knew what “became of him.”
I never really thought about different interpretations of that.
I feel like you’re making assumptions and projecting what you want to see, when it’s an acknowledged mystery in the fandom.
Not a fandom for me. I just considered that a kid being an adult with a sense of finality at the end of a book trilogy to be resolution. Not assuming. I just never thought about anybody wanting something else.
I ONLY read the books. I never thought of them as a fandom or read anyone else’s analysis before or read any of MLE’s thoughts on them either.
I just found that I felt a sense of resolution at the end of the book because his age and his big weakness were resolved and because it was a stopping point. I didn’t feel he would have no more adventures, but I didn’t feel his story arc was incomplete.
That isn’t an assumption; it’s an impression. And I’m glad to find out there are different ones out there, but since you haven’t read the book, I’m also very curious as to how you’ll feel about it when that book is over. I’m always excited to learn new things about books I love.
I hope that helps.
Yes, this, exactly. It would never have occurred to me to say that Charles Wallace’s arc is incomplete, because, well, he grew up, and I never felt like it was important that L’Engle pin down What Everyone Does With The Rest of Their Lives. (And, really, considering the Harry Potter epilogue, thank goodness she didn’t.)
But the twins later mention he’s missing.
I’m not entirely sure that he did become an adult and settled down. I got that he was special because he could kythe, but I never felt we had the end of his story. Or the end of Meg’s story, for that matter.
Really? I love Swiftly Tilting Planet, but I don’t see any answers for Charles Wallace’s eventual destinations there.
And since MLE died saying she didn’t know…
That’s where she left the family proper. As to where he is: with the family, pretty much following in his parents’ steps. He had his adventures; he came home (after finally kicking the last of his arrogance to the curb). Now, I haven’t read much of the stuff about Polly (didn’t like the various premises), but since that’s Meg’s and Calvin’s daughter, you might find some info on Charles Wallace buried in there.
Nothing in An Acceptable Time, but there are others: The Arm of the Starfish, etc.
By the end of A Swiftly Tilting Planet, you will have your answers as to where Charles Wallace is. I’ll say this, I’ve read these books a lot (I actually am Christian, so the God stuff doesn’t bother me), including very recently, and I always thought the primary reason Charles Wallace was so important to protect in Book One is because he was full of self enough to be the most vulnerable to IT.
The brain itself wasn’t that scary to me, but I think it wasn’t as tired when the book first came out.
…but MLE herself said she didn’t know what happened to CW, and that she’d write about it if it ever came to her.
Maybe it’s just because I see being an adult with a settled life as quite enough of an ending that I don’t see that as her not giving us what became of him. Maybe she didn’t give what MAY eventually become of him, but I felt no need to dig into his middle and old age either. He may be special, but he’s human, so reaching adulthood and reaching resolution was quite enough for me to feel like I knew what “became of him.”
I never really thought about different interpretations of that.
I feel like you’re making assumptions and projecting what you want to see, when it’s an acknowledged mystery in the fandom.
Not a fandom for me. I just considered that a kid being an adult with a sense of finality at the end of a book trilogy to be resolution. Not assuming. I just never thought about anybody wanting something else.
I ONLY read the books. I never thought of them as a fandom or read anyone else’s analysis before or read any of MLE’s thoughts on them either.
I just found that I felt a sense of resolution at the end of the book because his age and his big weakness were resolved and because it was a stopping point. I didn’t feel he would have no more adventures, but I didn’t feel his story arc was incomplete.
That isn’t an assumption; it’s an impression. And I’m glad to find out there are different ones out there, but since you haven’t read the book, I’m also very curious as to how you’ll feel about it when that book is over. I’m always excited to learn new things about books I love.
I hope that helps.
Yes, this, exactly. It would never have occurred to me to say that Charles Wallace’s arc is incomplete, because, well, he grew up, and I never felt like it was important that L’Engle pin down What Everyone Does With The Rest of Their Lives. (And, really, considering the Harry Potter epilogue, thank goodness she didn’t.)
But the twins later mention he’s missing.
I’m not entirely sure that he did become an adult and settled down. I got that he was special because he could kythe, but I never felt we had the end of his story. Or the end of Meg’s story, for that matter.
Really? I love Swiftly Tilting Planet, but I don’t see any answers for Charles Wallace’s eventual destinations there.
And since MLE died saying she didn’t know…
That’s where she left the family proper. As to where he is: with the family, pretty much following in his parents’ steps. He had his adventures; he came home (after finally kicking the last of his arrogance to the curb). Now, I haven’t read much of the stuff about Polly (didn’t like the various premises), but since that’s Meg’s and Calvin’s daughter, you might find some info on Charles Wallace buried in there.
Nothing in An Acceptable Time, but there are others: The Arm of the Starfish, etc.
By the end of A Swiftly Tilting Planet, you will have your answers as to where Charles Wallace is. I’ll say this, I’ve read these books a lot (I actually am Christian, so the God stuff doesn’t bother me), including very recently, and I always thought the primary reason Charles Wallace was so important to protect in Book One is because he was full of self enough to be the most vulnerable to IT.
The brain itself wasn’t that scary to me, but I think it wasn’t as tired when the book first came out.
…but MLE herself said she didn’t know what happened to CW, and that she’d write about it if it ever came to her.
Maybe it’s just because I see being an adult with a settled life as quite enough of an ending that I don’t see that as her not giving us what became of him. Maybe she didn’t give what MAY eventually become of him, but I felt no need to dig into his middle and old age either. He may be special, but he’s human, so reaching adulthood and reaching resolution was quite enough for me to feel like I knew what “became of him.”
I never really thought about different interpretations of that.
I feel like you’re making assumptions and projecting what you want to see, when it’s an acknowledged mystery in the fandom.
Not a fandom for me. I just considered that a kid being an adult with a sense of finality at the end of a book trilogy to be resolution. Not assuming. I just never thought about anybody wanting something else.
I ONLY read the books. I never thought of them as a fandom or read anyone else’s analysis before or read any of MLE’s thoughts on them either.
I just found that I felt a sense of resolution at the end of the book because his age and his big weakness were resolved and because it was a stopping point. I didn’t feel he would have no more adventures, but I didn’t feel his story arc was incomplete.
That isn’t an assumption; it’s an impression. And I’m glad to find out there are different ones out there, but since you haven’t read the book, I’m also very curious as to how you’ll feel about it when that book is over. I’m always excited to learn new things about books I love.
I hope that helps.
Yes, this, exactly. It would never have occurred to me to say that Charles Wallace’s arc is incomplete, because, well, he grew up, and I never felt like it was important that L’Engle pin down What Everyone Does With The Rest of Their Lives. (And, really, considering the Harry Potter epilogue, thank goodness she didn’t.)
But the twins later mention he’s missing.
I’m not entirely sure that he did become an adult and settled down. I got that he was special because he could kythe, but I never felt we had the end of his story. Or the end of Meg’s story, for that matter.
Really? I love Swiftly Tilting Planet, but I don’t see any answers for Charles Wallace’s eventual destinations there.
And since MLE died saying she didn’t know…
That’s where she left the family proper. As to where he is: with the family, pretty much following in his parents’ steps. He had his adventures; he came home (after finally kicking the last of his arrogance to the curb). Now, I haven’t read much of the stuff about Polly (didn’t like the various premises), but since that’s Meg’s and Calvin’s daughter, you might find some info on Charles Wallace buried in there.
Nothing in An Acceptable Time, but there are others: The Arm of the Starfish, etc.
My own $0.11…
Owned the trilogy, read them as a child, loved them. I certainly see where you are coming from with Meg. I guess I always treated her more as the catalyst for the others- even if she didn’t have super-powers of her own, the fact the she was willing to go into the same areas as Charles and Calvin made her ever braver by comparison.
The Brain comment is a little unfair- the book came out years before Stephen King, and if it’s a cliche now, isn’t that like saying The Exorcist isn’t a scary movie because we’ve seen dozens of movies and parodies using the same concept?
I would recommend reading the other two books (Calvin’s mother plays an unexpected role in the third book). I thought the third book (A Swiftly Tilting Planet) was the best of the bunch, and hope you’re able to read the others.
I said it wasn’t fair–that too many others have done it since, and I can’t read it the same way.
But the girl being just a catalyst for the men? That’s old school, and it doesn’t make anything better.
I see her special gift as actually her intuition, which comes out even stronger in the second book. Also, I think of Book One as where she learns that she isn’t a child, and she can be stronger than all that. Her greatest weakness becomes her greatest strength: it’s her ability later to choose her emotions and channel them with power and to do that intuitive/kything thing that gives her her own power. She isn’t just a catalyst: she’s the channel by which they have to work. Without her, the men couldn’t do it at all. But like I said, this gets stronger and clearer by the time you’ve read all three books.
I think maybe the other thing as to why I have such a different view than you on this is:
I /am/ a catalyst. For possibly decades, I’ve known that that was my power-to be the catalyst that causes people to do things or transforms them in some way through my presence or pushes people to do things. And it doesn’t seem like a bad thing, and so I can’t see this as a bad thing at all. Even if it’s a catalyst for men.
It’s kind of like in organizing, I think the people who do the behind the scenes work to make the grand public gestures possible are even more to be respected than the people who just show up and are flashy…
A catalyst is fine. But it doesn’t make this amazing protag that I was told I’d find. And if one is a catalyst in real life but only for men, it’s uncomfortable. and that’s not what you do.
Wasn’t there some sort of male magical catalyst that was an awesome protag in some sort of fiction series? Can’t remember. Anyway, I think I see what you’re saying, and you’re definitely right-I catalyze all who come my way and are willing. I thiiiiiiink she catalyzes women too later on in the series, but I can’t be sure-and there definitely is a dearth of female characters overall outside of magictown.
My own $0.11…
Owned the trilogy, read them as a child, loved them. I certainly see where you are coming from with Meg. I guess I always treated her more as the catalyst for the others- even if she didn’t have super-powers of her own, the fact the she was willing to go into the same areas as Charles and Calvin made her ever braver by comparison.
The Brain comment is a little unfair- the book came out years before Stephen King, and if it’s a cliche now, isn’t that like saying The Exorcist isn’t a scary movie because we’ve seen dozens of movies and parodies using the same concept?
I would recommend reading the other two books (Calvin’s mother plays an unexpected role in the third book). I thought the third book (A Swiftly Tilting Planet) was the best of the bunch, and hope you’re able to read the others.
I said it wasn’t fair–that too many others have done it since, and I can’t read it the same way.
But the girl being just a catalyst for the men? That’s old school, and it doesn’t make anything better.
I see her special gift as actually her intuition, which comes out even stronger in the second book. Also, I think of Book One as where she learns that she isn’t a child, and she can be stronger than all that. Her greatest weakness becomes her greatest strength: it’s her ability later to choose her emotions and channel them with power and to do that intuitive/kything thing that gives her her own power. She isn’t just a catalyst: she’s the channel by which they have to work. Without her, the men couldn’t do it at all. But like I said, this gets stronger and clearer by the time you’ve read all three books.
I think maybe the other thing as to why I have such a different view than you on this is:
I /am/ a catalyst. For possibly decades, I’ve known that that was my power-to be the catalyst that causes people to do things or transforms them in some way through my presence or pushes people to do things. And it doesn’t seem like a bad thing, and so I can’t see this as a bad thing at all. Even if it’s a catalyst for men.
It’s kind of like in organizing, I think the people who do the behind the scenes work to make the grand public gestures possible are even more to be respected than the people who just show up and are flashy…
A catalyst is fine. But it doesn’t make this amazing protag that I was told I’d find. And if one is a catalyst in real life but only for men, it’s uncomfortable. and that’s not what you do.
Wasn’t there some sort of male magical catalyst that was an awesome protag in some sort of fiction series? Can’t remember. Anyway, I think I see what you’re saying, and you’re definitely right-I catalyze all who come my way and are willing. I thiiiiiiink she catalyzes women too later on in the series, but I can’t be sure-and there definitely is a dearth of female characters overall outside of magictown.
My own $0.11…
Owned the trilogy, read them as a child, loved them. I certainly see where you are coming from with Meg. I guess I always treated her more as the catalyst for the others- even if she didn’t have super-powers of her own, the fact the she was willing to go into the same areas as Charles and Calvin made her ever braver by comparison.
The Brain comment is a little unfair- the book came out years before Stephen King, and if it’s a cliche now, isn’t that like saying The Exorcist isn’t a scary movie because we’ve seen dozens of movies and parodies using the same concept?
I would recommend reading the other two books (Calvin’s mother plays an unexpected role in the third book). I thought the third book (A Swiftly Tilting Planet) was the best of the bunch, and hope you’re able to read the others.
I said it wasn’t fair–that too many others have done it since, and I can’t read it the same way.
But the girl being just a catalyst for the men? That’s old school, and it doesn’t make anything better.
I see her special gift as actually her intuition, which comes out even stronger in the second book. Also, I think of Book One as where she learns that she isn’t a child, and she can be stronger than all that. Her greatest weakness becomes her greatest strength: it’s her ability later to choose her emotions and channel them with power and to do that intuitive/kything thing that gives her her own power. She isn’t just a catalyst: she’s the channel by which they have to work. Without her, the men couldn’t do it at all. But like I said, this gets stronger and clearer by the time you’ve read all three books.
I think maybe the other thing as to why I have such a different view than you on this is:
I /am/ a catalyst. For possibly decades, I’ve known that that was my power-to be the catalyst that causes people to do things or transforms them in some way through my presence or pushes people to do things. And it doesn’t seem like a bad thing, and so I can’t see this as a bad thing at all. Even if it’s a catalyst for men.
It’s kind of like in organizing, I think the people who do the behind the scenes work to make the grand public gestures possible are even more to be respected than the people who just show up and are flashy…
A catalyst is fine. But it doesn’t make this amazing protag that I was told I’d find. And if one is a catalyst in real life but only for men, it’s uncomfortable. and that’s not what you do.
Wasn’t there some sort of male magical catalyst that was an awesome protag in some sort of fiction series? Can’t remember. Anyway, I think I see what you’re saying, and you’re definitely right-I catalyze all who come my way and are willing. I thiiiiiiink she catalyzes women too later on in the series, but I can’t be sure-and there definitely is a dearth of female characters overall outside of magictown.
My own $0.11…
Owned the trilogy, read them as a child, loved them. I certainly see where you are coming from with Meg. I guess I always treated her more as the catalyst for the others- even if she didn’t have super-powers of her own, the fact the she was willing to go into the same areas as Charles and Calvin made her ever braver by comparison.
The Brain comment is a little unfair- the book came out years before Stephen King, and if it’s a cliche now, isn’t that like saying The Exorcist isn’t a scary movie because we’ve seen dozens of movies and parodies using the same concept?
I would recommend reading the other two books (Calvin’s mother plays an unexpected role in the third book). I thought the third book (A Swiftly Tilting Planet) was the best of the bunch, and hope you’re able to read the others.
I said it wasn’t fair–that too many others have done it since, and I can’t read it the same way.
But the girl being just a catalyst for the men? That’s old school, and it doesn’t make anything better.
I see her special gift as actually her intuition, which comes out even stronger in the second book. Also, I think of Book One as where she learns that she isn’t a child, and she can be stronger than all that. Her greatest weakness becomes her greatest strength: it’s her ability later to choose her emotions and channel them with power and to do that intuitive/kything thing that gives her her own power. She isn’t just a catalyst: she’s the channel by which they have to work. Without her, the men couldn’t do it at all. But like I said, this gets stronger and clearer by the time you’ve read all three books.
I think maybe the other thing as to why I have such a different view than you on this is:
I /am/ a catalyst. For possibly decades, I’ve known that that was my power-to be the catalyst that causes people to do things or transforms them in some way through my presence or pushes people to do things. And it doesn’t seem like a bad thing, and so I can’t see this as a bad thing at all. Even if it’s a catalyst for men.
It’s kind of like in organizing, I think the people who do the behind the scenes work to make the grand public gestures possible are even more to be respected than the people who just show up and are flashy…
A catalyst is fine. But it doesn’t make this amazing protag that I was told I’d find. And if one is a catalyst in real life but only for men, it’s uncomfortable. and that’s not what you do.
Wasn’t there some sort of male magical catalyst that was an awesome protag in some sort of fiction series? Can’t remember. Anyway, I think I see what you’re saying, and you’re definitely right-I catalyze all who come my way and are willing. I thiiiiiiink she catalyzes women too later on in the series, but I can’t be sure-and there definitely is a dearth of female characters overall outside of magictown.
My own $0.11…
Owned the trilogy, read them as a child, loved them. I certainly see where you are coming from with Meg. I guess I always treated her more as the catalyst for the others- even if she didn’t have super-powers of her own, the fact the she was willing to go into the same areas as Charles and Calvin made her ever braver by comparison.
The Brain comment is a little unfair- the book came out years before Stephen King, and if it’s a cliche now, isn’t that like saying The Exorcist isn’t a scary movie because we’ve seen dozens of movies and parodies using the same concept?
I would recommend reading the other two books (Calvin’s mother plays an unexpected role in the third book). I thought the third book (A Swiftly Tilting Planet) was the best of the bunch, and hope you’re able to read the others.
I said it wasn’t fair–that too many others have done it since, and I can’t read it the same way.
But the girl being just a catalyst for the men? That’s old school, and it doesn’t make anything better.
I see her special gift as actually her intuition, which comes out even stronger in the second book. Also, I think of Book One as where she learns that she isn’t a child, and she can be stronger than all that. Her greatest weakness becomes her greatest strength: it’s her ability later to choose her emotions and channel them with power and to do that intuitive/kything thing that gives her her own power. She isn’t just a catalyst: she’s the channel by which they have to work. Without her, the men couldn’t do it at all. But like I said, this gets stronger and clearer by the time you’ve read all three books.
I think maybe the other thing as to why I have such a different view than you on this is:
I /am/ a catalyst. For possibly decades, I’ve known that that was my power-to be the catalyst that causes people to do things or transforms them in some way through my presence or pushes people to do things. And it doesn’t seem like a bad thing, and so I can’t see this as a bad thing at all. Even if it’s a catalyst for men.
It’s kind of like in organizing, I think the people who do the behind the scenes work to make the grand public gestures possible are even more to be respected than the people who just show up and are flashy…
A catalyst is fine. But it doesn’t make this amazing protag that I was told I’d find. And if one is a catalyst in real life but only for men, it’s uncomfortable. and that’s not what you do.
Wasn’t there some sort of male magical catalyst that was an awesome protag in some sort of fiction series? Can’t remember. Anyway, I think I see what you’re saying, and you’re definitely right-I catalyze all who come my way and are willing. I thiiiiiiink she catalyzes women too later on in the series, but I can’t be sure-and there definitely is a dearth of female characters overall outside of magictown.
I really think it’s just one of those things that doesn’t age well. My 2nd grade teacher read it to us in 1982 and it was the most awesome thing ever, but I’ve never reread it since and after reading your post probably won’t.
I agree completely with you.
In 1982, the book was awesome and wonderful and magical. Now, thirty years later, its flaws are more obvious.
Some things don’t age well.
I really think it’s just one of those things that doesn’t age well. My 2nd grade teacher read it to us in 1982 and it was the most awesome thing ever, but I’ve never reread it since and after reading your post probably won’t.
I agree completely with you.
In 1982, the book was awesome and wonderful and magical. Now, thirty years later, its flaws are more obvious.
Some things don’t age well.
I really think it’s just one of those things that doesn’t age well. My 2nd grade teacher read it to us in 1982 and it was the most awesome thing ever, but I’ve never reread it since and after reading your post probably won’t.
I agree completely with you.
In 1982, the book was awesome and wonderful and magical. Now, thirty years later, its flaws are more obvious.
Some things don’t age well.
I really think it’s just one of those things that doesn’t age well. My 2nd grade teacher read it to us in 1982 and it was the most awesome thing ever, but I’ve never reread it since and after reading your post probably won’t.
I agree completely with you.
In 1982, the book was awesome and wonderful and magical. Now, thirty years later, its flaws are more obvious.
Some things don’t age well.
I really think it’s just one of those things that doesn’t age well. My 2nd grade teacher read it to us in 1982 and it was the most awesome thing ever, but I’ve never reread it since and after reading your post probably won’t.
I agree completely with you.
In 1982, the book was awesome and wonderful and magical. Now, thirty years later, its flaws are more obvious.
Some things don’t age well.
This was a book I loved dearly, but have been unable to go back and read it as an adult, because of my fear that the suck fairy visited while I wasn’t looking.
This was a book I loved dearly, but have been unable to go back and read it as an adult, because of my fear that the suck fairy visited while I wasn’t looking.
This was a book I loved dearly, but have been unable to go back and read it as an adult, because of my fear that the suck fairy visited while I wasn’t looking.
This was a book I loved dearly, but have been unable to go back and read it as an adult, because of my fear that the suck fairy visited while I wasn’t looking.
This was a book I loved dearly, but have been unable to go back and read it as an adult, because of my fear that the suck fairy visited while I wasn’t looking.
While I haven’t read any of the books in quite a long time, I remember liking the second and third more: A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I feel like I liked those better because there was something much more explicitly difficult and melancholy about them, whereas in some way I felt like A Wrinkle in Time was supposed to have a more pat happy ending sort of kids’ story thing going on, and yet..and yet. The second and third felt older, and seemed to be more about changing, rather than ‘and our whole point here is to put things back the way they were’. Maybe it was just that at the time I was reading them, the protagonist age of the second and third were hitting the ideal ‘slightly older than the reader’ mark which makes it easier to identify with.
While I haven’t read any of the books in quite a long time, I remember liking the second and third more: A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I feel like I liked those better because there was something much more explicitly difficult and melancholy about them, whereas in some way I felt like A Wrinkle in Time was supposed to have a more pat happy ending sort of kids’ story thing going on, and yet..and yet. The second and third felt older, and seemed to be more about changing, rather than ‘and our whole point here is to put things back the way they were’. Maybe it was just that at the time I was reading them, the protagonist age of the second and third were hitting the ideal ‘slightly older than the reader’ mark which makes it easier to identify with.
While I haven’t read any of the books in quite a long time, I remember liking the second and third more: A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I feel like I liked those better because there was something much more explicitly difficult and melancholy about them, whereas in some way I felt like A Wrinkle in Time was supposed to have a more pat happy ending sort of kids’ story thing going on, and yet..and yet. The second and third felt older, and seemed to be more about changing, rather than ‘and our whole point here is to put things back the way they were’. Maybe it was just that at the time I was reading them, the protagonist age of the second and third were hitting the ideal ‘slightly older than the reader’ mark which makes it easier to identify with.
While I haven’t read any of the books in quite a long time, I remember liking the second and third more: A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I feel like I liked those better because there was something much more explicitly difficult and melancholy about them, whereas in some way I felt like A Wrinkle in Time was supposed to have a more pat happy ending sort of kids’ story thing going on, and yet..and yet. The second and third felt older, and seemed to be more about changing, rather than ‘and our whole point here is to put things back the way they were’. Maybe it was just that at the time I was reading them, the protagonist age of the second and third were hitting the ideal ‘slightly older than the reader’ mark which makes it easier to identify with.
While I haven’t read any of the books in quite a long time, I remember liking the second and third more: A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I feel like I liked those better because there was something much more explicitly difficult and melancholy about them, whereas in some way I felt like A Wrinkle in Time was supposed to have a more pat happy ending sort of kids’ story thing going on, and yet..and yet. The second and third felt older, and seemed to be more about changing, rather than ‘and our whole point here is to put things back the way they were’. Maybe it was just that at the time I was reading them, the protagonist age of the second and third were hitting the ideal ‘slightly older than the reader’ mark which makes it easier to identify with.
This is a book I still re-read every couple of years, usually when life has kicked me in the metaphorical balls. It’s comforting for some of the reasons you describe — the sense of family, of home, of how well Meg fits into that dynamic of her clan of not-exactly-normal people. I adored her as a child (and I’m 29 so I first read this in the early 90s) because I felt I was exactly like her. As I’ve grown up I’ve realized some of its faults, but I still love the book’s charms and nostalgia, and I find it comforting. The best of the series is probably A Swiftly Tilting Planet; it’s got some interesting ideas regarding fate and a lot of frustratingly amazing stuff with Charles Wallace, too.
By the way there is a Disney movie version of Wrinkle, but RUN AWAYYYYY. Never have I wanted to kick a television so badly.
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
This is a book I still re-read every couple of years, usually when life has kicked me in the metaphorical balls. It’s comforting for some of the reasons you describe — the sense of family, of home, of how well Meg fits into that dynamic of her clan of not-exactly-normal people. I adored her as a child (and I’m 29 so I first read this in the early 90s) because I felt I was exactly like her. As I’ve grown up I’ve realized some of its faults, but I still love the book’s charms and nostalgia, and I find it comforting. The best of the series is probably A Swiftly Tilting Planet; it’s got some interesting ideas regarding fate and a lot of frustratingly amazing stuff with Charles Wallace, too.
By the way there is a Disney movie version of Wrinkle, but RUN AWAYYYYY. Never have I wanted to kick a television so badly.
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
This is a book I still re-read every couple of years, usually when life has kicked me in the metaphorical balls. It’s comforting for some of the reasons you describe — the sense of family, of home, of how well Meg fits into that dynamic of her clan of not-exactly-normal people. I adored her as a child (and I’m 29 so I first read this in the early 90s) because I felt I was exactly like her. As I’ve grown up I’ve realized some of its faults, but I still love the book’s charms and nostalgia, and I find it comforting. The best of the series is probably A Swiftly Tilting Planet; it’s got some interesting ideas regarding fate and a lot of frustratingly amazing stuff with Charles Wallace, too.
By the way there is a Disney movie version of Wrinkle, but RUN AWAYYYYY. Never have I wanted to kick a television so badly.
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
This is a book I still re-read every couple of years, usually when life has kicked me in the metaphorical balls. It’s comforting for some of the reasons you describe — the sense of family, of home, of how well Meg fits into that dynamic of her clan of not-exactly-normal people. I adored her as a child (and I’m 29 so I first read this in the early 90s) because I felt I was exactly like her. As I’ve grown up I’ve realized some of its faults, but I still love the book’s charms and nostalgia, and I find it comforting. The best of the series is probably A Swiftly Tilting Planet; it’s got some interesting ideas regarding fate and a lot of frustratingly amazing stuff with Charles Wallace, too.
By the way there is a Disney movie version of Wrinkle, but RUN AWAYYYYY. Never have I wanted to kick a television so badly.
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
This is a book I still re-read every couple of years, usually when life has kicked me in the metaphorical balls. It’s comforting for some of the reasons you describe — the sense of family, of home, of how well Meg fits into that dynamic of her clan of not-exactly-normal people. I adored her as a child (and I’m 29 so I first read this in the early 90s) because I felt I was exactly like her. As I’ve grown up I’ve realized some of its faults, but I still love the book’s charms and nostalgia, and I find it comforting. The best of the series is probably A Swiftly Tilting Planet; it’s got some interesting ideas regarding fate and a lot of frustratingly amazing stuff with Charles Wallace, too.
By the way there is a Disney movie version of Wrinkle, but RUN AWAYYYYY. Never have I wanted to kick a television so badly.
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
Trivia: L’Engle was asked if the Wrinkle in Time movie had “met your expectations,” and said “Yes. I expected it to be bad, and it was.”
I too have never read it. I tried listening to the audiobook a while ago and couldn’t get past the aliens singing Jesus’ praise. Maybe I’ll try the physical book as I can skip such things easier. = ]
PS-And speaking of audiobooks, I have to say you narrated The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland… wonderfully and if you ever feel the inclination to read other books, I for one would buy it based on that fact alone.
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
And I’ll admit. I first read Narnia as an adult and wanted to THROW the books because of the Christianity. (The Space Trilogy wasn’t nearly as bad somehow — it felt more honest.)
I had completely forgotten that there was heavy Christian stuff in the first two books (not sure I read A Swiftly Tilting Planet), but was very struck by (beaten over the head by) it when I read Many Waters, which literally drops the characters right into Biblical stories. I haven’t dared look back at the earlier books since (and your article makes me think that was the right decision).
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
I too have never read it. I tried listening to the audiobook a while ago and couldn’t get past the aliens singing Jesus’ praise. Maybe I’ll try the physical book as I can skip such things easier. = ]
PS-And speaking of audiobooks, I have to say you narrated The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland… wonderfully and if you ever feel the inclination to read other books, I for one would buy it based on that fact alone.
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
And I’ll admit. I first read Narnia as an adult and wanted to THROW the books because of the Christianity. (The Space Trilogy wasn’t nearly as bad somehow — it felt more honest.)
I had completely forgotten that there was heavy Christian stuff in the first two books (not sure I read A Swiftly Tilting Planet), but was very struck by (beaten over the head by) it when I read Many Waters, which literally drops the characters right into Biblical stories. I haven’t dared look back at the earlier books since (and your article makes me think that was the right decision).
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
I too have never read it. I tried listening to the audiobook a while ago and couldn’t get past the aliens singing Jesus’ praise. Maybe I’ll try the physical book as I can skip such things easier. = ]
PS-And speaking of audiobooks, I have to say you narrated The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland… wonderfully and if you ever feel the inclination to read other books, I for one would buy it based on that fact alone.
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
And I’ll admit. I first read Narnia as an adult and wanted to THROW the books because of the Christianity. (The Space Trilogy wasn’t nearly as bad somehow — it felt more honest.)
I had completely forgotten that there was heavy Christian stuff in the first two books (not sure I read A Swiftly Tilting Planet), but was very struck by (beaten over the head by) it when I read Many Waters, which literally drops the characters right into Biblical stories. I haven’t dared look back at the earlier books since (and your article makes me think that was the right decision).
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
I too have never read it. I tried listening to the audiobook a while ago and couldn’t get past the aliens singing Jesus’ praise. Maybe I’ll try the physical book as I can skip such things easier. = ]
PS-And speaking of audiobooks, I have to say you narrated The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland… wonderfully and if you ever feel the inclination to read other books, I for one would buy it based on that fact alone.
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
And I’ll admit. I first read Narnia as an adult and wanted to THROW the books because of the Christianity. (The Space Trilogy wasn’t nearly as bad somehow — it felt more honest.)
I had completely forgotten that there was heavy Christian stuff in the first two books (not sure I read A Swiftly Tilting Planet), but was very struck by (beaten over the head by) it when I read Many Waters, which literally drops the characters right into Biblical stories. I haven’t dared look back at the earlier books since (and your article makes me think that was the right decision).
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
I too have never read it. I tried listening to the audiobook a while ago and couldn’t get past the aliens singing Jesus’ praise. Maybe I’ll try the physical book as I can skip such things easier. = ]
PS-And speaking of audiobooks, I have to say you narrated The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland… wonderfully and if you ever feel the inclination to read other books, I for one would buy it based on that fact alone.
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
And I’ll admit. I first read Narnia as an adult and wanted to THROW the books because of the Christianity. (The Space Trilogy wasn’t nearly as bad somehow — it felt more honest.)
I had completely forgotten that there was heavy Christian stuff in the first two books (not sure I read A Swiftly Tilting Planet), but was very struck by (beaten over the head by) it when I read Many Waters, which literally drops the characters right into Biblical stories. I haven’t dared look back at the earlier books since (and your article makes me think that was the right decision).
Aw, thank you!
And yeah, the Jesus stuff is really bald and out there, as opposed to mildly metaphorized in Narnia. I have trouble with explicitly Christian books (as opposed to other faiths) because they treat it as obviously the Facts of the Universe, not as part of the fiction, and frankly I live in a world where people are always trying to convince me of those Facts. It’s the ultimate insider art, and it always feels awkward and didactic to me. Because we’re traveling in space! But Jesus is here so you should be aware it’s not entirely fiction?
I did not read this as a kid either. I read it as an adult and I remember being annoyed by Meg’s temper tantrums, too, and wanting more out of the ending.
Maybe if I had read it when I was younger I would have had the love for it that you describe people having, but as it is, it’s not for me.
I did not read this as a kid either. I read it as an adult and I remember being annoyed by Meg’s temper tantrums, too, and wanting more out of the ending.
Maybe if I had read it when I was younger I would have had the love for it that you describe people having, but as it is, it’s not for me.
I did not read this as a kid either. I read it as an adult and I remember being annoyed by Meg’s temper tantrums, too, and wanting more out of the ending.
Maybe if I had read it when I was younger I would have had the love for it that you describe people having, but as it is, it’s not for me.
I did not read this as a kid either. I read it as an adult and I remember being annoyed by Meg’s temper tantrums, too, and wanting more out of the ending.
Maybe if I had read it when I was younger I would have had the love for it that you describe people having, but as it is, it’s not for me.
I did not read this as a kid either. I read it as an adult and I remember being annoyed by Meg’s temper tantrums, too, and wanting more out of the ending.
Maybe if I had read it when I was younger I would have had the love for it that you describe people having, but as it is, it’s not for me.
Than you for putting into words the things I couldn’t quite put my finger on about Meg — I’ve owned the whole series for ages and this book always seemed skewed for me. I did really enjoy the second one, A Wind In The Door — it spurred my fascination with biology and genetics — but again Meg is relegated to the role of “loving the male characters.” In the second book, Charles Wallace becomes deathly ill, his mitochonrdia and oxygen levels are involved, and somehow his life is tied to everyone else’s, and there are all sorts of powerful male characters… Meg’s role is strong, but still… she saves the world with love. Like, literally, she wraps her arms around the universe (Charles Wallace, reminiscent of Fantastic Voyage and loves everything.
A Swiftly Tilting Planet has Meg in a role that was kind of iffy for me. She’s pregnant and her doctor brother wants her to stay in bed. But she telepathically travels with Charles Wallace on his time-traveling adventures in which he leaps into people’s bodies, and she does save his life a few times, but again, she always seems to be The Lover Of All The Men. I dunno.
Than you for putting into words the things I couldn’t quite put my finger on about Meg — I’ve owned the whole series for ages and this book always seemed skewed for me. I did really enjoy the second one, A Wind In The Door — it spurred my fascination with biology and genetics — but again Meg is relegated to the role of “loving the male characters.” In the second book, Charles Wallace becomes deathly ill, his mitochonrdia and oxygen levels are involved, and somehow his life is tied to everyone else’s, and there are all sorts of powerful male characters… Meg’s role is strong, but still… she saves the world with love. Like, literally, she wraps her arms around the universe (Charles Wallace, reminiscent of Fantastic Voyage and loves everything.
A Swiftly Tilting Planet has Meg in a role that was kind of iffy for me. She’s pregnant and her doctor brother wants her to stay in bed. But she telepathically travels with Charles Wallace on his time-traveling adventures in which he leaps into people’s bodies, and she does save his life a few times, but again, she always seems to be The Lover Of All The Men. I dunno.
Than you for putting into words the things I couldn’t quite put my finger on about Meg — I’ve owned the whole series for ages and this book always seemed skewed for me. I did really enjoy the second one, A Wind In The Door — it spurred my fascination with biology and genetics — but again Meg is relegated to the role of “loving the male characters.” In the second book, Charles Wallace becomes deathly ill, his mitochonrdia and oxygen levels are involved, and somehow his life is tied to everyone else’s, and there are all sorts of powerful male characters… Meg’s role is strong, but still… she saves the world with love. Like, literally, she wraps her arms around the universe (Charles Wallace, reminiscent of Fantastic Voyage and loves everything.
A Swiftly Tilting Planet has Meg in a role that was kind of iffy for me. She’s pregnant and her doctor brother wants her to stay in bed. But she telepathically travels with Charles Wallace on his time-traveling adventures in which he leaps into people’s bodies, and she does save his life a few times, but again, she always seems to be The Lover Of All The Men. I dunno.
Than you for putting into words the things I couldn’t quite put my finger on about Meg — I’ve owned the whole series for ages and this book always seemed skewed for me. I did really enjoy the second one, A Wind In The Door — it spurred my fascination with biology and genetics — but again Meg is relegated to the role of “loving the male characters.” In the second book, Charles Wallace becomes deathly ill, his mitochonrdia and oxygen levels are involved, and somehow his life is tied to everyone else’s, and there are all sorts of powerful male characters… Meg’s role is strong, but still… she saves the world with love. Like, literally, she wraps her arms around the universe (Charles Wallace, reminiscent of Fantastic Voyage and loves everything.
A Swiftly Tilting Planet has Meg in a role that was kind of iffy for me. She’s pregnant and her doctor brother wants her to stay in bed. But she telepathically travels with Charles Wallace on his time-traveling adventures in which he leaps into people’s bodies, and she does save his life a few times, but again, she always seems to be The Lover Of All The Men. I dunno.
Than you for putting into words the things I couldn’t quite put my finger on about Meg — I’ve owned the whole series for ages and this book always seemed skewed for me. I did really enjoy the second one, A Wind In The Door — it spurred my fascination with biology and genetics — but again Meg is relegated to the role of “loving the male characters.” In the second book, Charles Wallace becomes deathly ill, his mitochonrdia and oxygen levels are involved, and somehow his life is tied to everyone else’s, and there are all sorts of powerful male characters… Meg’s role is strong, but still… she saves the world with love. Like, literally, she wraps her arms around the universe (Charles Wallace, reminiscent of Fantastic Voyage and loves everything.
A Swiftly Tilting Planet has Meg in a role that was kind of iffy for me. She’s pregnant and her doctor brother wants her to stay in bed. But she telepathically travels with Charles Wallace on his time-traveling adventures in which he leaps into people’s bodies, and she does save his life a few times, but again, she always seems to be The Lover Of All The Men. I dunno.
I loved the series and in many ways I identified w/Meg as I felt I was the ‘normal/average’ one in my family. I love the concepts and ideas in A Wind in the Door the most. I have some issues w/how some things are presented in A Swiftly Tilting Planet(Native American presentation), which when it was written was some of the most enlightened reps in pop ya fiction(1978). I still use some of the concepts presented in Door as very sensible, for if we and our universe are not interdependent, then it doesn’t make sense to me. Just babbling
I also listened to the radio play and that was well done, especially the Happy Medium! I don’t know why, but YA fiction has had more of an impact on me than a lot of other things. Joan Aiken, L’Engle, Diane Duane, hmmm, female writers with strong female leads, maybe that is the theme,
I loved the series and in many ways I identified w/Meg as I felt I was the ‘normal/average’ one in my family. I love the concepts and ideas in A Wind in the Door the most. I have some issues w/how some things are presented in A Swiftly Tilting Planet(Native American presentation), which when it was written was some of the most enlightened reps in pop ya fiction(1978). I still use some of the concepts presented in Door as very sensible, for if we and our universe are not interdependent, then it doesn’t make sense to me. Just babbling
I also listened to the radio play and that was well done, especially the Happy Medium! I don’t know why, but YA fiction has had more of an impact on me than a lot of other things. Joan Aiken, L’Engle, Diane Duane, hmmm, female writers with strong female leads, maybe that is the theme,
I loved the series and in many ways I identified w/Meg as I felt I was the ‘normal/average’ one in my family. I love the concepts and ideas in A Wind in the Door the most. I have some issues w/how some things are presented in A Swiftly Tilting Planet(Native American presentation), which when it was written was some of the most enlightened reps in pop ya fiction(1978). I still use some of the concepts presented in Door as very sensible, for if we and our universe are not interdependent, then it doesn’t make sense to me. Just babbling
I also listened to the radio play and that was well done, especially the Happy Medium! I don’t know why, but YA fiction has had more of an impact on me than a lot of other things. Joan Aiken, L’Engle, Diane Duane, hmmm, female writers with strong female leads, maybe that is the theme,
I loved the series and in many ways I identified w/Meg as I felt I was the ‘normal/average’ one in my family. I love the concepts and ideas in A Wind in the Door the most. I have some issues w/how some things are presented in A Swiftly Tilting Planet(Native American presentation), which when it was written was some of the most enlightened reps in pop ya fiction(1978). I still use some of the concepts presented in Door as very sensible, for if we and our universe are not interdependent, then it doesn’t make sense to me. Just babbling
I also listened to the radio play and that was well done, especially the Happy Medium! I don’t know why, but YA fiction has had more of an impact on me than a lot of other things. Joan Aiken, L’Engle, Diane Duane, hmmm, female writers with strong female leads, maybe that is the theme,
I loved the series and in many ways I identified w/Meg as I felt I was the ‘normal/average’ one in my family. I love the concepts and ideas in A Wind in the Door the most. I have some issues w/how some things are presented in A Swiftly Tilting Planet(Native American presentation), which when it was written was some of the most enlightened reps in pop ya fiction(1978). I still use some of the concepts presented in Door as very sensible, for if we and our universe are not interdependent, then it doesn’t make sense to me. Just babbling
I also listened to the radio play and that was well done, especially the Happy Medium! I don’t know why, but YA fiction has had more of an impact on me than a lot of other things. Joan Aiken, L’Engle, Diane Duane, hmmm, female writers with strong female leads, maybe that is the theme,
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I get this with a lot of children’s classics, as well as some adult genre stuff that wasn’t published in the UK (Bordertown, for instance, feels very much like it belongs to all the people who enjoyed it in the past, but idk if that’s just because I’m going through a big phase of I Do Not Belong Anywhere). This is a wonderful, achy way of describing that feeling.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I get this with a lot of children’s classics, as well as some adult genre stuff that wasn’t published in the UK (Bordertown, for instance, feels very much like it belongs to all the people who enjoyed it in the past, but idk if that’s just because I’m going through a big phase of I Do Not Belong Anywhere). This is a wonderful, achy way of describing that feeling.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I get this with a lot of children’s classics, as well as some adult genre stuff that wasn’t published in the UK (Bordertown, for instance, feels very much like it belongs to all the people who enjoyed it in the past, but idk if that’s just because I’m going through a big phase of I Do Not Belong Anywhere). This is a wonderful, achy way of describing that feeling.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I get this with a lot of children’s classics, as well as some adult genre stuff that wasn’t published in the UK (Bordertown, for instance, feels very much like it belongs to all the people who enjoyed it in the past, but idk if that’s just because I’m going through a big phase of I Do Not Belong Anywhere). This is a wonderful, achy way of describing that feeling.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I get this with a lot of children’s classics, as well as some adult genre stuff that wasn’t published in the UK (Bordertown, for instance, feels very much like it belongs to all the people who enjoyed it in the past, but idk if that’s just because I’m going through a big phase of I Do Not Belong Anywhere). This is a wonderful, achy way of describing that feeling.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I feel this way about a lot of things, Wrinkle of Time among them, because I’ve never read it either.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I feel this way about a lot of things, Wrinkle of Time among them, because I’ve never read it either.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I feel this way about a lot of things, Wrinkle of Time among them, because I’ve never read it either.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I feel this way about a lot of things, Wrinkle of Time among them, because I’ve never read it either.
I feel like I have missed a beautiful and moon-colored train where all the other children can shriek in delight and trade tales of tessering, leaving me to stand on the platform mumbling “But…”
I feel this way about a lot of things, Wrinkle of Time among them, because I’ve never read it either.
I’d leave the other books alone. I read this young enough and loved it so much that I was able to handwave the gender issues that bothered me even on a first reading, even as a child circa the late 60s/early 70s. The sequels, especially the last ones, enraged me. As far as I recall, Meg ends up as a housewife.
Oh, of course she does. *facepalm*
In the Arm of the Starfish I think she’s a Scientist along with Calvin, & does the combo mom/scientist thing Mrs Murray did, though my memory may be faulty.
I think you’re right.
I’d leave the other books alone. I read this young enough and loved it so much that I was able to handwave the gender issues that bothered me even on a first reading, even as a child circa the late 60s/early 70s. The sequels, especially the last ones, enraged me. As far as I recall, Meg ends up as a housewife.
Oh, of course she does. *facepalm*
In the Arm of the Starfish I think she’s a Scientist along with Calvin, & does the combo mom/scientist thing Mrs Murray did, though my memory may be faulty.
I think you’re right.
I’d leave the other books alone. I read this young enough and loved it so much that I was able to handwave the gender issues that bothered me even on a first reading, even as a child circa the late 60s/early 70s. The sequels, especially the last ones, enraged me. As far as I recall, Meg ends up as a housewife.
Oh, of course she does. *facepalm*
In the Arm of the Starfish I think she’s a Scientist along with Calvin, & does the combo mom/scientist thing Mrs Murray did, though my memory may be faulty.
I think you’re right.
I’d leave the other books alone. I read this young enough and loved it so much that I was able to handwave the gender issues that bothered me even on a first reading, even as a child circa the late 60s/early 70s. The sequels, especially the last ones, enraged me. As far as I recall, Meg ends up as a housewife.
Oh, of course she does. *facepalm*
In the Arm of the Starfish I think she’s a Scientist along with Calvin, & does the combo mom/scientist thing Mrs Murray did, though my memory may be faulty.
I think you’re right.
I’d leave the other books alone. I read this young enough and loved it so much that I was able to handwave the gender issues that bothered me even on a first reading, even as a child circa the late 60s/early 70s. The sequels, especially the last ones, enraged me. As far as I recall, Meg ends up as a housewife.
Oh, of course she does. *facepalm*
In the Arm of the Starfish I think she’s a Scientist along with Calvin, & does the combo mom/scientist thing Mrs Murray did, though my memory may be faulty.
I think you’re right.
I loved those books but also largely agree with you. It’s very much a product of its time and while it isn’t quite as good with female characters as Andre Norton’s fiction of the early 60s, but is also well better than anything else I’ve seen from that era.
I noticed the religion as a kid and rereading it as an adult, but I also found it relatively non-problematic, as opposed to attempting Lewis’ Narnia series and his Space Trilogy, the first of which had religious stuff that deeply horrified me when I attempted to reread it as an adult, and the second of which horrified me as a teen. At least from my own PoV, I found it deeply Christian, but also not remotely vile or annoying about it.
Once again, it’s a book that is now old enough to be a bit strange, which in part is simply the wonderful fact that our own world is very different in many positive ways from the world of 1962.
At least in Narnia it’s under cloak of metaphor, and I can ignore it.
For me, the main issue is that if most Christians had beliefs that looked more like those expressed in this novel, I’d have a heck of a lot less problem with most Christians, and think that the US would be in a far better place, while the exact opposite is true for Lewis and the Christianity he puts into Narnia.
Back to sexism, I just had a very odd realization, Mrs. Murry is definitely a highly problematic character, but she’s not a 60s or 70s stereotype, she’s the classic 80s mass-media super-mom stereotype, a working scientist who is also beautiful and an ideal mom. Definitely a toxic stereotype, but also considerably less bad than how almost any similar characters were portrayed anytime in the 1960s.
I loved those books but also largely agree with you. It’s very much a product of its time and while it isn’t quite as good with female characters as Andre Norton’s fiction of the early 60s, but is also well better than anything else I’ve seen from that era.
I noticed the religion as a kid and rereading it as an adult, but I also found it relatively non-problematic, as opposed to attempting Lewis’ Narnia series and his Space Trilogy, the first of which had religious stuff that deeply horrified me when I attempted to reread it as an adult, and the second of which horrified me as a teen. At least from my own PoV, I found it deeply Christian, but also not remotely vile or annoying about it.
Once again, it’s a book that is now old enough to be a bit strange, which in part is simply the wonderful fact that our own world is very different in many positive ways from the world of 1962.
At least in Narnia it’s under cloak of metaphor, and I can ignore it.
For me, the main issue is that if most Christians had beliefs that looked more like those expressed in this novel, I’d have a heck of a lot less problem with most Christians, and think that the US would be in a far better place, while the exact opposite is true for Lewis and the Christianity he puts into Narnia.
Back to sexism, I just had a very odd realization, Mrs. Murry is definitely a highly problematic character, but she’s not a 60s or 70s stereotype, she’s the classic 80s mass-media super-mom stereotype, a working scientist who is also beautiful and an ideal mom. Definitely a toxic stereotype, but also considerably less bad than how almost any similar characters were portrayed anytime in the 1960s.
I loved those books but also largely agree with you. It’s very much a product of its time and while it isn’t quite as good with female characters as Andre Norton’s fiction of the early 60s, but is also well better than anything else I’ve seen from that era.
I noticed the religion as a kid and rereading it as an adult, but I also found it relatively non-problematic, as opposed to attempting Lewis’ Narnia series and his Space Trilogy, the first of which had religious stuff that deeply horrified me when I attempted to reread it as an adult, and the second of which horrified me as a teen. At least from my own PoV, I found it deeply Christian, but also not remotely vile or annoying about it.
Once again, it’s a book that is now old enough to be a bit strange, which in part is simply the wonderful fact that our own world is very different in many positive ways from the world of 1962.
At least in Narnia it’s under cloak of metaphor, and I can ignore it.
For me, the main issue is that if most Christians had beliefs that looked more like those expressed in this novel, I’d have a heck of a lot less problem with most Christians, and think that the US would be in a far better place, while the exact opposite is true for Lewis and the Christianity he puts into Narnia.
Back to sexism, I just had a very odd realization, Mrs. Murry is definitely a highly problematic character, but she’s not a 60s or 70s stereotype, she’s the classic 80s mass-media super-mom stereotype, a working scientist who is also beautiful and an ideal mom. Definitely a toxic stereotype, but also considerably less bad than how almost any similar characters were portrayed anytime in the 1960s.
I loved those books but also largely agree with you. It’s very much a product of its time and while it isn’t quite as good with female characters as Andre Norton’s fiction of the early 60s, but is also well better than anything else I’ve seen from that era.
I noticed the religion as a kid and rereading it as an adult, but I also found it relatively non-problematic, as opposed to attempting Lewis’ Narnia series and his Space Trilogy, the first of which had religious stuff that deeply horrified me when I attempted to reread it as an adult, and the second of which horrified me as a teen. At least from my own PoV, I found it deeply Christian, but also not remotely vile or annoying about it.
Once again, it’s a book that is now old enough to be a bit strange, which in part is simply the wonderful fact that our own world is very different in many positive ways from the world of 1962.
At least in Narnia it’s under cloak of metaphor, and I can ignore it.
For me, the main issue is that if most Christians had beliefs that looked more like those expressed in this novel, I’d have a heck of a lot less problem with most Christians, and think that the US would be in a far better place, while the exact opposite is true for Lewis and the Christianity he puts into Narnia.
Back to sexism, I just had a very odd realization, Mrs. Murry is definitely a highly problematic character, but she’s not a 60s or 70s stereotype, she’s the classic 80s mass-media super-mom stereotype, a working scientist who is also beautiful and an ideal mom. Definitely a toxic stereotype, but also considerably less bad than how almost any similar characters were portrayed anytime in the 1960s.
I loved those books but also largely agree with you. It’s very much a product of its time and while it isn’t quite as good with female characters as Andre Norton’s fiction of the early 60s, but is also well better than anything else I’ve seen from that era.
I noticed the religion as a kid and rereading it as an adult, but I also found it relatively non-problematic, as opposed to attempting Lewis’ Narnia series and his Space Trilogy, the first of which had religious stuff that deeply horrified me when I attempted to reread it as an adult, and the second of which horrified me as a teen. At least from my own PoV, I found it deeply Christian, but also not remotely vile or annoying about it.
Once again, it’s a book that is now old enough to be a bit strange, which in part is simply the wonderful fact that our own world is very different in many positive ways from the world of 1962.
At least in Narnia it’s under cloak of metaphor, and I can ignore it.
For me, the main issue is that if most Christians had beliefs that looked more like those expressed in this novel, I’d have a heck of a lot less problem with most Christians, and think that the US would be in a far better place, while the exact opposite is true for Lewis and the Christianity he puts into Narnia.
Back to sexism, I just had a very odd realization, Mrs. Murry is definitely a highly problematic character, but she’s not a 60s or 70s stereotype, she’s the classic 80s mass-media super-mom stereotype, a working scientist who is also beautiful and an ideal mom. Definitely a toxic stereotype, but also considerably less bad than how almost any similar characters were portrayed anytime in the 1960s.
I read it in that sweet spot age-wise. Or what should’ve been. I actually found myself more compelled by the one where her twin brothers go hang out with Noah.
I fail as a geek girl.
Though it’s possible it was too religious for me. I had real trouble reading books invoking Christianity that weren’t, like, the Bible. Because I kept wondering if it was bad that I was reading them and what exactly is the author trying to convince me of and is this evil? (Felt that way for sure about OSC’s Seventh Son books.)
I liked the Noah one, too. I still want a wee tiny woolly mammoth.
Yeah, I liked the Noah one too.
I read it in that sweet spot age-wise. Or what should’ve been. I actually found myself more compelled by the one where her twin brothers go hang out with Noah.
I fail as a geek girl.
Though it’s possible it was too religious for me. I had real trouble reading books invoking Christianity that weren’t, like, the Bible. Because I kept wondering if it was bad that I was reading them and what exactly is the author trying to convince me of and is this evil? (Felt that way for sure about OSC’s Seventh Son books.)
I liked the Noah one, too. I still want a wee tiny woolly mammoth.
Yeah, I liked the Noah one too.
I read it in that sweet spot age-wise. Or what should’ve been. I actually found myself more compelled by the one where her twin brothers go hang out with Noah.
I fail as a geek girl.
Though it’s possible it was too religious for me. I had real trouble reading books invoking Christianity that weren’t, like, the Bible. Because I kept wondering if it was bad that I was reading them and what exactly is the author trying to convince me of and is this evil? (Felt that way for sure about OSC’s Seventh Son books.)
I liked the Noah one, too. I still want a wee tiny woolly mammoth.
Yeah, I liked the Noah one too.
I read it in that sweet spot age-wise. Or what should’ve been. I actually found myself more compelled by the one where her twin brothers go hang out with Noah.
I fail as a geek girl.
Though it’s possible it was too religious for me. I had real trouble reading books invoking Christianity that weren’t, like, the Bible. Because I kept wondering if it was bad that I was reading them and what exactly is the author trying to convince me of and is this evil? (Felt that way for sure about OSC’s Seventh Son books.)
I liked the Noah one, too. I still want a wee tiny woolly mammoth.
Yeah, I liked the Noah one too.
I read it in that sweet spot age-wise. Or what should’ve been. I actually found myself more compelled by the one where her twin brothers go hang out with Noah.
I fail as a geek girl.
Though it’s possible it was too religious for me. I had real trouble reading books invoking Christianity that weren’t, like, the Bible. Because I kept wondering if it was bad that I was reading them and what exactly is the author trying to convince me of and is this evil? (Felt that way for sure about OSC’s Seventh Son books.)
I liked the Noah one, too. I still want a wee tiny woolly mammoth.
Yeah, I liked the Noah one too.
I was another kid obsessed with WiT and MLE’s work; it got me through a rough childhood. I think what I loved most about the book was it treated me — the kid reader — with respect. She didn’t translate Mrs. Which’s quotes; she expected me to get the concept of tessering. But I agree with your criticisms: it doesn’t age well. MLE was also a devout Episcopalian and wrote a lot of theological musings, so I see her fiction as really being about her exploring her faith. I can’t read it these days, but there was a time when it was important to me.
Oh, and stay away from The Small Rain and A House Like a Lotus. Homophobia fail like whoa. As an incredibly repressed teenage lesbian, I really didn’t need my first literary encounter with dykes to be alcoholic predators.
She does translate them though?
Oh you’re right! I was remembering the Greek letters printed in the book. 9 year old me had never seen Greek and was very impressed — made me feel like such a grown-up!
Oh no. I’m glad I stopped reading her stuff long before I found those books.
I was another kid obsessed with WiT and MLE’s work; it got me through a rough childhood. I think what I loved most about the book was it treated me — the kid reader — with respect. She didn’t translate Mrs. Which’s quotes; she expected me to get the concept of tessering. But I agree with your criticisms: it doesn’t age well. MLE was also a devout Episcopalian and wrote a lot of theological musings, so I see her fiction as really being about her exploring her faith. I can’t read it these days, but there was a time when it was important to me.
Oh, and stay away from The Small Rain and A House Like a Lotus. Homophobia fail like whoa. As an incredibly repressed teenage lesbian, I really didn’t need my first literary encounter with dykes to be alcoholic predators.
She does translate them though?
Oh you’re right! I was remembering the Greek letters printed in the book. 9 year old me had never seen Greek and was very impressed — made me feel like such a grown-up!
Oh no. I’m glad I stopped reading her stuff long before I found those books.
I was another kid obsessed with WiT and MLE’s work; it got me through a rough childhood. I think what I loved most about the book was it treated me — the kid reader — with respect. She didn’t translate Mrs. Which’s quotes; she expected me to get the concept of tessering. But I agree with your criticisms: it doesn’t age well. MLE was also a devout Episcopalian and wrote a lot of theological musings, so I see her fiction as really being about her exploring her faith. I can’t read it these days, but there was a time when it was important to me.
Oh, and stay away from The Small Rain and A House Like a Lotus. Homophobia fail like whoa. As an incredibly repressed teenage lesbian, I really didn’t need my first literary encounter with dykes to be alcoholic predators.
She does translate them though?
Oh you’re right! I was remembering the Greek letters printed in the book. 9 year old me had never seen Greek and was very impressed — made me feel like such a grown-up!
Oh no. I’m glad I stopped reading her stuff long before I found those books.
I was another kid obsessed with WiT and MLE’s work; it got me through a rough childhood. I think what I loved most about the book was it treated me — the kid reader — with respect. She didn’t translate Mrs. Which’s quotes; she expected me to get the concept of tessering. But I agree with your criticisms: it doesn’t age well. MLE was also a devout Episcopalian and wrote a lot of theological musings, so I see her fiction as really being about her exploring her faith. I can’t read it these days, but there was a time when it was important to me.
Oh, and stay away from The Small Rain and A House Like a Lotus. Homophobia fail like whoa. As an incredibly repressed teenage lesbian, I really didn’t need my first literary encounter with dykes to be alcoholic predators.
She does translate them though?
Oh you’re right! I was remembering the Greek letters printed in the book. 9 year old me had never seen Greek and was very impressed — made me feel like such a grown-up!
Oh no. I’m glad I stopped reading her stuff long before I found those books.
I was another kid obsessed with WiT and MLE’s work; it got me through a rough childhood. I think what I loved most about the book was it treated me — the kid reader — with respect. She didn’t translate Mrs. Which’s quotes; she expected me to get the concept of tessering. But I agree with your criticisms: it doesn’t age well. MLE was also a devout Episcopalian and wrote a lot of theological musings, so I see her fiction as really being about her exploring her faith. I can’t read it these days, but there was a time when it was important to me.
Oh, and stay away from The Small Rain and A House Like a Lotus. Homophobia fail like whoa. As an incredibly repressed teenage lesbian, I really didn’t need my first literary encounter with dykes to be alcoholic predators.
She does translate them though?
Oh you’re right! I was remembering the Greek letters printed in the book. 9 year old me had never seen Greek and was very impressed — made me feel like such a grown-up!
Oh no. I’m glad I stopped reading her stuff long before I found those books.
I found Wrinkle in Time to be boring and kind of annoying. Granted, I read it when I was twenty. If I’d read it at age nine, I probably would have liked it a whole lot better.
I prefer A Swiftly Tilting Planet (despite the god-god-god and the seriously Noble Savage thing going on with the People of the Wind) by a significant margin. I read that when I was about fourteen, and I still like bits of it.
I really enjoyed An Acceptable Time, which is about one of Meg’s daughters. It involves Traveling To Pre-History, and probably has more Questionable Stuff (re: gender and/or race) than I remember. I read it when I was 17 and haven’t acually seen it since. I recall there being less of the god-god-god thing going on in that one, though I could be wrong.
I found Wrinkle in Time to be boring and kind of annoying. Granted, I read it when I was twenty. If I’d read it at age nine, I probably would have liked it a whole lot better.
I prefer A Swiftly Tilting Planet (despite the god-god-god and the seriously Noble Savage thing going on with the People of the Wind) by a significant margin. I read that when I was about fourteen, and I still like bits of it.
I really enjoyed An Acceptable Time, which is about one of Meg’s daughters. It involves Traveling To Pre-History, and probably has more Questionable Stuff (re: gender and/or race) than I remember. I read it when I was 17 and haven’t acually seen it since. I recall there being less of the god-god-god thing going on in that one, though I could be wrong.
I found Wrinkle in Time to be boring and kind of annoying. Granted, I read it when I was twenty. If I’d read it at age nine, I probably would have liked it a whole lot better.
I prefer A Swiftly Tilting Planet (despite the god-god-god and the seriously Noble Savage thing going on with the People of the Wind) by a significant margin. I read that when I was about fourteen, and I still like bits of it.
I really enjoyed An Acceptable Time, which is about one of Meg’s daughters. It involves Traveling To Pre-History, and probably has more Questionable Stuff (re: gender and/or race) than I remember. I read it when I was 17 and haven’t acually seen it since. I recall there being less of the god-god-god thing going on in that one, though I could be wrong.
I found Wrinkle in Time to be boring and kind of annoying. Granted, I read it when I was twenty. If I’d read it at age nine, I probably would have liked it a whole lot better.
I prefer A Swiftly Tilting Planet (despite the god-god-god and the seriously Noble Savage thing going on with the People of the Wind) by a significant margin. I read that when I was about fourteen, and I still like bits of it.
I really enjoyed An Acceptable Time, which is about one of Meg’s daughters. It involves Traveling To Pre-History, and probably has more Questionable Stuff (re: gender and/or race) than I remember. I read it when I was 17 and haven’t acually seen it since. I recall there being less of the god-god-god thing going on in that one, though I could be wrong.
I found Wrinkle in Time to be boring and kind of annoying. Granted, I read it when I was twenty. If I’d read it at age nine, I probably would have liked it a whole lot better.
I prefer A Swiftly Tilting Planet (despite the god-god-god and the seriously Noble Savage thing going on with the People of the Wind) by a significant margin. I read that when I was about fourteen, and I still like bits of it.
I really enjoyed An Acceptable Time, which is about one of Meg’s daughters. It involves Traveling To Pre-History, and probably has more Questionable Stuff (re: gender and/or race) than I remember. I read it when I was 17 and haven’t acually seen it since. I recall there being less of the god-god-god thing going on in that one, though I could be wrong.
As for the brain thing. It was a giant brain? I have no memory of that. And I reread the book a few years ago!
I just have an impression of ‘Meg confronts this big evil thing and wows it with rhetoric of some sort. Or maybe it was math.’
Nope. Love. That was what she did. Say I love you to her brother.
As for the brain thing. It was a giant brain? I have no memory of that. And I reread the book a few years ago!
I just have an impression of ‘Meg confronts this big evil thing and wows it with rhetoric of some sort. Or maybe it was math.’
Nope. Love. That was what she did. Say I love you to her brother.
As for the brain thing. It was a giant brain? I have no memory of that. And I reread the book a few years ago!
I just have an impression of ‘Meg confronts this big evil thing and wows it with rhetoric of some sort. Or maybe it was math.’
Nope. Love. That was what she did. Say I love you to her brother.
As for the brain thing. It was a giant brain? I have no memory of that. And I reread the book a few years ago!
I just have an impression of ‘Meg confronts this big evil thing and wows it with rhetoric of some sort. Or maybe it was math.’
Nope. Love. That was what she did. Say I love you to her brother.
As for the brain thing. It was a giant brain? I have no memory of that. And I reread the book a few years ago!
I just have an impression of ‘Meg confronts this big evil thing and wows it with rhetoric of some sort. Or maybe it was math.’
Nope. Love. That was what she did. Say I love you to her brother.
I’m on the never read it train – I tried once and couldn’t get into it. It is rare for me to give up on a book – some part keeps thinking it HAS to get better. So thank you for this post, as now I don’t feel so guilty about not loving a beloved children’s classic!
I’m on the never read it train – I tried once and couldn’t get into it. It is rare for me to give up on a book – some part keeps thinking it HAS to get better. So thank you for this post, as now I don’t feel so guilty about not loving a beloved children’s classic!
I’m on the never read it train – I tried once and couldn’t get into it. It is rare for me to give up on a book – some part keeps thinking it HAS to get better. So thank you for this post, as now I don’t feel so guilty about not loving a beloved children’s classic!
I’m on the never read it train – I tried once and couldn’t get into it. It is rare for me to give up on a book – some part keeps thinking it HAS to get better. So thank you for this post, as now I don’t feel so guilty about not loving a beloved children’s classic!
I’m on the never read it train – I tried once and couldn’t get into it. It is rare for me to give up on a book – some part keeps thinking it HAS to get better. So thank you for this post, as now I don’t feel so guilty about not loving a beloved children’s classic!
Can I just tell you what a relief it is to read a dissenting opinion on this book? Because I read it for the first time 5 or 6 years ago and Did Not Like It. And because it is such a Beloved Classic, as you say, it can be very alienating to be the person in the room who doesn’t get it. It sounds like you liked it more than I did, but I appreciate you opening the door to a little bit of discussion.
I had some of the same issues you had, but my central problem, the one that I think made it impossible for me to like the book, was that I disliked Charles Wallace very much. I find him skin-crawlingly creepy. It’s the Jesus thing, in part, but there’s something beyond that–I don’t like idealization, I guess, and I don’t trust it. There is something Wrong about that character.
I adored him at first–I love precocious kids because I was one, very verbal at an early age, etc. And how solicitous and loving he was toward his sister. But later he becomes much more annoying and less relatable to me, just this magic jesus thing that had no personality.
Can I just tell you what a relief it is to read a dissenting opinion on this book? Because I read it for the first time 5 or 6 years ago and Did Not Like It. And because it is such a Beloved Classic, as you say, it can be very alienating to be the person in the room who doesn’t get it. It sounds like you liked it more than I did, but I appreciate you opening the door to a little bit of discussion.
I had some of the same issues you had, but my central problem, the one that I think made it impossible for me to like the book, was that I disliked Charles Wallace very much. I find him skin-crawlingly creepy. It’s the Jesus thing, in part, but there’s something beyond that–I don’t like idealization, I guess, and I don’t trust it. There is something Wrong about that character.
I adored him at first–I love precocious kids because I was one, very verbal at an early age, etc. And how solicitous and loving he was toward his sister. But later he becomes much more annoying and less relatable to me, just this magic jesus thing that had no personality.
Can I just tell you what a relief it is to read a dissenting opinion on this book? Because I read it for the first time 5 or 6 years ago and Did Not Like It. And because it is such a Beloved Classic, as you say, it can be very alienating to be the person in the room who doesn’t get it. It sounds like you liked it more than I did, but I appreciate you opening the door to a little bit of discussion.
I had some of the same issues you had, but my central problem, the one that I think made it impossible for me to like the book, was that I disliked Charles Wallace very much. I find him skin-crawlingly creepy. It’s the Jesus thing, in part, but there’s something beyond that–I don’t like idealization, I guess, and I don’t trust it. There is something Wrong about that character.
I adored him at first–I love precocious kids because I was one, very verbal at an early age, etc. And how solicitous and loving he was toward his sister. But later he becomes much more annoying and less relatable to me, just this magic jesus thing that had no personality.
Can I just tell you what a relief it is to read a dissenting opinion on this book? Because I read it for the first time 5 or 6 years ago and Did Not Like It. And because it is such a Beloved Classic, as you say, it can be very alienating to be the person in the room who doesn’t get it. It sounds like you liked it more than I did, but I appreciate you opening the door to a little bit of discussion.
I had some of the same issues you had, but my central problem, the one that I think made it impossible for me to like the book, was that I disliked Charles Wallace very much. I find him skin-crawlingly creepy. It’s the Jesus thing, in part, but there’s something beyond that–I don’t like idealization, I guess, and I don’t trust it. There is something Wrong about that character.
I adored him at first–I love precocious kids because I was one, very verbal at an early age, etc. And how solicitous and loving he was toward his sister. But later he becomes much more annoying and less relatable to me, just this magic jesus thing that had no personality.
Can I just tell you what a relief it is to read a dissenting opinion on this book? Because I read it for the first time 5 or 6 years ago and Did Not Like It. And because it is such a Beloved Classic, as you say, it can be very alienating to be the person in the room who doesn’t get it. It sounds like you liked it more than I did, but I appreciate you opening the door to a little bit of discussion.
I had some of the same issues you had, but my central problem, the one that I think made it impossible for me to like the book, was that I disliked Charles Wallace very much. I find him skin-crawlingly creepy. It’s the Jesus thing, in part, but there’s something beyond that–I don’t like idealization, I guess, and I don’t trust it. There is something Wrong about that character.
I adored him at first–I love precocious kids because I was one, very verbal at an early age, etc. And how solicitous and loving he was toward his sister. But later he becomes much more annoying and less relatable to me, just this magic jesus thing that had no personality.
Writing a simple response to you first, so sorry if this is doubling up on someone else’s commentary.
I think I loved this book, and the entire series, in fact, for some of the reasons, maybe, that you hated it, hilariously: and I’ve definitely reread it since becoming an adult.
For me, I love that Mrs. Murray can manage to find this balance between being a mom and being a scientist/geek. I love that she can be a geek and /still/ beautiful, and I loved it when I was a little girl and worrying that being a geek meant I was never going to be beautiful, and no one would ever love me. I remember being like Meg, looking at my gangly self, with brilliant (if crazy) parents, and feeling like I would never grow up to be as great or as grand, and devaluing the gifts I had. (Which did include the gift of loyalty and loving, which I feel is important never to underestimate.)
From what I recall, it is not that Mrs.O’Keefe is not /beautiful/, it is that she is, for lack of a better word, /slatternly/ that we are meant to see badly. She’s careless about her own appearance and about the lives of a children. She simply doesn’t care, and her apathy is what is viewed negatively.
I think with regards to the god stuff also, it was so nonspecific that I loved it. It mentioned Jesus, sure, but only as one of the host of great thinkers and lightworkers, no better than others.
I agree on the Mrs. O’Keefe fault being Apathy, which is then translated to appearance. And in ASTP, you find why she became so apathetic.
But honestly? That stuff doesn’t translate to appearance, and it’s a poisonous meme that leads us to treat plain, ugly, fat, etc people as though they are inherently bad. I hate it when books perpetuate it, as if this shit isn’t bad enough. you’re not gorgeous! Therefore you must be bad on the inside too.
Oh yes, problematic as hell. And (as much as I skewer a friend when he pulls the “groundbreaking in their time” up as a defense of Heinlein’s gender!fail), at the time it was novel to me.
Writing a simple response to you first, so sorry if this is doubling up on someone else’s commentary.
I think I loved this book, and the entire series, in fact, for some of the reasons, maybe, that you hated it, hilariously: and I’ve definitely reread it since becoming an adult.
For me, I love that Mrs. Murray can manage to find this balance between being a mom and being a scientist/geek. I love that she can be a geek and /still/ beautiful, and I loved it when I was a little girl and worrying that being a geek meant I was never going to be beautiful, and no one would ever love me. I remember being like Meg, looking at my gangly self, with brilliant (if crazy) parents, and feeling like I would never grow up to be as great or as grand, and devaluing the gifts I had. (Which did include the gift of loyalty and loving, which I feel is important never to underestimate.)
From what I recall, it is not that Mrs.O’Keefe is not /beautiful/, it is that she is, for lack of a better word, /slatternly/ that we are meant to see badly. She’s careless about her own appearance and about the lives of a children. She simply doesn’t care, and her apathy is what is viewed negatively.
I think with regards to the god stuff also, it was so nonspecific that I loved it. It mentioned Jesus, sure, but only as one of the host of great thinkers and lightworkers, no better than others.
I agree on the Mrs. O’Keefe fault being Apathy, which is then translated to appearance. And in ASTP, you find why she became so apathetic.
But honestly? That stuff doesn’t translate to appearance, and it’s a poisonous meme that leads us to treat plain, ugly, fat, etc people as though they are inherently bad. I hate it when books perpetuate it, as if this shit isn’t bad enough. you’re not gorgeous! Therefore you must be bad on the inside too.
Oh yes, problematic as hell. And (as much as I skewer a friend when he pulls the “groundbreaking in their time” up as a defense of Heinlein’s gender!fail), at the time it was novel to me.
Writing a simple response to you first, so sorry if this is doubling up on someone else’s commentary.
I think I loved this book, and the entire series, in fact, for some of the reasons, maybe, that you hated it, hilariously: and I’ve definitely reread it since becoming an adult.
For me, I love that Mrs. Murray can manage to find this balance between being a mom and being a scientist/geek. I love that she can be a geek and /still/ beautiful, and I loved it when I was a little girl and worrying that being a geek meant I was never going to be beautiful, and no one would ever love me. I remember being like Meg, looking at my gangly self, with brilliant (if crazy) parents, and feeling like I would never grow up to be as great or as grand, and devaluing the gifts I had. (Which did include the gift of loyalty and loving, which I feel is important never to underestimate.)
From what I recall, it is not that Mrs.O’Keefe is not /beautiful/, it is that she is, for lack of a better word, /slatternly/ that we are meant to see badly. She’s careless about her own appearance and about the lives of a children. She simply doesn’t care, and her apathy is what is viewed negatively.
I think with regards to the god stuff also, it was so nonspecific that I loved it. It mentioned Jesus, sure, but only as one of the host of great thinkers and lightworkers, no better than others.
I agree on the Mrs. O’Keefe fault being Apathy, which is then translated to appearance. And in ASTP, you find why she became so apathetic.
But honestly? That stuff doesn’t translate to appearance, and it’s a poisonous meme that leads us to treat plain, ugly, fat, etc people as though they are inherently bad. I hate it when books perpetuate it, as if this shit isn’t bad enough. you’re not gorgeous! Therefore you must be bad on the inside too.
Oh yes, problematic as hell. And (as much as I skewer a friend when he pulls the “groundbreaking in their time” up as a defense of Heinlein’s gender!fail), at the time it was novel to me.
Writing a simple response to you first, so sorry if this is doubling up on someone else’s commentary.
I think I loved this book, and the entire series, in fact, for some of the reasons, maybe, that you hated it, hilariously: and I’ve definitely reread it since becoming an adult.
For me, I love that Mrs. Murray can manage to find this balance between being a mom and being a scientist/geek. I love that she can be a geek and /still/ beautiful, and I loved it when I was a little girl and worrying that being a geek meant I was never going to be beautiful, and no one would ever love me. I remember being like Meg, looking at my gangly self, with brilliant (if crazy) parents, and feeling like I would never grow up to be as great or as grand, and devaluing the gifts I had. (Which did include the gift of loyalty and loving, which I feel is important never to underestimate.)
From what I recall, it is not that Mrs.O’Keefe is not /beautiful/, it is that she is, for lack of a better word, /slatternly/ that we are meant to see badly. She’s careless about her own appearance and about the lives of a children. She simply doesn’t care, and her apathy is what is viewed negatively.
I think with regards to the god stuff also, it was so nonspecific that I loved it. It mentioned Jesus, sure, but only as one of the host of great thinkers and lightworkers, no better than others.
I agree on the Mrs. O’Keefe fault being Apathy, which is then translated to appearance. And in ASTP, you find why she became so apathetic.
But honestly? That stuff doesn’t translate to appearance, and it’s a poisonous meme that leads us to treat plain, ugly, fat, etc people as though they are inherently bad. I hate it when books perpetuate it, as if this shit isn’t bad enough. you’re not gorgeous! Therefore you must be bad on the inside too.
Oh yes, problematic as hell. And (as much as I skewer a friend when he pulls the “groundbreaking in their time” up as a defense of Heinlein’s gender!fail), at the time it was novel to me.
Writing a simple response to you first, so sorry if this is doubling up on someone else’s commentary.
I think I loved this book, and the entire series, in fact, for some of the reasons, maybe, that you hated it, hilariously: and I’ve definitely reread it since becoming an adult.
For me, I love that Mrs. Murray can manage to find this balance between being a mom and being a scientist/geek. I love that she can be a geek and /still/ beautiful, and I loved it when I was a little girl and worrying that being a geek meant I was never going to be beautiful, and no one would ever love me. I remember being like Meg, looking at my gangly self, with brilliant (if crazy) parents, and feeling like I would never grow up to be as great or as grand, and devaluing the gifts I had. (Which did include the gift of loyalty and loving, which I feel is important never to underestimate.)
From what I recall, it is not that Mrs.O’Keefe is not /beautiful/, it is that she is, for lack of a better word, /slatternly/ that we are meant to see badly. She’s careless about her own appearance and about the lives of a children. She simply doesn’t care, and her apathy is what is viewed negatively.
I think with regards to the god stuff also, it was so nonspecific that I loved it. It mentioned Jesus, sure, but only as one of the host of great thinkers and lightworkers, no better than others.
I agree on the Mrs. O’Keefe fault being Apathy, which is then translated to appearance. And in ASTP, you find why she became so apathetic.
But honestly? That stuff doesn’t translate to appearance, and it’s a poisonous meme that leads us to treat plain, ugly, fat, etc people as though they are inherently bad. I hate it when books perpetuate it, as if this shit isn’t bad enough. you’re not gorgeous! Therefore you must be bad on the inside too.
Oh yes, problematic as hell. And (as much as I skewer a friend when he pulls the “groundbreaking in their time” up as a defense of Heinlein’s gender!fail), at the time it was novel to me.
When I was a kid I completely identified with Meg as the one who was normal/average/boring. Like her I am smart but not extremely so, prettyish but not compared to many of the people around me. I got stampy about this then and still get stampy and whiny even now. Meg, like me is not extraordinary on either side of the scale. And I kinda liked that about her. The people with powers always get all the writing…
I agree! What I really liked about this book when I read it as a kid was that it was really about Meg, and most of the action wouldn’t have been possible without her, but she didn’t have any Special powers as such, she was just smart and sort of prickly and contrary. Which was what made her better at resisting the evil conformity of IT.
I also think that the story of Meg is a really interesting but tragic one. A later book mentions that although Meg is a brilliant and gifted mathematician and scientist, she deliberately has chosen not to focus on her career. The reason given by the character in the book is that she was afraid on some level to compete with her mother. And while that’s not so much the Heroic Protagonist role, it always struck me as being tragically true to life. When I was a kid I remember being devastated by hearing that Meg had chosen to turn away from her gifts in that way and focus on being “just” a mother. That seemed like such a betrayal to me, and I vowed that I would never be that way, that I would always insist on being the protagonist of my own story. So in that way it was really inspirational to me. As an adult I really can see it in a different light; I can really have a lot more compassion for Meg. But I think you really have to read a lot of the books to get the whole story, as it were, since that’s just a throw-away line in one of her later books. (Maybe An Acceptable Time?)
I also join the chorus that says to read A Ring of Endless Light:
A great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart
And breaks apart the dusky clouds of night.
The end of all is hinted in the start.
When we are born we bear the seeds of blight;
Around us life & death are torn apart,
Yet a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
It lights the world to my delight.
Infinity is present in each part.
A loving smile contains all art.
The motes of starlight spark & dart.
A grain of sand holds power & might.
Infinity is present in each part,
And a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
I got the same thing with Meg–the feeling that it was such a WASTE. And I took that away from the book, too–that it wasn’t “Yay, housewife!” but a kind of “Damn shame it came out that way, but she says she’s happy, so what can you do?” Which is how I feel about enough people in real life that I didn’t think of it as a failure of feminism on L’Engle’s part so much as an accurate rendering of how stuff works out sometimes. It had the ring of unfortunate truth to it.
When I was a kid I completely identified with Meg as the one who was normal/average/boring. Like her I am smart but not extremely so, prettyish but not compared to many of the people around me. I got stampy about this then and still get stampy and whiny even now. Meg, like me is not extraordinary on either side of the scale. And I kinda liked that about her. The people with powers always get all the writing…
I agree! What I really liked about this book when I read it as a kid was that it was really about Meg, and most of the action wouldn’t have been possible without her, but she didn’t have any Special powers as such, she was just smart and sort of prickly and contrary. Which was what made her better at resisting the evil conformity of IT.
I also think that the story of Meg is a really interesting but tragic one. A later book mentions that although Meg is a brilliant and gifted mathematician and scientist, she deliberately has chosen not to focus on her career. The reason given by the character in the book is that she was afraid on some level to compete with her mother. And while that’s not so much the Heroic Protagonist role, it always struck me as being tragically true to life. When I was a kid I remember being devastated by hearing that Meg had chosen to turn away from her gifts in that way and focus on being “just” a mother. That seemed like such a betrayal to me, and I vowed that I would never be that way, that I would always insist on being the protagonist of my own story. So in that way it was really inspirational to me. As an adult I really can see it in a different light; I can really have a lot more compassion for Meg. But I think you really have to read a lot of the books to get the whole story, as it were, since that’s just a throw-away line in one of her later books. (Maybe An Acceptable Time?)
I also join the chorus that says to read A Ring of Endless Light:
A great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart
And breaks apart the dusky clouds of night.
The end of all is hinted in the start.
When we are born we bear the seeds of blight;
Around us life & death are torn apart,
Yet a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
It lights the world to my delight.
Infinity is present in each part.
A loving smile contains all art.
The motes of starlight spark & dart.
A grain of sand holds power & might.
Infinity is present in each part,
And a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
I got the same thing with Meg–the feeling that it was such a WASTE. And I took that away from the book, too–that it wasn’t “Yay, housewife!” but a kind of “Damn shame it came out that way, but she says she’s happy, so what can you do?” Which is how I feel about enough people in real life that I didn’t think of it as a failure of feminism on L’Engle’s part so much as an accurate rendering of how stuff works out sometimes. It had the ring of unfortunate truth to it.
When I was a kid I completely identified with Meg as the one who was normal/average/boring. Like her I am smart but not extremely so, prettyish but not compared to many of the people around me. I got stampy about this then and still get stampy and whiny even now. Meg, like me is not extraordinary on either side of the scale. And I kinda liked that about her. The people with powers always get all the writing…
I agree! What I really liked about this book when I read it as a kid was that it was really about Meg, and most of the action wouldn’t have been possible without her, but she didn’t have any Special powers as such, she was just smart and sort of prickly and contrary. Which was what made her better at resisting the evil conformity of IT.
I also think that the story of Meg is a really interesting but tragic one. A later book mentions that although Meg is a brilliant and gifted mathematician and scientist, she deliberately has chosen not to focus on her career. The reason given by the character in the book is that she was afraid on some level to compete with her mother. And while that’s not so much the Heroic Protagonist role, it always struck me as being tragically true to life. When I was a kid I remember being devastated by hearing that Meg had chosen to turn away from her gifts in that way and focus on being “just” a mother. That seemed like such a betrayal to me, and I vowed that I would never be that way, that I would always insist on being the protagonist of my own story. So in that way it was really inspirational to me. As an adult I really can see it in a different light; I can really have a lot more compassion for Meg. But I think you really have to read a lot of the books to get the whole story, as it were, since that’s just a throw-away line in one of her later books. (Maybe An Acceptable Time?)
I also join the chorus that says to read A Ring of Endless Light:
A great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart
And breaks apart the dusky clouds of night.
The end of all is hinted in the start.
When we are born we bear the seeds of blight;
Around us life & death are torn apart,
Yet a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
It lights the world to my delight.
Infinity is present in each part.
A loving smile contains all art.
The motes of starlight spark & dart.
A grain of sand holds power & might.
Infinity is present in each part,
And a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
I got the same thing with Meg–the feeling that it was such a WASTE. And I took that away from the book, too–that it wasn’t “Yay, housewife!” but a kind of “Damn shame it came out that way, but she says she’s happy, so what can you do?” Which is how I feel about enough people in real life that I didn’t think of it as a failure of feminism on L’Engle’s part so much as an accurate rendering of how stuff works out sometimes. It had the ring of unfortunate truth to it.
When I was a kid I completely identified with Meg as the one who was normal/average/boring. Like her I am smart but not extremely so, prettyish but not compared to many of the people around me. I got stampy about this then and still get stampy and whiny even now. Meg, like me is not extraordinary on either side of the scale. And I kinda liked that about her. The people with powers always get all the writing…
I agree! What I really liked about this book when I read it as a kid was that it was really about Meg, and most of the action wouldn’t have been possible without her, but she didn’t have any Special powers as such, she was just smart and sort of prickly and contrary. Which was what made her better at resisting the evil conformity of IT.
I also think that the story of Meg is a really interesting but tragic one. A later book mentions that although Meg is a brilliant and gifted mathematician and scientist, she deliberately has chosen not to focus on her career. The reason given by the character in the book is that she was afraid on some level to compete with her mother. And while that’s not so much the Heroic Protagonist role, it always struck me as being tragically true to life. When I was a kid I remember being devastated by hearing that Meg had chosen to turn away from her gifts in that way and focus on being “just” a mother. That seemed like such a betrayal to me, and I vowed that I would never be that way, that I would always insist on being the protagonist of my own story. So in that way it was really inspirational to me. As an adult I really can see it in a different light; I can really have a lot more compassion for Meg. But I think you really have to read a lot of the books to get the whole story, as it were, since that’s just a throw-away line in one of her later books. (Maybe An Acceptable Time?)
I also join the chorus that says to read A Ring of Endless Light:
A great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart
And breaks apart the dusky clouds of night.
The end of all is hinted in the start.
When we are born we bear the seeds of blight;
Around us life & death are torn apart,
Yet a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
It lights the world to my delight.
Infinity is present in each part.
A loving smile contains all art.
The motes of starlight spark & dart.
A grain of sand holds power & might.
Infinity is present in each part,
And a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
I got the same thing with Meg–the feeling that it was such a WASTE. And I took that away from the book, too–that it wasn’t “Yay, housewife!” but a kind of “Damn shame it came out that way, but she says she’s happy, so what can you do?” Which is how I feel about enough people in real life that I didn’t think of it as a failure of feminism on L’Engle’s part so much as an accurate rendering of how stuff works out sometimes. It had the ring of unfortunate truth to it.
When I was a kid I completely identified with Meg as the one who was normal/average/boring. Like her I am smart but not extremely so, prettyish but not compared to many of the people around me. I got stampy about this then and still get stampy and whiny even now. Meg, like me is not extraordinary on either side of the scale. And I kinda liked that about her. The people with powers always get all the writing…
I agree! What I really liked about this book when I read it as a kid was that it was really about Meg, and most of the action wouldn’t have been possible without her, but she didn’t have any Special powers as such, she was just smart and sort of prickly and contrary. Which was what made her better at resisting the evil conformity of IT.
I also think that the story of Meg is a really interesting but tragic one. A later book mentions that although Meg is a brilliant and gifted mathematician and scientist, she deliberately has chosen not to focus on her career. The reason given by the character in the book is that she was afraid on some level to compete with her mother. And while that’s not so much the Heroic Protagonist role, it always struck me as being tragically true to life. When I was a kid I remember being devastated by hearing that Meg had chosen to turn away from her gifts in that way and focus on being “just” a mother. That seemed like such a betrayal to me, and I vowed that I would never be that way, that I would always insist on being the protagonist of my own story. So in that way it was really inspirational to me. As an adult I really can see it in a different light; I can really have a lot more compassion for Meg. But I think you really have to read a lot of the books to get the whole story, as it were, since that’s just a throw-away line in one of her later books. (Maybe An Acceptable Time?)
I also join the chorus that says to read A Ring of Endless Light:
A great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart
And breaks apart the dusky clouds of night.
The end of all is hinted in the start.
When we are born we bear the seeds of blight;
Around us life & death are torn apart,
Yet a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
It lights the world to my delight.
Infinity is present in each part.
A loving smile contains all art.
The motes of starlight spark & dart.
A grain of sand holds power & might.
Infinity is present in each part,
And a great ring of pure & endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
I got the same thing with Meg–the feeling that it was such a WASTE. And I took that away from the book, too–that it wasn’t “Yay, housewife!” but a kind of “Damn shame it came out that way, but she says she’s happy, so what can you do?” Which is how I feel about enough people in real life that I didn’t think of it as a failure of feminism on L’Engle’s part so much as an accurate rendering of how stuff works out sometimes. It had the ring of unfortunate truth to it.
This is really me trying to decipher why I liked it at 10 yrs old and why it continues to comfort me now as a reread:
Part of it is definitely the childhood nostalgia glossover, another piece the self-identification (I did not want super-powers for my awkward self, I wanted a family like Meg’s) like the reader above. And, while I still struggle to not see myself as an adjunct to males, that’s really how I was raised/the role I was placed so it was(is) hard for me to step back enough to critically read it (because critical reading is something I have also come to late in life).
To me, the super powers of the males, Charles Wallace, Calvin, and Father, were all rather empty without Meg’s grounding. It made them more vulnerable. Which reinforced my childhood in that I was the one taking care of my siblings and even my parents at times, Meg was the one who took care of things (aside from when Aunt Beast took care of her, I want an Aunt Beast).
(Also, this is the comment full of parentheses.)
The God bits reminded me more of the god stuff in “So You Want to Be a Wizard,” clearly christian influence but I could swim through it with a bit of broad creator hand-waving (The God gets heavy though in Many Waters and A Swiftly Tilting Planet).
Because I read the whole trilogy at once (I didn’t read Many Waters until later, I srsly need to cut out these asides), I didn’t feel as disconnected from Charles Wallace. I just assumed, wrongly perhaps, that CW kept adventuring through different times/adventures while Meg became a Scientist and the boys went through their very normal careers.
MLE’s Austin series also has a female protag, but many fewer super powers. A Ring of Endless Light literally was one of the things that kept me sane my Junior year of High School.
Also Also:
I just want to say that I like when you critique my childhood favorite books. Part of that is I am still learning critical reading & critical thinking in general, so reading your critiques helps me see them more clearly. I’ve had people be very frustrated when I don’t see things easily because I don’t have that skill and therefore ask questions that they think are dumb.
I think a lot of people have a hard time hearing/reading criticism of something they like without then assuming that it’s a personal criticism as well. My geek friends seem particularly prone to it (“just because I don’t love Star Wars doesn’t mean I don’t love you”).
This is really me trying to decipher why I liked it at 10 yrs old and why it continues to comfort me now as a reread:
Part of it is definitely the childhood nostalgia glossover, another piece the self-identification (I did not want super-powers for my awkward self, I wanted a family like Meg’s) like the reader above. And, while I still struggle to not see myself as an adjunct to males, that’s really how I was raised/the role I was placed so it was(is) hard for me to step back enough to critically read it (because critical reading is something I have also come to late in life).
To me, the super powers of the males, Charles Wallace, Calvin, and Father, were all rather empty without Meg’s grounding. It made them more vulnerable. Which reinforced my childhood in that I was the one taking care of my siblings and even my parents at times, Meg was the one who took care of things (aside from when Aunt Beast took care of her, I want an Aunt Beast).
(Also, this is the comment full of parentheses.)
The God bits reminded me more of the god stuff in “So You Want to Be a Wizard,” clearly christian influence but I could swim through it with a bit of broad creator hand-waving (The God gets heavy though in Many Waters and A Swiftly Tilting Planet).
Because I read the whole trilogy at once (I didn’t read Many Waters until later, I srsly need to cut out these asides), I didn’t feel as disconnected from Charles Wallace. I just assumed, wrongly perhaps, that CW kept adventuring through different times/adventures while Meg became a Scientist and the boys went through their very normal careers.
MLE’s Austin series also has a female protag, but many fewer super powers. A Ring of Endless Light literally was one of the things that kept me sane my Junior year of High School.
Also Also:
I just want to say that I like when you critique my childhood favorite books. Part of that is I am still learning critical reading & critical thinking in general, so reading your critiques helps me see them more clearly. I’ve had people be very frustrated when I don’t see things easily because I don’t have that skill and therefore ask questions that they think are dumb.
I think a lot of people have a hard time hearing/reading criticism of something they like without then assuming that it’s a personal criticism as well. My geek friends seem particularly prone to it (“just because I don’t love Star Wars doesn’t mean I don’t love you”).
This is really me trying to decipher why I liked it at 10 yrs old and why it continues to comfort me now as a reread:
Part of it is definitely the childhood nostalgia glossover, another piece the self-identification (I did not want super-powers for my awkward self, I wanted a family like Meg’s) like the reader above. And, while I still struggle to not see myself as an adjunct to males, that’s really how I was raised/the role I was placed so it was(is) hard for me to step back enough to critically read it (because critical reading is something I have also come to late in life).
To me, the super powers of the males, Charles Wallace, Calvin, and Father, were all rather empty without Meg’s grounding. It made them more vulnerable. Which reinforced my childhood in that I was the one taking care of my siblings and even my parents at times, Meg was the one who took care of things (aside from when Aunt Beast took care of her, I want an Aunt Beast).
(Also, this is the comment full of parentheses.)
The God bits reminded me more of the god stuff in “So You Want to Be a Wizard,” clearly christian influence but I could swim through it with a bit of broad creator hand-waving (The God gets heavy though in Many Waters and A Swiftly Tilting Planet).
Because I read the whole trilogy at once (I didn’t read Many Waters until later, I srsly need to cut out these asides), I didn’t feel as disconnected from Charles Wallace. I just assumed, wrongly perhaps, that CW kept adventuring through different times/adventures while Meg became a Scientist and the boys went through their very normal careers.
MLE’s Austin series also has a female protag, but many fewer super powers. A Ring of Endless Light literally was one of the things that kept me sane my Junior year of High School.
Also Also:
I just want to say that I like when you critique my childhood favorite books. Part of that is I am still learning critical reading & critical thinking in general, so reading your critiques helps me see them more clearly. I’ve had people be very frustrated when I don’t see things easily because I don’t have that skill and therefore ask questions that they think are dumb.
I think a lot of people have a hard time hearing/reading criticism of something they like without then assuming that it’s a personal criticism as well. My geek friends seem particularly prone to it (“just because I don’t love Star Wars doesn’t mean I don’t love you”).
This is really me trying to decipher why I liked it at 10 yrs old and why it continues to comfort me now as a reread:
Part of it is definitely the childhood nostalgia glossover, another piece the self-identification (I did not want super-powers for my awkward self, I wanted a family like Meg’s) like the reader above. And, while I still struggle to not see myself as an adjunct to males, that’s really how I was raised/the role I was placed so it was(is) hard for me to step back enough to critically read it (because critical reading is something I have also come to late in life).
To me, the super powers of the males, Charles Wallace, Calvin, and Father, were all rather empty without Meg’s grounding. It made them more vulnerable. Which reinforced my childhood in that I was the one taking care of my siblings and even my parents at times, Meg was the one who took care of things (aside from when Aunt Beast took care of her, I want an Aunt Beast).
(Also, this is the comment full of parentheses.)
The God bits reminded me more of the god stuff in “So You Want to Be a Wizard,” clearly christian influence but I could swim through it with a bit of broad creator hand-waving (The God gets heavy though in Many Waters and A Swiftly Tilting Planet).
Because I read the whole trilogy at once (I didn’t read Many Waters until later, I srsly need to cut out these asides), I didn’t feel as disconnected from Charles Wallace. I just assumed, wrongly perhaps, that CW kept adventuring through different times/adventures while Meg became a Scientist and the boys went through their very normal careers.
MLE’s Austin series also has a female protag, but many fewer super powers. A Ring of Endless Light literally was one of the things that kept me sane my Junior year of High School.
Also Also:
I just want to say that I like when you critique my childhood favorite books. Part of that is I am still learning critical reading & critical thinking in general, so reading your critiques helps me see them more clearly. I’ve had people be very frustrated when I don’t see things easily because I don’t have that skill and therefore ask questions that they think are dumb.
I think a lot of people have a hard time hearing/reading criticism of something they like without then assuming that it’s a personal criticism as well. My geek friends seem particularly prone to it (“just because I don’t love Star Wars doesn’t mean I don’t love you”).
This is really me trying to decipher why I liked it at 10 yrs old and why it continues to comfort me now as a reread:
Part of it is definitely the childhood nostalgia glossover, another piece the self-identification (I did not want super-powers for my awkward self, I wanted a family like Meg’s) like the reader above. And, while I still struggle to not see myself as an adjunct to males, that’s really how I was raised/the role I was placed so it was(is) hard for me to step back enough to critically read it (because critical reading is something I have also come to late in life).
To me, the super powers of the males, Charles Wallace, Calvin, and Father, were all rather empty without Meg’s grounding. It made them more vulnerable. Which reinforced my childhood in that I was the one taking care of my siblings and even my parents at times, Meg was the one who took care of things (aside from when Aunt Beast took care of her, I want an Aunt Beast).
(Also, this is the comment full of parentheses.)
The God bits reminded me more of the god stuff in “So You Want to Be a Wizard,” clearly christian influence but I could swim through it with a bit of broad creator hand-waving (The God gets heavy though in Many Waters and A Swiftly Tilting Planet).
Because I read the whole trilogy at once (I didn’t read Many Waters until later, I srsly need to cut out these asides), I didn’t feel as disconnected from Charles Wallace. I just assumed, wrongly perhaps, that CW kept adventuring through different times/adventures while Meg became a Scientist and the boys went through their very normal careers.
MLE’s Austin series also has a female protag, but many fewer super powers. A Ring of Endless Light literally was one of the things that kept me sane my Junior year of High School.
Also Also:
I just want to say that I like when you critique my childhood favorite books. Part of that is I am still learning critical reading & critical thinking in general, so reading your critiques helps me see them more clearly. I’ve had people be very frustrated when I don’t see things easily because I don’t have that skill and therefore ask questions that they think are dumb.
I think a lot of people have a hard time hearing/reading criticism of something they like without then assuming that it’s a personal criticism as well. My geek friends seem particularly prone to it (“just because I don’t love Star Wars doesn’t mean I don’t love you”).
I had all the same reactions as a kid and never much identified with Meg. I thought Charles Wallace a brat.
If you havent read it, try Robert C O’Brien’s The Silver Crown instead. Also early spunky female but much more interesting (and weird).
I had all the same reactions as a kid and never much identified with Meg. I thought Charles Wallace a brat.
If you havent read it, try Robert C O’Brien’s The Silver Crown instead. Also early spunky female but much more interesting (and weird).
I had all the same reactions as a kid and never much identified with Meg. I thought Charles Wallace a brat.
If you havent read it, try Robert C O’Brien’s The Silver Crown instead. Also early spunky female but much more interesting (and weird).
I had all the same reactions as a kid and never much identified with Meg. I thought Charles Wallace a brat.
If you havent read it, try Robert C O’Brien’s The Silver Crown instead. Also early spunky female but much more interesting (and weird).
I had all the same reactions as a kid and never much identified with Meg. I thought Charles Wallace a brat.
If you havent read it, try Robert C O’Brien’s The Silver Crown instead. Also early spunky female but much more interesting (and weird).
I, too, missed out on the sparkly, magical trainride of this book… I started it once, but that was at an ill-fated slumber party and was told that reading was not party material (they were playing endless MASH games about boys they liked, and I only had fictional chracters to write down as names, which was red-face-making) and never picked it up again. I bought it a few weeks ago, got lost reading some King and Good Omens for the 100th time, and then the other night thought, “I’ll read this!” … and then promptly fell asleep. So thanks for reminding me, and it’s good to know in advance that if I don’t like it I won’t be alone.
I, too, missed out on the sparkly, magical trainride of this book… I started it once, but that was at an ill-fated slumber party and was told that reading was not party material (they were playing endless MASH games about boys they liked, and I only had fictional chracters to write down as names, which was red-face-making) and never picked it up again. I bought it a few weeks ago, got lost reading some King and Good Omens for the 100th time, and then the other night thought, “I’ll read this!” … and then promptly fell asleep. So thanks for reminding me, and it’s good to know in advance that if I don’t like it I won’t be alone.
I, too, missed out on the sparkly, magical trainride of this book… I started it once, but that was at an ill-fated slumber party and was told that reading was not party material (they were playing endless MASH games about boys they liked, and I only had fictional chracters to write down as names, which was red-face-making) and never picked it up again. I bought it a few weeks ago, got lost reading some King and Good Omens for the 100th time, and then the other night thought, “I’ll read this!” … and then promptly fell asleep. So thanks for reminding me, and it’s good to know in advance that if I don’t like it I won’t be alone.
I, too, missed out on the sparkly, magical trainride of this book… I started it once, but that was at an ill-fated slumber party and was told that reading was not party material (they were playing endless MASH games about boys they liked, and I only had fictional chracters to write down as names, which was red-face-making) and never picked it up again. I bought it a few weeks ago, got lost reading some King and Good Omens for the 100th time, and then the other night thought, “I’ll read this!” … and then promptly fell asleep. So thanks for reminding me, and it’s good to know in advance that if I don’t like it I won’t be alone.
I, too, missed out on the sparkly, magical trainride of this book… I started it once, but that was at an ill-fated slumber party and was told that reading was not party material (they were playing endless MASH games about boys they liked, and I only had fictional chracters to write down as names, which was red-face-making) and never picked it up again. I bought it a few weeks ago, got lost reading some King and Good Omens for the 100th time, and then the other night thought, “I’ll read this!” … and then promptly fell asleep. So thanks for reminding me, and it’s good to know in advance that if I don’t like it I won’t be alone.
It’s hard to know what to say to this. *thinks*
On the subject of Meg being the normal one, the only one without super powers… oddly enough, I always read that as a message of “you don’t have to have super powers to be special and have adventures.” (Though Meg does actually have a “special strength” as it were, which isn’t explicitly stated until the third book – at least, my memory is telling me there’s an explicit statement of it there. It may not satisfy you, as it’s certainly a more “female” ability, but it’s there.)
On the subject of Mrs. Murray – I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that some women want that life, as opposed to finding it frustrating and dis-empowering. I think part of the problem here is the story MLE was telling, which was a story where the kids got to be the heroes by going and rescuing Dad. So she couldn’t have Mom coming along because it wouldn’t then be a story about the kids. She could have reversed it, and had them rescuing Mom instead of Dad, but that’s got its own set of baggage as well.
I think in the end I will say that one can love a Thing even while recognizing and being frustrated by its flaws.
I have never once said that being a mom is bad or that some women don’t want that life. I am talking about contributing to the vast majority of literature in which that is the only role granted to women, and MLE is a part of that. You can’t make that choice if it’s not presented to you as a choice by culture.
Oh yes, absolutely – flawed book is flawed! And oh no, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were saying that – it just felt like it needed to be said, y’know?
I’m trying to remember… the doctor that shows up in the second book is female, and while she’s not center stage by any means, I don’t think she’s presented as a “doctor-mom” the way Mrs. Murray is? It’s been so long, though, I can’t remember the details about her, other than she wasn’t upset they named a snake after her. *chuckle*
Doctor Colubra, and the snake was Louise the Larger.
It’s hard to know what to say to this. *thinks*
On the subject of Meg being the normal one, the only one without super powers… oddly enough, I always read that as a message of “you don’t have to have super powers to be special and have adventures.” (Though Meg does actually have a “special strength” as it were, which isn’t explicitly stated until the third book – at least, my memory is telling me there’s an explicit statement of it there. It may not satisfy you, as it’s certainly a more “female” ability, but it’s there.)
On the subject of Mrs. Murray – I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that some women want that life, as opposed to finding it frustrating and dis-empowering. I think part of the problem here is the story MLE was telling, which was a story where the kids got to be the heroes by going and rescuing Dad. So she couldn’t have Mom coming along because it wouldn’t then be a story about the kids. She could have reversed it, and had them rescuing Mom instead of Dad, but that’s got its own set of baggage as well.
I think in the end I will say that one can love a Thing even while recognizing and being frustrated by its flaws.
I have never once said that being a mom is bad or that some women don’t want that life. I am talking about contributing to the vast majority of literature in which that is the only role granted to women, and MLE is a part of that. You can’t make that choice if it’s not presented to you as a choice by culture.
Oh yes, absolutely – flawed book is flawed! And oh no, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were saying that – it just felt like it needed to be said, y’know?
I’m trying to remember… the doctor that shows up in the second book is female, and while she’s not center stage by any means, I don’t think she’s presented as a “doctor-mom” the way Mrs. Murray is? It’s been so long, though, I can’t remember the details about her, other than she wasn’t upset they named a snake after her. *chuckle*
Doctor Colubra, and the snake was Louise the Larger.
It’s hard to know what to say to this. *thinks*
On the subject of Meg being the normal one, the only one without super powers… oddly enough, I always read that as a message of “you don’t have to have super powers to be special and have adventures.” (Though Meg does actually have a “special strength” as it were, which isn’t explicitly stated until the third book – at least, my memory is telling me there’s an explicit statement of it there. It may not satisfy you, as it’s certainly a more “female” ability, but it’s there.)
On the subject of Mrs. Murray – I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that some women want that life, as opposed to finding it frustrating and dis-empowering. I think part of the problem here is the story MLE was telling, which was a story where the kids got to be the heroes by going and rescuing Dad. So she couldn’t have Mom coming along because it wouldn’t then be a story about the kids. She could have reversed it, and had them rescuing Mom instead of Dad, but that’s got its own set of baggage as well.
I think in the end I will say that one can love a Thing even while recognizing and being frustrated by its flaws.
I have never once said that being a mom is bad or that some women don’t want that life. I am talking about contributing to the vast majority of literature in which that is the only role granted to women, and MLE is a part of that. You can’t make that choice if it’s not presented to you as a choice by culture.
Oh yes, absolutely – flawed book is flawed! And oh no, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were saying that – it just felt like it needed to be said, y’know?
I’m trying to remember… the doctor that shows up in the second book is female, and while she’s not center stage by any means, I don’t think she’s presented as a “doctor-mom” the way Mrs. Murray is? It’s been so long, though, I can’t remember the details about her, other than she wasn’t upset they named a snake after her. *chuckle*
Doctor Colubra, and the snake was Louise the Larger.
It’s hard to know what to say to this. *thinks*
On the subject of Meg being the normal one, the only one without super powers… oddly enough, I always read that as a message of “you don’t have to have super powers to be special and have adventures.” (Though Meg does actually have a “special strength” as it were, which isn’t explicitly stated until the third book – at least, my memory is telling me there’s an explicit statement of it there. It may not satisfy you, as it’s certainly a more “female” ability, but it’s there.)
On the subject of Mrs. Murray – I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that some women want that life, as opposed to finding it frustrating and dis-empowering. I think part of the problem here is the story MLE was telling, which was a story where the kids got to be the heroes by going and rescuing Dad. So she couldn’t have Mom coming along because it wouldn’t then be a story about the kids. She could have reversed it, and had them rescuing Mom instead of Dad, but that’s got its own set of baggage as well.
I think in the end I will say that one can love a Thing even while recognizing and being frustrated by its flaws.
I have never once said that being a mom is bad or that some women don’t want that life. I am talking about contributing to the vast majority of literature in which that is the only role granted to women, and MLE is a part of that. You can’t make that choice if it’s not presented to you as a choice by culture.
Oh yes, absolutely – flawed book is flawed! And oh no, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were saying that – it just felt like it needed to be said, y’know?
I’m trying to remember… the doctor that shows up in the second book is female, and while she’s not center stage by any means, I don’t think she’s presented as a “doctor-mom” the way Mrs. Murray is? It’s been so long, though, I can’t remember the details about her, other than she wasn’t upset they named a snake after her. *chuckle*
Doctor Colubra, and the snake was Louise the Larger.
It’s hard to know what to say to this. *thinks*
On the subject of Meg being the normal one, the only one without super powers… oddly enough, I always read that as a message of “you don’t have to have super powers to be special and have adventures.” (Though Meg does actually have a “special strength” as it were, which isn’t explicitly stated until the third book – at least, my memory is telling me there’s an explicit statement of it there. It may not satisfy you, as it’s certainly a more “female” ability, but it’s there.)
On the subject of Mrs. Murray – I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that some women want that life, as opposed to finding it frustrating and dis-empowering. I think part of the problem here is the story MLE was telling, which was a story where the kids got to be the heroes by going and rescuing Dad. So she couldn’t have Mom coming along because it wouldn’t then be a story about the kids. She could have reversed it, and had them rescuing Mom instead of Dad, but that’s got its own set of baggage as well.
I think in the end I will say that one can love a Thing even while recognizing and being frustrated by its flaws.
I have never once said that being a mom is bad or that some women don’t want that life. I am talking about contributing to the vast majority of literature in which that is the only role granted to women, and MLE is a part of that. You can’t make that choice if it’s not presented to you as a choice by culture.
Oh yes, absolutely – flawed book is flawed! And oh no, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were saying that – it just felt like it needed to be said, y’know?
I’m trying to remember… the doctor that shows up in the second book is female, and while she’s not center stage by any means, I don’t think she’s presented as a “doctor-mom” the way Mrs. Murray is? It’s been so long, though, I can’t remember the details about her, other than she wasn’t upset they named a snake after her. *chuckle*
Doctor Colubra, and the snake was Louise the Larger.
I really appreciate your taking it on with honest and thoughtful response.
For me it is a beloved childhood classic, I think more because of the emotional sense/atmosphere in which I read it which is hard to express but here, I’ll give it a go…I read this around the time I was reading Judy Blume and Paula Danziger, plus John Christopher and the James Blish Star Trek episode adaptations and probably slogging my way through T.H. White’s Once and Future King.
I think what arrested me about it was the magic realism aspects (I think you hit this with the portal) – that there was a strong sense of family alongside the universe-saving.
As an adult, I totally support feminism and can’t argue with your critique one bit.
But as a child, the reality was that the feminist consciousness-raising — women! going off to pursue science and going on housework strikes! – was resulting in a different separation or divorce among my peers every week (it seemed). The fact that Meg Wallace’s family was so condemned for being broken, but actually its strength – love, Meg’s and others – was what was saving the universe was very, well, comforting.
Just my 2 cents.
I really appreciate your taking it on with honest and thoughtful response.
For me it is a beloved childhood classic, I think more because of the emotional sense/atmosphere in which I read it which is hard to express but here, I’ll give it a go…I read this around the time I was reading Judy Blume and Paula Danziger, plus John Christopher and the James Blish Star Trek episode adaptations and probably slogging my way through T.H. White’s Once and Future King.
I think what arrested me about it was the magic realism aspects (I think you hit this with the portal) – that there was a strong sense of family alongside the universe-saving.
As an adult, I totally support feminism and can’t argue with your critique one bit.
But as a child, the reality was that the feminist consciousness-raising — women! going off to pursue science and going on housework strikes! – was resulting in a different separation or divorce among my peers every week (it seemed). The fact that Meg Wallace’s family was so condemned for being broken, but actually its strength – love, Meg’s and others – was what was saving the universe was very, well, comforting.
Just my 2 cents.
I really appreciate your taking it on with honest and thoughtful response.
For me it is a beloved childhood classic, I think more because of the emotional sense/atmosphere in which I read it which is hard to express but here, I’ll give it a go…I read this around the time I was reading Judy Blume and Paula Danziger, plus John Christopher and the James Blish Star Trek episode adaptations and probably slogging my way through T.H. White’s Once and Future King.
I think what arrested me about it was the magic realism aspects (I think you hit this with the portal) – that there was a strong sense of family alongside the universe-saving.
As an adult, I totally support feminism and can’t argue with your critique one bit.
But as a child, the reality was that the feminist consciousness-raising — women! going off to pursue science and going on housework strikes! – was resulting in a different separation or divorce among my peers every week (it seemed). The fact that Meg Wallace’s family was so condemned for being broken, but actually its strength – love, Meg’s and others – was what was saving the universe was very, well, comforting.
Just my 2 cents.
I really appreciate your taking it on with honest and thoughtful response.
For me it is a beloved childhood classic, I think more because of the emotional sense/atmosphere in which I read it which is hard to express but here, I’ll give it a go…I read this around the time I was reading Judy Blume and Paula Danziger, plus John Christopher and the James Blish Star Trek episode adaptations and probably slogging my way through T.H. White’s Once and Future King.
I think what arrested me about it was the magic realism aspects (I think you hit this with the portal) – that there was a strong sense of family alongside the universe-saving.
As an adult, I totally support feminism and can’t argue with your critique one bit.
But as a child, the reality was that the feminist consciousness-raising — women! going off to pursue science and going on housework strikes! – was resulting in a different separation or divorce among my peers every week (it seemed). The fact that Meg Wallace’s family was so condemned for being broken, but actually its strength – love, Meg’s and others – was what was saving the universe was very, well, comforting.
Just my 2 cents.
I really appreciate your taking it on with honest and thoughtful response.
For me it is a beloved childhood classic, I think more because of the emotional sense/atmosphere in which I read it which is hard to express but here, I’ll give it a go…I read this around the time I was reading Judy Blume and Paula Danziger, plus John Christopher and the James Blish Star Trek episode adaptations and probably slogging my way through T.H. White’s Once and Future King.
I think what arrested me about it was the magic realism aspects (I think you hit this with the portal) – that there was a strong sense of family alongside the universe-saving.
As an adult, I totally support feminism and can’t argue with your critique one bit.
But as a child, the reality was that the feminist consciousness-raising — women! going off to pursue science and going on housework strikes! – was resulting in a different separation or divorce among my peers every week (it seemed). The fact that Meg Wallace’s family was so condemned for being broken, but actually its strength – love, Meg’s and others – was what was saving the universe was very, well, comforting.
Just my 2 cents.
You know that game “What Book Are You?”
Whenever anyone asks me that, I tell them I’m the Unwritten Book About Charles Wallace.
Oh. My. God. You totally are!!! LOL
You know that game “What Book Are You?”
Whenever anyone asks me that, I tell them I’m the Unwritten Book About Charles Wallace.
Oh. My. God. You totally are!!! LOL
You know that game “What Book Are You?”
Whenever anyone asks me that, I tell them I’m the Unwritten Book About Charles Wallace.
Oh. My. God. You totally are!!! LOL
You know that game “What Book Are You?”
Whenever anyone asks me that, I tell them I’m the Unwritten Book About Charles Wallace.
Oh. My. God. You totally are!!! LOL
You know that game “What Book Are You?”
Whenever anyone asks me that, I tell them I’m the Unwritten Book About Charles Wallace.
Oh. My. God. You totally are!!! LOL
Thanks for this. I did read those books in the 3rd grade, and loved them, but I haven’t read them since, and I’m glad to have the benefit of your critique. I did ask my parents to read them, and they found them too Christian as well, but as a child I didn’t spot it, and I’ve never bothered to go back. I’d love to hear more about it, if you have the time and/or inclination.
I felt a whiff of anti-communist preaching in Camazotz
This I do remember, even if I didn’t notice it at the time, and it’s interesting to me in retrospect that my Marxist parents didn’t comment on that to me.
I will say that it was the first time I had ever encountered the Giant-Brain-in-Vat trope, and I was really creeped out by it. Now that I think about it, though, I am distressed by the anti-intellectualism that kind of image encodes, however, particularly in a book that’s supposed to be about how great it is to be a scientist.
Thanks for this. I did read those books in the 3rd grade, and loved them, but I haven’t read them since, and I’m glad to have the benefit of your critique. I did ask my parents to read them, and they found them too Christian as well, but as a child I didn’t spot it, and I’ve never bothered to go back. I’d love to hear more about it, if you have the time and/or inclination.
I felt a whiff of anti-communist preaching in Camazotz
This I do remember, even if I didn’t notice it at the time, and it’s interesting to me in retrospect that my Marxist parents didn’t comment on that to me.
I will say that it was the first time I had ever encountered the Giant-Brain-in-Vat trope, and I was really creeped out by it. Now that I think about it, though, I am distressed by the anti-intellectualism that kind of image encodes, however, particularly in a book that’s supposed to be about how great it is to be a scientist.
Thanks for this. I did read those books in the 3rd grade, and loved them, but I haven’t read them since, and I’m glad to have the benefit of your critique. I did ask my parents to read them, and they found them too Christian as well, but as a child I didn’t spot it, and I’ve never bothered to go back. I’d love to hear more about it, if you have the time and/or inclination.
I felt a whiff of anti-communist preaching in Camazotz
This I do remember, even if I didn’t notice it at the time, and it’s interesting to me in retrospect that my Marxist parents didn’t comment on that to me.
I will say that it was the first time I had ever encountered the Giant-Brain-in-Vat trope, and I was really creeped out by it. Now that I think about it, though, I am distressed by the anti-intellectualism that kind of image encodes, however, particularly in a book that’s supposed to be about how great it is to be a scientist.
Thanks for this. I did read those books in the 3rd grade, and loved them, but I haven’t read them since, and I’m glad to have the benefit of your critique. I did ask my parents to read them, and they found them too Christian as well, but as a child I didn’t spot it, and I’ve never bothered to go back. I’d love to hear more about it, if you have the time and/or inclination.
I felt a whiff of anti-communist preaching in Camazotz
This I do remember, even if I didn’t notice it at the time, and it’s interesting to me in retrospect that my Marxist parents didn’t comment on that to me.
I will say that it was the first time I had ever encountered the Giant-Brain-in-Vat trope, and I was really creeped out by it. Now that I think about it, though, I am distressed by the anti-intellectualism that kind of image encodes, however, particularly in a book that’s supposed to be about how great it is to be a scientist.
Thanks for this. I did read those books in the 3rd grade, and loved them, but I haven’t read them since, and I’m glad to have the benefit of your critique. I did ask my parents to read them, and they found them too Christian as well, but as a child I didn’t spot it, and I’ve never bothered to go back. I’d love to hear more about it, if you have the time and/or inclination.
I felt a whiff of anti-communist preaching in Camazotz
This I do remember, even if I didn’t notice it at the time, and it’s interesting to me in retrospect that my Marxist parents didn’t comment on that to me.
I will say that it was the first time I had ever encountered the Giant-Brain-in-Vat trope, and I was really creeped out by it. Now that I think about it, though, I am distressed by the anti-intellectualism that kind of image encodes, however, particularly in a book that’s supposed to be about how great it is to be a scientist.
Oh, sure, steal my thunder by writing a brilliant essay on this months before I have to review the book for Tor.
Mind if I link back to this essay when it happens?
As far as the other books in the series are concerned – I like A Wind in the Door, but find the rest of this series very problematic. Mostly, I find that the older L’Engle got, the more problematic her books got on a number of levels (not to mention her overuse of the word “moan” which gets worse and worse as you go on.) I’m not happy with the “genetics rules us all” message of A Swiftly Tilting Planet and to a lesser extent Many Waters. But some of her early, non science fiction stuff is really quite good, and A Ring of Endless Light has some lovely passages.
Not at all!
Oh, sure, steal my thunder by writing a brilliant essay on this months before I have to review the book for Tor.
Mind if I link back to this essay when it happens?
As far as the other books in the series are concerned – I like A Wind in the Door, but find the rest of this series very problematic. Mostly, I find that the older L’Engle got, the more problematic her books got on a number of levels (not to mention her overuse of the word “moan” which gets worse and worse as you go on.) I’m not happy with the “genetics rules us all” message of A Swiftly Tilting Planet and to a lesser extent Many Waters. But some of her early, non science fiction stuff is really quite good, and A Ring of Endless Light has some lovely passages.
Not at all!
Oh, sure, steal my thunder by writing a brilliant essay on this months before I have to review the book for Tor.
Mind if I link back to this essay when it happens?
As far as the other books in the series are concerned – I like A Wind in the Door, but find the rest of this series very problematic. Mostly, I find that the older L’Engle got, the more problematic her books got on a number of levels (not to mention her overuse of the word “moan” which gets worse and worse as you go on.) I’m not happy with the “genetics rules us all” message of A Swiftly Tilting Planet and to a lesser extent Many Waters. But some of her early, non science fiction stuff is really quite good, and A Ring of Endless Light has some lovely passages.
Not at all!
Oh, sure, steal my thunder by writing a brilliant essay on this months before I have to review the book for Tor.
Mind if I link back to this essay when it happens?
As far as the other books in the series are concerned – I like A Wind in the Door, but find the rest of this series very problematic. Mostly, I find that the older L’Engle got, the more problematic her books got on a number of levels (not to mention her overuse of the word “moan” which gets worse and worse as you go on.) I’m not happy with the “genetics rules us all” message of A Swiftly Tilting Planet and to a lesser extent Many Waters. But some of her early, non science fiction stuff is really quite good, and A Ring of Endless Light has some lovely passages.
Not at all!
Oh, sure, steal my thunder by writing a brilliant essay on this months before I have to review the book for Tor.
Mind if I link back to this essay when it happens?
As far as the other books in the series are concerned – I like A Wind in the Door, but find the rest of this series very problematic. Mostly, I find that the older L’Engle got, the more problematic her books got on a number of levels (not to mention her overuse of the word “moan” which gets worse and worse as you go on.) I’m not happy with the “genetics rules us all” message of A Swiftly Tilting Planet and to a lesser extent Many Waters. But some of her early, non science fiction stuff is really quite good, and A Ring of Endless Light has some lovely passages.
Not at all!
I submit that Dr. (Mrs.) Murry isn’t allowed to go looking for her husband not because she is a woman but because she is an adult in a children’s story. Parents do not go adventuring with their children. I don’t see there being any real gender inequality in this book let alone enough to have an Issue with. But I did read it a long time ago.
I never felt like the books in the series were very connected. The supporting characters are all completely different and the evil entities have slightly different flavors. (I think the Echthros are scarier than IT.)
Also I thought it odd that Charles Wallace was much more immature in A Swiftly Tilting Planet when he’s a teenager than when he was five. I guess he’s a little like teenage Meg throwing tantrums etc.
And yet Father is with them for the better part of the book, adventuring.
I didn’t think he arrived on the scene until fairly late in the story. The object of the quest was to rescue him.
I submit that Dr. (Mrs.) Murry isn’t allowed to go looking for her husband not because she is a woman but because she is an adult in a children’s story. Parents do not go adventuring with their children. I don’t see there being any real gender inequality in this book let alone enough to have an Issue with. But I did read it a long time ago.
I never felt like the books in the series were very connected. The supporting characters are all completely different and the evil entities have slightly different flavors. (I think the Echthros are scarier than IT.)
Also I thought it odd that Charles Wallace was much more immature in A Swiftly Tilting Planet when he’s a teenager than when he was five. I guess he’s a little like teenage Meg throwing tantrums etc.
And yet Father is with them for the better part of the book, adventuring.
I didn’t think he arrived on the scene until fairly late in the story. The object of the quest was to rescue him.
I submit that Dr. (Mrs.) Murry isn’t allowed to go looking for her husband not because she is a woman but because she is an adult in a children’s story. Parents do not go adventuring with their children. I don’t see there being any real gender inequality in this book let alone enough to have an Issue with. But I did read it a long time ago.
I never felt like the books in the series were very connected. The supporting characters are all completely different and the evil entities have slightly different flavors. (I think the Echthros are scarier than IT.)
Also I thought it odd that Charles Wallace was much more immature in A Swiftly Tilting Planet when he’s a teenager than when he was five. I guess he’s a little like teenage Meg throwing tantrums etc.
And yet Father is with them for the better part of the book, adventuring.
I didn’t think he arrived on the scene until fairly late in the story. The object of the quest was to rescue him.
I submit that Dr. (Mrs.) Murry isn’t allowed to go looking for her husband not because she is a woman but because she is an adult in a children’s story. Parents do not go adventuring with their children. I don’t see there being any real gender inequality in this book let alone enough to have an Issue with. But I did read it a long time ago.
I never felt like the books in the series were very connected. The supporting characters are all completely different and the evil entities have slightly different flavors. (I think the Echthros are scarier than IT.)
Also I thought it odd that Charles Wallace was much more immature in A Swiftly Tilting Planet when he’s a teenager than when he was five. I guess he’s a little like teenage Meg throwing tantrums etc.
And yet Father is with them for the better part of the book, adventuring.
I didn’t think he arrived on the scene until fairly late in the story. The object of the quest was to rescue him.
I submit that Dr. (Mrs.) Murry isn’t allowed to go looking for her husband not because she is a woman but because she is an adult in a children’s story. Parents do not go adventuring with their children. I don’t see there being any real gender inequality in this book let alone enough to have an Issue with. But I did read it a long time ago.
I never felt like the books in the series were very connected. The supporting characters are all completely different and the evil entities have slightly different flavors. (I think the Echthros are scarier than IT.)
Also I thought it odd that Charles Wallace was much more immature in A Swiftly Tilting Planet when he’s a teenager than when he was five. I guess he’s a little like teenage Meg throwing tantrums etc.
And yet Father is with them for the better part of the book, adventuring.
I didn’t think he arrived on the scene until fairly late in the story. The object of the quest was to rescue him.
I loved these when I was little and my mother read them to us. I love them now, with a special affection, as the author and I share an alma mater, and there’s a certain camaraderie that comes of that, irrationally enough. That said, I hadn’t really looked at them again since my first reading. The gender politics are just as you describe, and I really have nothing to say about that. There’s weird fixation on motherhood and the power of love and the girls are always left at home or, at best, get to be the staff chick, so to speak. Ew. The only hero of her own story in the continuum (that I’ve read personally–I was never able to get into any but the central trilogy, Many Waters, and An Acceptable Time, which are sometimes sort of vaguely included) is Meg’s daughter, and even her story is largely in the control of her creepy, controlling boyfriend.
The God stuff, though… That I could dissect forever. I was raised Christian, but I’ve always been oddly Christian allegory-proof. I read Narnia without seeing any particular parallels! I think it’s because I’m a naturally super rational, evidence seeking person. The heavy handed metaphors never seemed to me to have anything to do with Christian theology, because God had actual, palpable effects in those worlds, putting it entirely over into the realm of fantasy as far as I was concerned.
As an aside, I find it odd that these books are considered sci-fi and not fantasy. Common thing at the time, of course. Books that are unadulterated swords and sorcery are referred to as science fiction if they’re from that period. I have a sense that the strict division developed both as the genre expanded and as female authors entered the fold in numbers.
But anyway, God stuff. I can still summon the absurd sense of confusion, the way I was violently thrown from the book, when a bunch of winged centaur aliens started singing about Jesus. Huh? It seemed so achingly incongruous. I could understand aliens having a sense of God, but I had no idea why they’d be about this Jesus guy. Did the aliens get their own Jesus? Yeesh.
The later books are so much more expressly occurring in a fantasy universe with a sort of gentle, middle of the road idea of a history unfolding according to Christian mythology. Wind in the Door has an angel (a cool angel, mind you, but again, it felt like fantasy to me). A Swiftly Tilting Planet has… well, time-traveling Unicorns and… I don’t have the space or energy to begin. Many Waters features the twins, who finally get a little story of their own, also with time traveling unicorns and participating in an interesting little reimagining of the Noah’s Ark story. The way I understood them, the stories drew from Christian mythology.
Which probably isn’t what the author intended. I might be able to shoehorn a reread into my schedule, and I’ll see what I come away with. I’m guessing I’ll get a distinct impression that she wants her reader to actually believe there are angels kicking around. But hey, Philip Pullman drew on Christian mythology, too, and he’s got all the problematic gender politics without the excuse of it being a different time or a fraction of the writing talent.
P.S. I don’t even know where to start on her blue-eyed Native Americans. Wow.
My impression of the winged centaurs singing about Jesus was that the meaning of the song was filtered through Charles Wallace…he was the one translating it and I think it got framed with reference points that he could understand…the Murrays are a fairly religious family after all.
I loved these when I was little and my mother read them to us. I love them now, with a special affection, as the author and I share an alma mater, and there’s a certain camaraderie that comes of that, irrationally enough. That said, I hadn’t really looked at them again since my first reading. The gender politics are just as you describe, and I really have nothing to say about that. There’s weird fixation on motherhood and the power of love and the girls are always left at home or, at best, get to be the staff chick, so to speak. Ew. The only hero of her own story in the continuum (that I’ve read personally–I was never able to get into any but the central trilogy, Many Waters, and An Acceptable Time, which are sometimes sort of vaguely included) is Meg’s daughter, and even her story is largely in the control of her creepy, controlling boyfriend.
The God stuff, though… That I could dissect forever. I was raised Christian, but I’ve always been oddly Christian allegory-proof. I read Narnia without seeing any particular parallels! I think it’s because I’m a naturally super rational, evidence seeking person. The heavy handed metaphors never seemed to me to have anything to do with Christian theology, because God had actual, palpable effects in those worlds, putting it entirely over into the realm of fantasy as far as I was concerned.
As an aside, I find it odd that these books are considered sci-fi and not fantasy. Common thing at the time, of course. Books that are unadulterated swords and sorcery are referred to as science fiction if they’re from that period. I have a sense that the strict division developed both as the genre expanded and as female authors entered the fold in numbers.
But anyway, God stuff. I can still summon the absurd sense of confusion, the way I was violently thrown from the book, when a bunch of winged centaur aliens started singing about Jesus. Huh? It seemed so achingly incongruous. I could understand aliens having a sense of God, but I had no idea why they’d be about this Jesus guy. Did the aliens get their own Jesus? Yeesh.
The later books are so much more expressly occurring in a fantasy universe with a sort of gentle, middle of the road idea of a history unfolding according to Christian mythology. Wind in the Door has an angel (a cool angel, mind you, but again, it felt like fantasy to me). A Swiftly Tilting Planet has… well, time-traveling Unicorns and… I don’t have the space or energy to begin. Many Waters features the twins, who finally get a little story of their own, also with time traveling unicorns and participating in an interesting little reimagining of the Noah’s Ark story. The way I understood them, the stories drew from Christian mythology.
Which probably isn’t what the author intended. I might be able to shoehorn a reread into my schedule, and I’ll see what I come away with. I’m guessing I’ll get a distinct impression that she wants her reader to actually believe there are angels kicking around. But hey, Philip Pullman drew on Christian mythology, too, and he’s got all the problematic gender politics without the excuse of it being a different time or a fraction of the writing talent.
P.S. I don’t even know where to start on her blue-eyed Native Americans. Wow.
My impression of the winged centaurs singing about Jesus was that the meaning of the song was filtered through Charles Wallace…he was the one translating it and I think it got framed with reference points that he could understand…the Murrays are a fairly religious family after all.
I loved these when I was little and my mother read them to us. I love them now, with a special affection, as the author and I share an alma mater, and there’s a certain camaraderie that comes of that, irrationally enough. That said, I hadn’t really looked at them again since my first reading. The gender politics are just as you describe, and I really have nothing to say about that. There’s weird fixation on motherhood and the power of love and the girls are always left at home or, at best, get to be the staff chick, so to speak. Ew. The only hero of her own story in the continuum (that I’ve read personally–I was never able to get into any but the central trilogy, Many Waters, and An Acceptable Time, which are sometimes sort of vaguely included) is Meg’s daughter, and even her story is largely in the control of her creepy, controlling boyfriend.
The God stuff, though… That I could dissect forever. I was raised Christian, but I’ve always been oddly Christian allegory-proof. I read Narnia without seeing any particular parallels! I think it’s because I’m a naturally super rational, evidence seeking person. The heavy handed metaphors never seemed to me to have anything to do with Christian theology, because God had actual, palpable effects in those worlds, putting it entirely over into the realm of fantasy as far as I was concerned.
As an aside, I find it odd that these books are considered sci-fi and not fantasy. Common thing at the time, of course. Books that are unadulterated swords and sorcery are referred to as science fiction if they’re from that period. I have a sense that the strict division developed both as the genre expanded and as female authors entered the fold in numbers.
But anyway, God stuff. I can still summon the absurd sense of confusion, the way I was violently thrown from the book, when a bunch of winged centaur aliens started singing about Jesus. Huh? It seemed so achingly incongruous. I could understand aliens having a sense of God, but I had no idea why they’d be about this Jesus guy. Did the aliens get their own Jesus? Yeesh.
The later books are so much more expressly occurring in a fantasy universe with a sort of gentle, middle of the road idea of a history unfolding according to Christian mythology. Wind in the Door has an angel (a cool angel, mind you, but again, it felt like fantasy to me). A Swiftly Tilting Planet has… well, time-traveling Unicorns and… I don’t have the space or energy to begin. Many Waters features the twins, who finally get a little story of their own, also with time traveling unicorns and participating in an interesting little reimagining of the Noah’s Ark story. The way I understood them, the stories drew from Christian mythology.
Which probably isn’t what the author intended. I might be able to shoehorn a reread into my schedule, and I’ll see what I come away with. I’m guessing I’ll get a distinct impression that she wants her reader to actually believe there are angels kicking around. But hey, Philip Pullman drew on Christian mythology, too, and he’s got all the problematic gender politics without the excuse of it being a different time or a fraction of the writing talent.
P.S. I don’t even know where to start on her blue-eyed Native Americans. Wow.
My impression of the winged centaurs singing about Jesus was that the meaning of the song was filtered through Charles Wallace…he was the one translating it and I think it got framed with reference points that he could understand…the Murrays are a fairly religious family after all.
I loved these when I was little and my mother read them to us. I love them now, with a special affection, as the author and I share an alma mater, and there’s a certain camaraderie that comes of that, irrationally enough. That said, I hadn’t really looked at them again since my first reading. The gender politics are just as you describe, and I really have nothing to say about that. There’s weird fixation on motherhood and the power of love and the girls are always left at home or, at best, get to be the staff chick, so to speak. Ew. The only hero of her own story in the continuum (that I’ve read personally–I was never able to get into any but the central trilogy, Many Waters, and An Acceptable Time, which are sometimes sort of vaguely included) is Meg’s daughter, and even her story is largely in the control of her creepy, controlling boyfriend.
The God stuff, though… That I could dissect forever. I was raised Christian, but I’ve always been oddly Christian allegory-proof. I read Narnia without seeing any particular parallels! I think it’s because I’m a naturally super rational, evidence seeking person. The heavy handed metaphors never seemed to me to have anything to do with Christian theology, because God had actual, palpable effects in those worlds, putting it entirely over into the realm of fantasy as far as I was concerned.
As an aside, I find it odd that these books are considered sci-fi and not fantasy. Common thing at the time, of course. Books that are unadulterated swords and sorcery are referred to as science fiction if they’re from that period. I have a sense that the strict division developed both as the genre expanded and as female authors entered the fold in numbers.
But anyway, God stuff. I can still summon the absurd sense of confusion, the way I was violently thrown from the book, when a bunch of winged centaur aliens started singing about Jesus. Huh? It seemed so achingly incongruous. I could understand aliens having a sense of God, but I had no idea why they’d be about this Jesus guy. Did the aliens get their own Jesus? Yeesh.
The later books are so much more expressly occurring in a fantasy universe with a sort of gentle, middle of the road idea of a history unfolding according to Christian mythology. Wind in the Door has an angel (a cool angel, mind you, but again, it felt like fantasy to me). A Swiftly Tilting Planet has… well, time-traveling Unicorns and… I don’t have the space or energy to begin. Many Waters features the twins, who finally get a little story of their own, also with time traveling unicorns and participating in an interesting little reimagining of the Noah’s Ark story. The way I understood them, the stories drew from Christian mythology.
Which probably isn’t what the author intended. I might be able to shoehorn a reread into my schedule, and I’ll see what I come away with. I’m guessing I’ll get a distinct impression that she wants her reader to actually believe there are angels kicking around. But hey, Philip Pullman drew on Christian mythology, too, and he’s got all the problematic gender politics without the excuse of it being a different time or a fraction of the writing talent.
P.S. I don’t even know where to start on her blue-eyed Native Americans. Wow.
My impression of the winged centaurs singing about Jesus was that the meaning of the song was filtered through Charles Wallace…he was the one translating it and I think it got framed with reference points that he could understand…the Murrays are a fairly religious family after all.
I loved these when I was little and my mother read them to us. I love them now, with a special affection, as the author and I share an alma mater, and there’s a certain camaraderie that comes of that, irrationally enough. That said, I hadn’t really looked at them again since my first reading. The gender politics are just as you describe, and I really have nothing to say about that. There’s weird fixation on motherhood and the power of love and the girls are always left at home or, at best, get to be the staff chick, so to speak. Ew. The only hero of her own story in the continuum (that I’ve read personally–I was never able to get into any but the central trilogy, Many Waters, and An Acceptable Time, which are sometimes sort of vaguely included) is Meg’s daughter, and even her story is largely in the control of her creepy, controlling boyfriend.
The God stuff, though… That I could dissect forever. I was raised Christian, but I’ve always been oddly Christian allegory-proof. I read Narnia without seeing any particular parallels! I think it’s because I’m a naturally super rational, evidence seeking person. The heavy handed metaphors never seemed to me to have anything to do with Christian theology, because God had actual, palpable effects in those worlds, putting it entirely over into the realm of fantasy as far as I was concerned.
As an aside, I find it odd that these books are considered sci-fi and not fantasy. Common thing at the time, of course. Books that are unadulterated swords and sorcery are referred to as science fiction if they’re from that period. I have a sense that the strict division developed both as the genre expanded and as female authors entered the fold in numbers.
But anyway, God stuff. I can still summon the absurd sense of confusion, the way I was violently thrown from the book, when a bunch of winged centaur aliens started singing about Jesus. Huh? It seemed so achingly incongruous. I could understand aliens having a sense of God, but I had no idea why they’d be about this Jesus guy. Did the aliens get their own Jesus? Yeesh.
The later books are so much more expressly occurring in a fantasy universe with a sort of gentle, middle of the road idea of a history unfolding according to Christian mythology. Wind in the Door has an angel (a cool angel, mind you, but again, it felt like fantasy to me). A Swiftly Tilting Planet has… well, time-traveling Unicorns and… I don’t have the space or energy to begin. Many Waters features the twins, who finally get a little story of their own, also with time traveling unicorns and participating in an interesting little reimagining of the Noah’s Ark story. The way I understood them, the stories drew from Christian mythology.
Which probably isn’t what the author intended. I might be able to shoehorn a reread into my schedule, and I’ll see what I come away with. I’m guessing I’ll get a distinct impression that she wants her reader to actually believe there are angels kicking around. But hey, Philip Pullman drew on Christian mythology, too, and he’s got all the problematic gender politics without the excuse of it being a different time or a fraction of the writing talent.
P.S. I don’t even know where to start on her blue-eyed Native Americans. Wow.
My impression of the winged centaurs singing about Jesus was that the meaning of the song was filtered through Charles Wallace…he was the one translating it and I think it got framed with reference points that he could understand…the Murrays are a fairly religious family after all.
Oh, and ware the Many Waters fetishizing of innocence and purity (sex is corrupting dontcha know). I just now remembered that one.
Oh, and ware the Many Waters fetishizing of innocence and purity (sex is corrupting dontcha know). I just now remembered that one.
Oh, and ware the Many Waters fetishizing of innocence and purity (sex is corrupting dontcha know). I just now remembered that one.
Oh, and ware the Many Waters fetishizing of innocence and purity (sex is corrupting dontcha know). I just now remembered that one.
Oh, and ware the Many Waters fetishizing of innocence and purity (sex is corrupting dontcha know). I just now remembered that one.
Oh, MAN. I need to reread these books, stat, apparently. I remember the God stuff (between the ages of 9-17, I think I read all of L’Engle’s stuff and the Time Quartet was definitely not the God-iest) and I remember loving them but not much else.
This post makes me so happy. I love a good dissection of things from my childhood.
Oh, MAN. I need to reread these books, stat, apparently. I remember the God stuff (between the ages of 9-17, I think I read all of L’Engle’s stuff and the Time Quartet was definitely not the God-iest) and I remember loving them but not much else.
This post makes me so happy. I love a good dissection of things from my childhood.
Oh, MAN. I need to reread these books, stat, apparently. I remember the God stuff (between the ages of 9-17, I think I read all of L’Engle’s stuff and the Time Quartet was definitely not the God-iest) and I remember loving them but not much else.
This post makes me so happy. I love a good dissection of things from my childhood.
Oh, MAN. I need to reread these books, stat, apparently. I remember the God stuff (between the ages of 9-17, I think I read all of L’Engle’s stuff and the Time Quartet was definitely not the God-iest) and I remember loving them but not much else.
This post makes me so happy. I love a good dissection of things from my childhood.
Oh, MAN. I need to reread these books, stat, apparently. I remember the God stuff (between the ages of 9-17, I think I read all of L’Engle’s stuff and the Time Quartet was definitely not the God-iest) and I remember loving them but not much else.
This post makes me so happy. I love a good dissection of things from my childhood.
I read these as a kid, probably the exact age they were aimed at (around 9 or 10 I think), and while I tried to love them, I just never did. I liked Meg as a character because she was dorky and uncool and obviously like me, but everybody else was annoying. I remember wanting to punch CW in the face he was always oh so perfect and speshul and Teh Chosen One. I could never get into this series like I did Susan Cooper’s books. L’Engle’s trilogy is a sort of minor work that wasn’t that great and didn’t age well.
I read these as a kid, probably the exact age they were aimed at (around 9 or 10 I think), and while I tried to love them, I just never did. I liked Meg as a character because she was dorky and uncool and obviously like me, but everybody else was annoying. I remember wanting to punch CW in the face he was always oh so perfect and speshul and Teh Chosen One. I could never get into this series like I did Susan Cooper’s books. L’Engle’s trilogy is a sort of minor work that wasn’t that great and didn’t age well.
I read these as a kid, probably the exact age they were aimed at (around 9 or 10 I think), and while I tried to love them, I just never did. I liked Meg as a character because she was dorky and uncool and obviously like me, but everybody else was annoying. I remember wanting to punch CW in the face he was always oh so perfect and speshul and Teh Chosen One. I could never get into this series like I did Susan Cooper’s books. L’Engle’s trilogy is a sort of minor work that wasn’t that great and didn’t age well.
I read these as a kid, probably the exact age they were aimed at (around 9 or 10 I think), and while I tried to love them, I just never did. I liked Meg as a character because she was dorky and uncool and obviously like me, but everybody else was annoying. I remember wanting to punch CW in the face he was always oh so perfect and speshul and Teh Chosen One. I could never get into this series like I did Susan Cooper’s books. L’Engle’s trilogy is a sort of minor work that wasn’t that great and didn’t age well.
I read these as a kid, probably the exact age they were aimed at (around 9 or 10 I think), and while I tried to love them, I just never did. I liked Meg as a character because she was dorky and uncool and obviously like me, but everybody else was annoying. I remember wanting to punch CW in the face he was always oh so perfect and speshul and Teh Chosen One. I could never get into this series like I did Susan Cooper’s books. L’Engle’s trilogy is a sort of minor work that wasn’t that great and didn’t age well.
I can certainly understand why you have those issues with A Wrinkle in Time.
If I read it now I am sure I would have big issues with the gender roles, and I seem to recall being bothered a little bit about the gender issue when I read it as a child in the 70s, but not as much as I would if I read it now. Perhpas I had less of a problem at the time with the mom staying home, because many of the moms I knew did stay home even if mine did not. In addition I guess I got the sense that she was able to do a lot of good science at home and I had the very unrealistic idea that scientists could do that (fed in part by other stories such Danny Dunn).
I do recall having some very strong issues with the religious aspects even as a child, and some of the later books I thought were even worse.
As far as the comparison to Charles Wallace and Meg, I think we are intended to think of the former as preternaturally adult in his actions. I never had any issues with Meg being childish because, well, I could relate to some of it. As an adult I would certainly find it more disturbing if I recognized the overall pattern which you noted.
Books, of course, are not going to be perfect, and tend to be mirrors of their times even if some books seem to be more universal and less tied to their origins.
I can certainly understand why you have those issues with A Wrinkle in Time.
If I read it now I am sure I would have big issues with the gender roles, and I seem to recall being bothered a little bit about the gender issue when I read it as a child in the 70s, but not as much as I would if I read it now. Perhpas I had less of a problem at the time with the mom staying home, because many of the moms I knew did stay home even if mine did not. In addition I guess I got the sense that she was able to do a lot of good science at home and I had the very unrealistic idea that scientists could do that (fed in part by other stories such Danny Dunn).
I do recall having some very strong issues with the religious aspects even as a child, and some of the later books I thought were even worse.
As far as the comparison to Charles Wallace and Meg, I think we are intended to think of the former as preternaturally adult in his actions. I never had any issues with Meg being childish because, well, I could relate to some of it. As an adult I would certainly find it more disturbing if I recognized the overall pattern which you noted.
Books, of course, are not going to be perfect, and tend to be mirrors of their times even if some books seem to be more universal and less tied to their origins.
I can certainly understand why you have those issues with A Wrinkle in Time.
If I read it now I am sure I would have big issues with the gender roles, and I seem to recall being bothered a little bit about the gender issue when I read it as a child in the 70s, but not as much as I would if I read it now. Perhpas I had less of a problem at the time with the mom staying home, because many of the moms I knew did stay home even if mine did not. In addition I guess I got the sense that she was able to do a lot of good science at home and I had the very unrealistic idea that scientists could do that (fed in part by other stories such Danny Dunn).
I do recall having some very strong issues with the religious aspects even as a child, and some of the later books I thought were even worse.
As far as the comparison to Charles Wallace and Meg, I think we are intended to think of the former as preternaturally adult in his actions. I never had any issues with Meg being childish because, well, I could relate to some of it. As an adult I would certainly find it more disturbing if I recognized the overall pattern which you noted.
Books, of course, are not going to be perfect, and tend to be mirrors of their times even if some books seem to be more universal and less tied to their origins.
I can certainly understand why you have those issues with A Wrinkle in Time.
If I read it now I am sure I would have big issues with the gender roles, and I seem to recall being bothered a little bit about the gender issue when I read it as a child in the 70s, but not as much as I would if I read it now. Perhpas I had less of a problem at the time with the mom staying home, because many of the moms I knew did stay home even if mine did not. In addition I guess I got the sense that she was able to do a lot of good science at home and I had the very unrealistic idea that scientists could do that (fed in part by other stories such Danny Dunn).
I do recall having some very strong issues with the religious aspects even as a child, and some of the later books I thought were even worse.
As far as the comparison to Charles Wallace and Meg, I think we are intended to think of the former as preternaturally adult in his actions. I never had any issues with Meg being childish because, well, I could relate to some of it. As an adult I would certainly find it more disturbing if I recognized the overall pattern which you noted.
Books, of course, are not going to be perfect, and tend to be mirrors of their times even if some books seem to be more universal and less tied to their origins.
I can certainly understand why you have those issues with A Wrinkle in Time.
If I read it now I am sure I would have big issues with the gender roles, and I seem to recall being bothered a little bit about the gender issue when I read it as a child in the 70s, but not as much as I would if I read it now. Perhpas I had less of a problem at the time with the mom staying home, because many of the moms I knew did stay home even if mine did not. In addition I guess I got the sense that she was able to do a lot of good science at home and I had the very unrealistic idea that scientists could do that (fed in part by other stories such Danny Dunn).
I do recall having some very strong issues with the religious aspects even as a child, and some of the later books I thought were even worse.
As far as the comparison to Charles Wallace and Meg, I think we are intended to think of the former as preternaturally adult in his actions. I never had any issues with Meg being childish because, well, I could relate to some of it. As an adult I would certainly find it more disturbing if I recognized the overall pattern which you noted.
Books, of course, are not going to be perfect, and tend to be mirrors of their times even if some books seem to be more universal and less tied to their origins.
Ohhh, YES.
I recall reading the whole series and mostly enjoying it as a kid, but honestly? They didn’t have nearly the impact on me that Susan Cooper’s books did, or Lloyd Alexander or Peter Beagle or any of a dozen beloved authors. But everyone I know ADORED them, so when my daughter turned nine I gave her a boxed set. She HATED the first book. She was so frustrated by the vague handwavy-science and the skimpy narrative details and she kept asking what was so great about Charles Wallace? And then she got to the end and said, “Was this supposed to be a church book?”
I sat down and read them again for old times’ sake, but meh. They did not age the way I’d been led to expect.
Ohhh, YES.
I recall reading the whole series and mostly enjoying it as a kid, but honestly? They didn’t have nearly the impact on me that Susan Cooper’s books did, or Lloyd Alexander or Peter Beagle or any of a dozen beloved authors. But everyone I know ADORED them, so when my daughter turned nine I gave her a boxed set. She HATED the first book. She was so frustrated by the vague handwavy-science and the skimpy narrative details and she kept asking what was so great about Charles Wallace? And then she got to the end and said, “Was this supposed to be a church book?”
I sat down and read them again for old times’ sake, but meh. They did not age the way I’d been led to expect.
Ohhh, YES.
I recall reading the whole series and mostly enjoying it as a kid, but honestly? They didn’t have nearly the impact on me that Susan Cooper’s books did, or Lloyd Alexander or Peter Beagle or any of a dozen beloved authors. But everyone I know ADORED them, so when my daughter turned nine I gave her a boxed set. She HATED the first book. She was so frustrated by the vague handwavy-science and the skimpy narrative details and she kept asking what was so great about Charles Wallace? And then she got to the end and said, “Was this supposed to be a church book?”
I sat down and read them again for old times’ sake, but meh. They did not age the way I’d been led to expect.
Ohhh, YES.
I recall reading the whole series and mostly enjoying it as a kid, but honestly? They didn’t have nearly the impact on me that Susan Cooper’s books did, or Lloyd Alexander or Peter Beagle or any of a dozen beloved authors. But everyone I know ADORED them, so when my daughter turned nine I gave her a boxed set. She HATED the first book. She was so frustrated by the vague handwavy-science and the skimpy narrative details and she kept asking what was so great about Charles Wallace? And then she got to the end and said, “Was this supposed to be a church book?”
I sat down and read them again for old times’ sake, but meh. They did not age the way I’d been led to expect.
Ohhh, YES.
I recall reading the whole series and mostly enjoying it as a kid, but honestly? They didn’t have nearly the impact on me that Susan Cooper’s books did, or Lloyd Alexander or Peter Beagle or any of a dozen beloved authors. But everyone I know ADORED them, so when my daughter turned nine I gave her a boxed set. She HATED the first book. She was so frustrated by the vague handwavy-science and the skimpy narrative details and she kept asking what was so great about Charles Wallace? And then she got to the end and said, “Was this supposed to be a church book?”
I sat down and read them again for old times’ sake, but meh. They did not age the way I’d been led to expect.
I remember reading it as a child, but very vaguely. I haven’t picked it up to re-read, as I have some of the other things I read then, because I distinctly remember not liking it and not understanding what all the fuss was about. I was born in 85, though, and would have read it sometime in the 90s.
I suspect you’ve probably nailed it as to why I didn’t like it. I was very sensitive to gender issues as a kid, especially in YA/children’s fiction. I actually didn’t read much YA/children’s, because so many of the books were obviously Boy Stories, and I wasn’t interested in that. And Girl Stories were usually contemporaries, not fantasies, which I had no interest in (and still don’t read to this day).
There were so many books that either didn’t have a girl character or the girl character was dreadfully dull in comparison to the boys that could do all these cool things! When I was around 11, I started getting into my mom’s fantasy and reading things like Marion Zimmer Bradley and Mercedes Lackey, and loads of other authors that had girl characters doing awesome things. I’m sure there must have been others, but the only actual YA/children’s books I remember especially liking were Tamora Pierce’s work.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
So, no, you’re hardly alone here.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
Me too! Me too! I can count on my fingers the number of books I read as a kid with male main characters…and most of those were male animals, like Winnie the Pooh or Paddington. Just seeing a male name in the back cover copy would be enough for me to put the book down and move on (I did read Henry Huggins because he’d been a supporting character in the books about Ramona, but I sure as hell didn’t reread them the way I did the other Cleary books.). It’s actually a bias I’ve had to consciously overcome as an adult…though honestly, I haven’t tried that hard.
OMG I thought I was the only one!
It’s a bias I haven’t really tried to overcome much as an adult. I just don’t identify with men, and I find it incredibly annoying that overwhelmingly, our culture tells us we should place more value on men’s stories than on women’s stories. I’m a contrary sort of person, you see.
I have read a very few stories that have primarily featured men that I’ve liked, but almost all of them had strong supporting female characters (thinking of Brent Weeks in particular here; for all that the main character and his mentor are male, he’s surrounded by powerful women).
Honestly, the place it’s hit me hardest has been in my own writing, because I gravitate toward writing primarily about women, and I’ve had to stop myself and say, “Nope, can’t have most of the cast be women, have to switch some of these to guys”. It’s only been recently I realized how truly fucked up that is and started letting myself write the stories I want to write about.
I’m so with you! While it’s not impossible for me to identify with a male character (I like…Sam Vimes, and, um, well, I’m sure there’re some others I could think of if I spent some time at it), it’s just so much less likely!
Almost all my stories are about women as well–I can think of only one story I’ve written about a male protagonist. Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward fairy-tale revisions? So many fairy tales take place in an almost entirely female universe…
Huh, I hadn’t considered that about fairy tales, but you’re right. That might be why I tend to like them so much too!
I remember reading it as a child, but very vaguely. I haven’t picked it up to re-read, as I have some of the other things I read then, because I distinctly remember not liking it and not understanding what all the fuss was about. I was born in 85, though, and would have read it sometime in the 90s.
I suspect you’ve probably nailed it as to why I didn’t like it. I was very sensitive to gender issues as a kid, especially in YA/children’s fiction. I actually didn’t read much YA/children’s, because so many of the books were obviously Boy Stories, and I wasn’t interested in that. And Girl Stories were usually contemporaries, not fantasies, which I had no interest in (and still don’t read to this day).
There were so many books that either didn’t have a girl character or the girl character was dreadfully dull in comparison to the boys that could do all these cool things! When I was around 11, I started getting into my mom’s fantasy and reading things like Marion Zimmer Bradley and Mercedes Lackey, and loads of other authors that had girl characters doing awesome things. I’m sure there must have been others, but the only actual YA/children’s books I remember especially liking were Tamora Pierce’s work.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
So, no, you’re hardly alone here.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
Me too! Me too! I can count on my fingers the number of books I read as a kid with male main characters…and most of those were male animals, like Winnie the Pooh or Paddington. Just seeing a male name in the back cover copy would be enough for me to put the book down and move on (I did read Henry Huggins because he’d been a supporting character in the books about Ramona, but I sure as hell didn’t reread them the way I did the other Cleary books.). It’s actually a bias I’ve had to consciously overcome as an adult…though honestly, I haven’t tried that hard.
OMG I thought I was the only one!
It’s a bias I haven’t really tried to overcome much as an adult. I just don’t identify with men, and I find it incredibly annoying that overwhelmingly, our culture tells us we should place more value on men’s stories than on women’s stories. I’m a contrary sort of person, you see.
I have read a very few stories that have primarily featured men that I’ve liked, but almost all of them had strong supporting female characters (thinking of Brent Weeks in particular here; for all that the main character and his mentor are male, he’s surrounded by powerful women).
Honestly, the place it’s hit me hardest has been in my own writing, because I gravitate toward writing primarily about women, and I’ve had to stop myself and say, “Nope, can’t have most of the cast be women, have to switch some of these to guys”. It’s only been recently I realized how truly fucked up that is and started letting myself write the stories I want to write about.
I’m so with you! While it’s not impossible for me to identify with a male character (I like…Sam Vimes, and, um, well, I’m sure there’re some others I could think of if I spent some time at it), it’s just so much less likely!
Almost all my stories are about women as well–I can think of only one story I’ve written about a male protagonist. Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward fairy-tale revisions? So many fairy tales take place in an almost entirely female universe…
Huh, I hadn’t considered that about fairy tales, but you’re right. That might be why I tend to like them so much too!
I remember reading it as a child, but very vaguely. I haven’t picked it up to re-read, as I have some of the other things I read then, because I distinctly remember not liking it and not understanding what all the fuss was about. I was born in 85, though, and would have read it sometime in the 90s.
I suspect you’ve probably nailed it as to why I didn’t like it. I was very sensitive to gender issues as a kid, especially in YA/children’s fiction. I actually didn’t read much YA/children’s, because so many of the books were obviously Boy Stories, and I wasn’t interested in that. And Girl Stories were usually contemporaries, not fantasies, which I had no interest in (and still don’t read to this day).
There were so many books that either didn’t have a girl character or the girl character was dreadfully dull in comparison to the boys that could do all these cool things! When I was around 11, I started getting into my mom’s fantasy and reading things like Marion Zimmer Bradley and Mercedes Lackey, and loads of other authors that had girl characters doing awesome things. I’m sure there must have been others, but the only actual YA/children’s books I remember especially liking were Tamora Pierce’s work.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
So, no, you’re hardly alone here.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
Me too! Me too! I can count on my fingers the number of books I read as a kid with male main characters…and most of those were male animals, like Winnie the Pooh or Paddington. Just seeing a male name in the back cover copy would be enough for me to put the book down and move on (I did read Henry Huggins because he’d been a supporting character in the books about Ramona, but I sure as hell didn’t reread them the way I did the other Cleary books.). It’s actually a bias I’ve had to consciously overcome as an adult…though honestly, I haven’t tried that hard.
OMG I thought I was the only one!
It’s a bias I haven’t really tried to overcome much as an adult. I just don’t identify with men, and I find it incredibly annoying that overwhelmingly, our culture tells us we should place more value on men’s stories than on women’s stories. I’m a contrary sort of person, you see.
I have read a very few stories that have primarily featured men that I’ve liked, but almost all of them had strong supporting female characters (thinking of Brent Weeks in particular here; for all that the main character and his mentor are male, he’s surrounded by powerful women).
Honestly, the place it’s hit me hardest has been in my own writing, because I gravitate toward writing primarily about women, and I’ve had to stop myself and say, “Nope, can’t have most of the cast be women, have to switch some of these to guys”. It’s only been recently I realized how truly fucked up that is and started letting myself write the stories I want to write about.
I’m so with you! While it’s not impossible for me to identify with a male character (I like…Sam Vimes, and, um, well, I’m sure there’re some others I could think of if I spent some time at it), it’s just so much less likely!
Almost all my stories are about women as well–I can think of only one story I’ve written about a male protagonist. Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward fairy-tale revisions? So many fairy tales take place in an almost entirely female universe…
Huh, I hadn’t considered that about fairy tales, but you’re right. That might be why I tend to like them so much too!
I remember reading it as a child, but very vaguely. I haven’t picked it up to re-read, as I have some of the other things I read then, because I distinctly remember not liking it and not understanding what all the fuss was about. I was born in 85, though, and would have read it sometime in the 90s.
I suspect you’ve probably nailed it as to why I didn’t like it. I was very sensitive to gender issues as a kid, especially in YA/children’s fiction. I actually didn’t read much YA/children’s, because so many of the books were obviously Boy Stories, and I wasn’t interested in that. And Girl Stories were usually contemporaries, not fantasies, which I had no interest in (and still don’t read to this day).
There were so many books that either didn’t have a girl character or the girl character was dreadfully dull in comparison to the boys that could do all these cool things! When I was around 11, I started getting into my mom’s fantasy and reading things like Marion Zimmer Bradley and Mercedes Lackey, and loads of other authors that had girl characters doing awesome things. I’m sure there must have been others, but the only actual YA/children’s books I remember especially liking were Tamora Pierce’s work.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
So, no, you’re hardly alone here.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
Me too! Me too! I can count on my fingers the number of books I read as a kid with male main characters…and most of those were male animals, like Winnie the Pooh or Paddington. Just seeing a male name in the back cover copy would be enough for me to put the book down and move on (I did read Henry Huggins because he’d been a supporting character in the books about Ramona, but I sure as hell didn’t reread them the way I did the other Cleary books.). It’s actually a bias I’ve had to consciously overcome as an adult…though honestly, I haven’t tried that hard.
OMG I thought I was the only one!
It’s a bias I haven’t really tried to overcome much as an adult. I just don’t identify with men, and I find it incredibly annoying that overwhelmingly, our culture tells us we should place more value on men’s stories than on women’s stories. I’m a contrary sort of person, you see.
I have read a very few stories that have primarily featured men that I’ve liked, but almost all of them had strong supporting female characters (thinking of Brent Weeks in particular here; for all that the main character and his mentor are male, he’s surrounded by powerful women).
Honestly, the place it’s hit me hardest has been in my own writing, because I gravitate toward writing primarily about women, and I’ve had to stop myself and say, “Nope, can’t have most of the cast be women, have to switch some of these to guys”. It’s only been recently I realized how truly fucked up that is and started letting myself write the stories I want to write about.
I’m so with you! While it’s not impossible for me to identify with a male character (I like…Sam Vimes, and, um, well, I’m sure there’re some others I could think of if I spent some time at it), it’s just so much less likely!
Almost all my stories are about women as well–I can think of only one story I’ve written about a male protagonist. Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward fairy-tale revisions? So many fairy tales take place in an almost entirely female universe…
Huh, I hadn’t considered that about fairy tales, but you’re right. That might be why I tend to like them so much too!
I remember reading it as a child, but very vaguely. I haven’t picked it up to re-read, as I have some of the other things I read then, because I distinctly remember not liking it and not understanding what all the fuss was about. I was born in 85, though, and would have read it sometime in the 90s.
I suspect you’ve probably nailed it as to why I didn’t like it. I was very sensitive to gender issues as a kid, especially in YA/children’s fiction. I actually didn’t read much YA/children’s, because so many of the books were obviously Boy Stories, and I wasn’t interested in that. And Girl Stories were usually contemporaries, not fantasies, which I had no interest in (and still don’t read to this day).
There were so many books that either didn’t have a girl character or the girl character was dreadfully dull in comparison to the boys that could do all these cool things! When I was around 11, I started getting into my mom’s fantasy and reading things like Marion Zimmer Bradley and Mercedes Lackey, and loads of other authors that had girl characters doing awesome things. I’m sure there must have been others, but the only actual YA/children’s books I remember especially liking were Tamora Pierce’s work.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
So, no, you’re hardly alone here.
I remember being the “weird one” because I wouldn’t read stories about boys, because everyone would say, “well, boys won’t read girl stories, but girls will read stories about boys”, and that was patently NOT true in my case.
Me too! Me too! I can count on my fingers the number of books I read as a kid with male main characters…and most of those were male animals, like Winnie the Pooh or Paddington. Just seeing a male name in the back cover copy would be enough for me to put the book down and move on (I did read Henry Huggins because he’d been a supporting character in the books about Ramona, but I sure as hell didn’t reread them the way I did the other Cleary books.). It’s actually a bias I’ve had to consciously overcome as an adult…though honestly, I haven’t tried that hard.
OMG I thought I was the only one!
It’s a bias I haven’t really tried to overcome much as an adult. I just don’t identify with men, and I find it incredibly annoying that overwhelmingly, our culture tells us we should place more value on men’s stories than on women’s stories. I’m a contrary sort of person, you see.
I have read a very few stories that have primarily featured men that I’ve liked, but almost all of them had strong supporting female characters (thinking of Brent Weeks in particular here; for all that the main character and his mentor are male, he’s surrounded by powerful women).
Honestly, the place it’s hit me hardest has been in my own writing, because I gravitate toward writing primarily about women, and I’ve had to stop myself and say, “Nope, can’t have most of the cast be women, have to switch some of these to guys”. It’s only been recently I realized how truly fucked up that is and started letting myself write the stories I want to write about.
I’m so with you! While it’s not impossible for me to identify with a male character (I like…Sam Vimes, and, um, well, I’m sure there’re some others I could think of if I spent some time at it), it’s just so much less likely!
Almost all my stories are about women as well–I can think of only one story I’ve written about a male protagonist. Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward fairy-tale revisions? So many fairy tales take place in an almost entirely female universe…
Huh, I hadn’t considered that about fairy tales, but you’re right. That might be why I tend to like them so much too!
I liked AWIT and the first sequel when I was a kid, but I re-read them last year and… yeah, everything you say is perfectly true, and bothered me.
I really can’t recommend reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet, which I didn’t like much even as a kid. It’s got Barry Fell all over it, and that stuff doesn’t come off.
I liked AWIT and the first sequel when I was a kid, but I re-read them last year and… yeah, everything you say is perfectly true, and bothered me.
I really can’t recommend reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet, which I didn’t like much even as a kid. It’s got Barry Fell all over it, and that stuff doesn’t come off.
I liked AWIT and the first sequel when I was a kid, but I re-read them last year and… yeah, everything you say is perfectly true, and bothered me.
I really can’t recommend reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet, which I didn’t like much even as a kid. It’s got Barry Fell all over it, and that stuff doesn’t come off.
I liked AWIT and the first sequel when I was a kid, but I re-read them last year and… yeah, everything you say is perfectly true, and bothered me.
I really can’t recommend reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet, which I didn’t like much even as a kid. It’s got Barry Fell all over it, and that stuff doesn’t come off.
I liked AWIT and the first sequel when I was a kid, but I re-read them last year and… yeah, everything you say is perfectly true, and bothered me.
I really can’t recommend reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet, which I didn’t like much even as a kid. It’s got Barry Fell all over it, and that stuff doesn’t come off.
I read it when I was about 13, and I remember enjoying it, but I can’t actually remember much about it except for the brain, someone taking off their glasses and being told they have amazing eyes, and Charles Wallace. I tried reading it again recently and while it was easy to read I stopped fairly quickly as I came across the same troubling things that you mentioned. Sigh. Some books don’t age well.
That said, there are a couple of her other books that I read more recently and quite enjoyed…
I read it when I was about 13, and I remember enjoying it, but I can’t actually remember much about it except for the brain, someone taking off their glasses and being told they have amazing eyes, and Charles Wallace. I tried reading it again recently and while it was easy to read I stopped fairly quickly as I came across the same troubling things that you mentioned. Sigh. Some books don’t age well.
That said, there are a couple of her other books that I read more recently and quite enjoyed…
I read it when I was about 13, and I remember enjoying it, but I can’t actually remember much about it except for the brain, someone taking off their glasses and being told they have amazing eyes, and Charles Wallace. I tried reading it again recently and while it was easy to read I stopped fairly quickly as I came across the same troubling things that you mentioned. Sigh. Some books don’t age well.
That said, there are a couple of her other books that I read more recently and quite enjoyed…
I read it when I was about 13, and I remember enjoying it, but I can’t actually remember much about it except for the brain, someone taking off their glasses and being told they have amazing eyes, and Charles Wallace. I tried reading it again recently and while it was easy to read I stopped fairly quickly as I came across the same troubling things that you mentioned. Sigh. Some books don’t age well.
That said, there are a couple of her other books that I read more recently and quite enjoyed…
I read it when I was about 13, and I remember enjoying it, but I can’t actually remember much about it except for the brain, someone taking off their glasses and being told they have amazing eyes, and Charles Wallace. I tried reading it again recently and while it was easy to read I stopped fairly quickly as I came across the same troubling things that you mentioned. Sigh. Some books don’t age well.
That said, there are a couple of her other books that I read more recently and quite enjoyed…
I reread AWIT recently and remembered my child self singing Little boxes, little boxes, all filled with ticky-tacky and all looking just the same in the Alt-Suburbs. (grin)
Dr. Phil
I reread AWIT recently and remembered my child self singing Little boxes, little boxes, all filled with ticky-tacky and all looking just the same in the Alt-Suburbs. (grin)
Dr. Phil
I reread AWIT recently and remembered my child self singing Little boxes, little boxes, all filled with ticky-tacky and all looking just the same in the Alt-Suburbs. (grin)
Dr. Phil
I reread AWIT recently and remembered my child self singing Little boxes, little boxes, all filled with ticky-tacky and all looking just the same in the Alt-Suburbs. (grin)
Dr. Phil
I reread AWIT recently and remembered my child self singing Little boxes, little boxes, all filled with ticky-tacky and all looking just the same in the Alt-Suburbs. (grin)
Dr. Phil
I read it at some point in grade school. I remember that I liked Meg, but it was really hard to connect with much of the rest of the book, mostly (I realize now) because it was so vague. The Christianity in the book was so different than anything I’d been exposed to in church that it was as unreal as the Mrs. W’s, and so I didn’t feel like it was hitting me over the head. Until I started reading this post and comments, I’d completely forgotten what IT was. (Obviously not one of sf’s greatest villains.)
The one part that stuck with me over the years was Camazotz. The whole bit about it being an anti-Soviet allegory went right over my head at the time, as I don’t think I knew what communism was at the time. Nowadays, Camazotz still creeps me out, mostly because I identify it with some of our more generic suburbs: just fit in perfectly and everything will be all right.
I read it at some point in grade school. I remember that I liked Meg, but it was really hard to connect with much of the rest of the book, mostly (I realize now) because it was so vague. The Christianity in the book was so different than anything I’d been exposed to in church that it was as unreal as the Mrs. W’s, and so I didn’t feel like it was hitting me over the head. Until I started reading this post and comments, I’d completely forgotten what IT was. (Obviously not one of sf’s greatest villains.)
The one part that stuck with me over the years was Camazotz. The whole bit about it being an anti-Soviet allegory went right over my head at the time, as I don’t think I knew what communism was at the time. Nowadays, Camazotz still creeps me out, mostly because I identify it with some of our more generic suburbs: just fit in perfectly and everything will be all right.
I read it at some point in grade school. I remember that I liked Meg, but it was really hard to connect with much of the rest of the book, mostly (I realize now) because it was so vague. The Christianity in the book was so different than anything I’d been exposed to in church that it was as unreal as the Mrs. W’s, and so I didn’t feel like it was hitting me over the head. Until I started reading this post and comments, I’d completely forgotten what IT was. (Obviously not one of sf’s greatest villains.)
The one part that stuck with me over the years was Camazotz. The whole bit about it being an anti-Soviet allegory went right over my head at the time, as I don’t think I knew what communism was at the time. Nowadays, Camazotz still creeps me out, mostly because I identify it with some of our more generic suburbs: just fit in perfectly and everything will be all right.
I read it at some point in grade school. I remember that I liked Meg, but it was really hard to connect with much of the rest of the book, mostly (I realize now) because it was so vague. The Christianity in the book was so different than anything I’d been exposed to in church that it was as unreal as the Mrs. W’s, and so I didn’t feel like it was hitting me over the head. Until I started reading this post and comments, I’d completely forgotten what IT was. (Obviously not one of sf’s greatest villains.)
The one part that stuck with me over the years was Camazotz. The whole bit about it being an anti-Soviet allegory went right over my head at the time, as I don’t think I knew what communism was at the time. Nowadays, Camazotz still creeps me out, mostly because I identify it with some of our more generic suburbs: just fit in perfectly and everything will be all right.
I read it at some point in grade school. I remember that I liked Meg, but it was really hard to connect with much of the rest of the book, mostly (I realize now) because it was so vague. The Christianity in the book was so different than anything I’d been exposed to in church that it was as unreal as the Mrs. W’s, and so I didn’t feel like it was hitting me over the head. Until I started reading this post and comments, I’d completely forgotten what IT was. (Obviously not one of sf’s greatest villains.)
The one part that stuck with me over the years was Camazotz. The whole bit about it being an anti-Soviet allegory went right over my head at the time, as I don’t think I knew what communism was at the time. Nowadays, Camazotz still creeps me out, mostly because I identify it with some of our more generic suburbs: just fit in perfectly and everything will be all right.
I loved Meg when I read that book, and resented her increasingly reduced role in later books. It felt to me, at least, that Meg was increasingly sidelined for Stories About Boys, and there were already shelves and shelves of Stories About Boys to be found; I wanted science fiction about girls.
But then, I had a lot of grumpy issues with gender in my sff as a child. I remember when I found out that Andre Norton was a woman, and got angry: because all the books of hers that I’d read had male protagonists, and if she was a woman herself, it felt like a betrayal that she’d write male protagonists anyway. It seemed to me at that age that men of course always wrote about boys, and women mostly wrote about boys too but sometimes wrote about girls. So men had an excuse for always writing about boys; apparently they weren’t allowed to write girls, or something. But with a woman, there was no excuse, and it was cheating to keep giving me more stories about boys.
I loved Meg when I read that book, and resented her increasingly reduced role in later books. It felt to me, at least, that Meg was increasingly sidelined for Stories About Boys, and there were already shelves and shelves of Stories About Boys to be found; I wanted science fiction about girls.
But then, I had a lot of grumpy issues with gender in my sff as a child. I remember when I found out that Andre Norton was a woman, and got angry: because all the books of hers that I’d read had male protagonists, and if she was a woman herself, it felt like a betrayal that she’d write male protagonists anyway. It seemed to me at that age that men of course always wrote about boys, and women mostly wrote about boys too but sometimes wrote about girls. So men had an excuse for always writing about boys; apparently they weren’t allowed to write girls, or something. But with a woman, there was no excuse, and it was cheating to keep giving me more stories about boys.
I loved Meg when I read that book, and resented her increasingly reduced role in later books. It felt to me, at least, that Meg was increasingly sidelined for Stories About Boys, and there were already shelves and shelves of Stories About Boys to be found; I wanted science fiction about girls.
But then, I had a lot of grumpy issues with gender in my sff as a child. I remember when I found out that Andre Norton was a woman, and got angry: because all the books of hers that I’d read had male protagonists, and if she was a woman herself, it felt like a betrayal that she’d write male protagonists anyway. It seemed to me at that age that men of course always wrote about boys, and women mostly wrote about boys too but sometimes wrote about girls. So men had an excuse for always writing about boys; apparently they weren’t allowed to write girls, or something. But with a woman, there was no excuse, and it was cheating to keep giving me more stories about boys.
I loved Meg when I read that book, and resented her increasingly reduced role in later books. It felt to me, at least, that Meg was increasingly sidelined for Stories About Boys, and there were already shelves and shelves of Stories About Boys to be found; I wanted science fiction about girls.
But then, I had a lot of grumpy issues with gender in my sff as a child. I remember when I found out that Andre Norton was a woman, and got angry: because all the books of hers that I’d read had male protagonists, and if she was a woman herself, it felt like a betrayal that she’d write male protagonists anyway. It seemed to me at that age that men of course always wrote about boys, and women mostly wrote about boys too but sometimes wrote about girls. So men had an excuse for always writing about boys; apparently they weren’t allowed to write girls, or something. But with a woman, there was no excuse, and it was cheating to keep giving me more stories about boys.
I loved Meg when I read that book, and resented her increasingly reduced role in later books. It felt to me, at least, that Meg was increasingly sidelined for Stories About Boys, and there were already shelves and shelves of Stories About Boys to be found; I wanted science fiction about girls.
But then, I had a lot of grumpy issues with gender in my sff as a child. I remember when I found out that Andre Norton was a woman, and got angry: because all the books of hers that I’d read had male protagonists, and if she was a woman herself, it felt like a betrayal that she’d write male protagonists anyway. It seemed to me at that age that men of course always wrote about boys, and women mostly wrote about boys too but sometimes wrote about girls. So men had an excuse for always writing about boys; apparently they weren’t allowed to write girls, or something. But with a woman, there was no excuse, and it was cheating to keep giving me more stories about boys.
Speaking as someone who did adore those books as a child, I think your take on the genderfail is absolutely justified. And, no, if memory serves me, things don’t really get better from there on out–even if later on, the women get a bit more to do. Plus, if you can’t handle how heavy-handed the Christianity is in Wrinkle, do not touch Many Waters with a ten-foot pole. They go back in time TO TEH TIEMZ OF TEH BIBLE. They were too heavy-handed for me during that tender childhood stage wherein heavy-handed had far less ability to get to me than it does now. >>;; I can’t imagine how I (or you, for that matter) would react to them today.
I think I was just so busy being in awe of Aunt Beast that she managed to distract me from all the other gender problems, tbh. I doubt she’d have that same level of power were I to go back for a reread. Also, IT somehow managed to be my first disembodied brain in a jar, so he had a power to spook me back then that I highly doubt he’d have now. Because, y’know, I lost my brain-in-a-jar virgininty and everything.
The one thing I will give those books that holds up very well in retrospect: they were willing to introduce relatively complex concepts to a relatively young readership in a way that may have been heavy-handed, but didn’t talk down to its audience despite the presumed age of said audience. The books treated me like I was smart enough to read them and opened my young, portal-fantasy-loving brain up to the world of concept-heavy science fiction, a world I no longer fretted about being too dumb to enter.
So…yeah. I do get that ability to look at A Wrinkle In Time et. al. with the unjaded eyes of childhood, but I see where you’re coming from all the same, even as I still have a lot of respect for what those books opened me up to personally.
Speaking as someone who did adore those books as a child, I think your take on the genderfail is absolutely justified. And, no, if memory serves me, things don’t really get better from there on out–even if later on, the women get a bit more to do. Plus, if you can’t handle how heavy-handed the Christianity is in Wrinkle, do not touch Many Waters with a ten-foot pole. They go back in time TO TEH TIEMZ OF TEH BIBLE. They were too heavy-handed for me during that tender childhood stage wherein heavy-handed had far less ability to get to me than it does now. >>;; I can’t imagine how I (or you, for that matter) would react to them today.
I think I was just so busy being in awe of Aunt Beast that she managed to distract me from all the other gender problems, tbh. I doubt she’d have that same level of power were I to go back for a reread. Also, IT somehow managed to be my first disembodied brain in a jar, so he had a power to spook me back then that I highly doubt he’d have now. Because, y’know, I lost my brain-in-a-jar virgininty and everything.
The one thing I will give those books that holds up very well in retrospect: they were willing to introduce relatively complex concepts to a relatively young readership in a way that may have been heavy-handed, but didn’t talk down to its audience despite the presumed age of said audience. The books treated me like I was smart enough to read them and opened my young, portal-fantasy-loving brain up to the world of concept-heavy science fiction, a world I no longer fretted about being too dumb to enter.
So…yeah. I do get that ability to look at A Wrinkle In Time et. al. with the unjaded eyes of childhood, but I see where you’re coming from all the same, even as I still have a lot of respect for what those books opened me up to personally.
Speaking as someone who did adore those books as a child, I think your take on the genderfail is absolutely justified. And, no, if memory serves me, things don’t really get better from there on out–even if later on, the women get a bit more to do. Plus, if you can’t handle how heavy-handed the Christianity is in Wrinkle, do not touch Many Waters with a ten-foot pole. They go back in time TO TEH TIEMZ OF TEH BIBLE. They were too heavy-handed for me during that tender childhood stage wherein heavy-handed had far less ability to get to me than it does now. >>;; I can’t imagine how I (or you, for that matter) would react to them today.
I think I was just so busy being in awe of Aunt Beast that she managed to distract me from all the other gender problems, tbh. I doubt she’d have that same level of power were I to go back for a reread. Also, IT somehow managed to be my first disembodied brain in a jar, so he had a power to spook me back then that I highly doubt he’d have now. Because, y’know, I lost my brain-in-a-jar virgininty and everything.
The one thing I will give those books that holds up very well in retrospect: they were willing to introduce relatively complex concepts to a relatively young readership in a way that may have been heavy-handed, but didn’t talk down to its audience despite the presumed age of said audience. The books treated me like I was smart enough to read them and opened my young, portal-fantasy-loving brain up to the world of concept-heavy science fiction, a world I no longer fretted about being too dumb to enter.
So…yeah. I do get that ability to look at A Wrinkle In Time et. al. with the unjaded eyes of childhood, but I see where you’re coming from all the same, even as I still have a lot of respect for what those books opened me up to personally.
Speaking as someone who did adore those books as a child, I think your take on the genderfail is absolutely justified. And, no, if memory serves me, things don’t really get better from there on out–even if later on, the women get a bit more to do. Plus, if you can’t handle how heavy-handed the Christianity is in Wrinkle, do not touch Many Waters with a ten-foot pole. They go back in time TO TEH TIEMZ OF TEH BIBLE. They were too heavy-handed for me during that tender childhood stage wherein heavy-handed had far less ability to get to me than it does now. >>;; I can’t imagine how I (or you, for that matter) would react to them today.
I think I was just so busy being in awe of Aunt Beast that she managed to distract me from all the other gender problems, tbh. I doubt she’d have that same level of power were I to go back for a reread. Also, IT somehow managed to be my first disembodied brain in a jar, so he had a power to spook me back then that I highly doubt he’d have now. Because, y’know, I lost my brain-in-a-jar virgininty and everything.
The one thing I will give those books that holds up very well in retrospect: they were willing to introduce relatively complex concepts to a relatively young readership in a way that may have been heavy-handed, but didn’t talk down to its audience despite the presumed age of said audience. The books treated me like I was smart enough to read them and opened my young, portal-fantasy-loving brain up to the world of concept-heavy science fiction, a world I no longer fretted about being too dumb to enter.
So…yeah. I do get that ability to look at A Wrinkle In Time et. al. with the unjaded eyes of childhood, but I see where you’re coming from all the same, even as I still have a lot of respect for what those books opened me up to personally.
Speaking as someone who did adore those books as a child, I think your take on the genderfail is absolutely justified. And, no, if memory serves me, things don’t really get better from there on out–even if later on, the women get a bit more to do. Plus, if you can’t handle how heavy-handed the Christianity is in Wrinkle, do not touch Many Waters with a ten-foot pole. They go back in time TO TEH TIEMZ OF TEH BIBLE. They were too heavy-handed for me during that tender childhood stage wherein heavy-handed had far less ability to get to me than it does now. >>;; I can’t imagine how I (or you, for that matter) would react to them today.
I think I was just so busy being in awe of Aunt Beast that she managed to distract me from all the other gender problems, tbh. I doubt she’d have that same level of power were I to go back for a reread. Also, IT somehow managed to be my first disembodied brain in a jar, so he had a power to spook me back then that I highly doubt he’d have now. Because, y’know, I lost my brain-in-a-jar virgininty and everything.
The one thing I will give those books that holds up very well in retrospect: they were willing to introduce relatively complex concepts to a relatively young readership in a way that may have been heavy-handed, but didn’t talk down to its audience despite the presumed age of said audience. The books treated me like I was smart enough to read them and opened my young, portal-fantasy-loving brain up to the world of concept-heavy science fiction, a world I no longer fretted about being too dumb to enter.
So…yeah. I do get that ability to look at A Wrinkle In Time et. al. with the unjaded eyes of childhood, but I see where you’re coming from all the same, even as I still have a lot of respect for what those books opened me up to personally.
I like A Wind In The Door much better. I like that L’Engle employs echthroi (what would now be compared to the death eaters) and uses the Greek for personal enemy rather than a more formal enemy of the state, polemioi.
I identified with Charles while reading AWIT, but then, I read it when I was six or seven.
LET THE FARANDOLAE DANCE!
I like A Wind In The Door much better. I like that L’Engle employs echthroi (what would now be compared to the death eaters) and uses the Greek for personal enemy rather than a more formal enemy of the state, polemioi.
I identified with Charles while reading AWIT, but then, I read it when I was six or seven.
LET THE FARANDOLAE DANCE!
I like A Wind In The Door much better. I like that L’Engle employs echthroi (what would now be compared to the death eaters) and uses the Greek for personal enemy rather than a more formal enemy of the state, polemioi.
I identified with Charles while reading AWIT, but then, I read it when I was six or seven.
LET THE FARANDOLAE DANCE!
I like A Wind In The Door much better. I like that L’Engle employs echthroi (what would now be compared to the death eaters) and uses the Greek for personal enemy rather than a more formal enemy of the state, polemioi.
I identified with Charles while reading AWIT, but then, I read it when I was six or seven.
LET THE FARANDOLAE DANCE!
I like A Wind In The Door much better. I like that L’Engle employs echthroi (what would now be compared to the death eaters) and uses the Greek for personal enemy rather than a more formal enemy of the state, polemioi.
I identified with Charles while reading AWIT, but then, I read it when I was six or seven.
LET THE FARANDOLAE DANCE!
Like a lot of books, it was a lot more revolutionary at the time it came out, when there were so many fewer female protagonists goin’ around. And what was awesome and groundbreaking at the time seems terribly benighted a few decades hence. (I remember reading a lot of older female fantasy authors saying how thrilled they were to find Jirel of Joiry, because a woman got to be a hardcore sword-swinger, and that’s…um. Well. Somethin’, raht thar, as they say around here.)
Not much you can do. You either hit it at the magic time when it IS revolutionary, or you miss the magic, I think. Magic is capricious stuff that way. (I’ve missed a few myself. Bronte baffles me utterly…)
But it’s ultimately a good thing. The day I have to explain to someone that no, Vanyel being suicidal and grappling with his family’s disapproval of his homosexuality is not a horrible insensitivy on the part of the author, but was really damn groundbreaking at the time, it’ll be proof we’ve come a very very very long way.
I’d agree there. I remember being a kid in the 90s reading Marion Zimmer Bradley’s intros to the Sword and Sorceress books and talking about Jirel of Joiry, so I looked the books up and was entirely unimpressed. And people nowadays are nowhere near as blown away by Vanyel as they were when I was a kid (cause we didn’t HAVE hardly anything else). I think you’re absolutely right, you either get on the train then, or you miss it.
Like a lot of books, it was a lot more revolutionary at the time it came out, when there were so many fewer female protagonists goin’ around. And what was awesome and groundbreaking at the time seems terribly benighted a few decades hence. (I remember reading a lot of older female fantasy authors saying how thrilled they were to find Jirel of Joiry, because a woman got to be a hardcore sword-swinger, and that’s…um. Well. Somethin’, raht thar, as they say around here.)
Not much you can do. You either hit it at the magic time when it IS revolutionary, or you miss the magic, I think. Magic is capricious stuff that way. (I’ve missed a few myself. Bronte baffles me utterly…)
But it’s ultimately a good thing. The day I have to explain to someone that no, Vanyel being suicidal and grappling with his family’s disapproval of his homosexuality is not a horrible insensitivy on the part of the author, but was really damn groundbreaking at the time, it’ll be proof we’ve come a very very very long way.
I’d agree there. I remember being a kid in the 90s reading Marion Zimmer Bradley’s intros to the Sword and Sorceress books and talking about Jirel of Joiry, so I looked the books up and was entirely unimpressed. And people nowadays are nowhere near as blown away by Vanyel as they were when I was a kid (cause we didn’t HAVE hardly anything else). I think you’re absolutely right, you either get on the train then, or you miss it.
Like a lot of books, it was a lot more revolutionary at the time it came out, when there were so many fewer female protagonists goin’ around. And what was awesome and groundbreaking at the time seems terribly benighted a few decades hence. (I remember reading a lot of older female fantasy authors saying how thrilled they were to find Jirel of Joiry, because a woman got to be a hardcore sword-swinger, and that’s…um. Well. Somethin’, raht thar, as they say around here.)
Not much you can do. You either hit it at the magic time when it IS revolutionary, or you miss the magic, I think. Magic is capricious stuff that way. (I’ve missed a few myself. Bronte baffles me utterly…)
But it’s ultimately a good thing. The day I have to explain to someone that no, Vanyel being suicidal and grappling with his family’s disapproval of his homosexuality is not a horrible insensitivy on the part of the author, but was really damn groundbreaking at the time, it’ll be proof we’ve come a very very very long way.
I’d agree there. I remember being a kid in the 90s reading Marion Zimmer Bradley’s intros to the Sword and Sorceress books and talking about Jirel of Joiry, so I looked the books up and was entirely unimpressed. And people nowadays are nowhere near as blown away by Vanyel as they were when I was a kid (cause we didn’t HAVE hardly anything else). I think you’re absolutely right, you either get on the train then, or you miss it.
Like a lot of books, it was a lot more revolutionary at the time it came out, when there were so many fewer female protagonists goin’ around. And what was awesome and groundbreaking at the time seems terribly benighted a few decades hence. (I remember reading a lot of older female fantasy authors saying how thrilled they were to find Jirel of Joiry, because a woman got to be a hardcore sword-swinger, and that’s…um. Well. Somethin’, raht thar, as they say around here.)
Not much you can do. You either hit it at the magic time when it IS revolutionary, or you miss the magic, I think. Magic is capricious stuff that way. (I’ve missed a few myself. Bronte baffles me utterly…)
But it’s ultimately a good thing. The day I have to explain to someone that no, Vanyel being suicidal and grappling with his family’s disapproval of his homosexuality is not a horrible insensitivy on the part of the author, but was really damn groundbreaking at the time, it’ll be proof we’ve come a very very very long way.
I’d agree there. I remember being a kid in the 90s reading Marion Zimmer Bradley’s intros to the Sword and Sorceress books and talking about Jirel of Joiry, so I looked the books up and was entirely unimpressed. And people nowadays are nowhere near as blown away by Vanyel as they were when I was a kid (cause we didn’t HAVE hardly anything else). I think you’re absolutely right, you either get on the train then, or you miss it.
Like a lot of books, it was a lot more revolutionary at the time it came out, when there were so many fewer female protagonists goin’ around. And what was awesome and groundbreaking at the time seems terribly benighted a few decades hence. (I remember reading a lot of older female fantasy authors saying how thrilled they were to find Jirel of Joiry, because a woman got to be a hardcore sword-swinger, and that’s…um. Well. Somethin’, raht thar, as they say around here.)
Not much you can do. You either hit it at the magic time when it IS revolutionary, or you miss the magic, I think. Magic is capricious stuff that way. (I’ve missed a few myself. Bronte baffles me utterly…)
But it’s ultimately a good thing. The day I have to explain to someone that no, Vanyel being suicidal and grappling with his family’s disapproval of his homosexuality is not a horrible insensitivy on the part of the author, but was really damn groundbreaking at the time, it’ll be proof we’ve come a very very very long way.
I’d agree there. I remember being a kid in the 90s reading Marion Zimmer Bradley’s intros to the Sword and Sorceress books and talking about Jirel of Joiry, so I looked the books up and was entirely unimpressed. And people nowadays are nowhere near as blown away by Vanyel as they were when I was a kid (cause we didn’t HAVE hardly anything else). I think you’re absolutely right, you either get on the train then, or you miss it.
I wasn’t going to chime in, being you already have three pages of comments on this and there’s nothing I really want to say (that hasn’t been said/argued.)
Many Waters I will reread every so many years. It’s the Nephilim, virtual unicorns, and the ideals/constructs of the world pre-Flood that keep me going back. When I originally read A Swiftly Tilting Planet, the events with the terrorism so much mirrored what was currently going on in the world, I freaked myself out and haven’t read it but once more since.
No, my comment is more me wondering what you would think of L’Engle’s other series Meet the Austins.
I wasn’t going to chime in, being you already have three pages of comments on this and there’s nothing I really want to say (that hasn’t been said/argued.)
Many Waters I will reread every so many years. It’s the Nephilim, virtual unicorns, and the ideals/constructs of the world pre-Flood that keep me going back. When I originally read A Swiftly Tilting Planet, the events with the terrorism so much mirrored what was currently going on in the world, I freaked myself out and haven’t read it but once more since.
No, my comment is more me wondering what you would think of L’Engle’s other series Meet the Austins.
I wasn’t going to chime in, being you already have three pages of comments on this and there’s nothing I really want to say (that hasn’t been said/argued.)
Many Waters I will reread every so many years. It’s the Nephilim, virtual unicorns, and the ideals/constructs of the world pre-Flood that keep me going back. When I originally read A Swiftly Tilting Planet, the events with the terrorism so much mirrored what was currently going on in the world, I freaked myself out and haven’t read it but once more since.
No, my comment is more me wondering what you would think of L’Engle’s other series Meet the Austins.
I wasn’t going to chime in, being you already have three pages of comments on this and there’s nothing I really want to say (that hasn’t been said/argued.)
Many Waters I will reread every so many years. It’s the Nephilim, virtual unicorns, and the ideals/constructs of the world pre-Flood that keep me going back. When I originally read A Swiftly Tilting Planet, the events with the terrorism so much mirrored what was currently going on in the world, I freaked myself out and haven’t read it but once more since.
No, my comment is more me wondering what you would think of L’Engle’s other series Meet the Austins.
I wasn’t going to chime in, being you already have three pages of comments on this and there’s nothing I really want to say (that hasn’t been said/argued.)
Many Waters I will reread every so many years. It’s the Nephilim, virtual unicorns, and the ideals/constructs of the world pre-Flood that keep me going back. When I originally read A Swiftly Tilting Planet, the events with the terrorism so much mirrored what was currently going on in the world, I freaked myself out and haven’t read it but once more since.
No, my comment is more me wondering what you would think of L’Engle’s other series Meet the Austins.
You’ve inspired me to read the book again. (I too have only read the first book, and, yes, loved it.)
You’ve inspired me to read the book again. (I too have only read the first book, and, yes, loved it.)
You’ve inspired me to read the book again. (I too have only read the first book, and, yes, loved it.)
You’ve inspired me to read the book again. (I too have only read the first book, and, yes, loved it.)
You’ve inspired me to read the book again. (I too have only read the first book, and, yes, loved it.)
I have to run, so I’m not like, super getting into this right now. What’s funny though is that there’s a graphic novelist (Hope Larson) doing a GN adaptation of this book, right? And she was reading some of the other Murry books recently, and someone has probably already mentioned to you that Many Waters is like, fucking hot for some reason? Like, there’s sex. And Hope and I had this Twitter conversation about remembering being young teens and reading that and being super intrigued and turned on but also clutching our pearls a little because “OMG sex! In my Christian SF!” and someone else came into the conversation and was like “but was it really all that Christian, really? I thought that was just sort of background and setting.” and Hope and I were both like “lols no!” because obviously, as you point out, the Christian stuff was REALLY OBVIOUS AND IMPORTANT AND BLUDGEONS YOU A BIT. Also because I read a lot of L’Engle’s non-fic, and I could authoritatively tell the person “oh dude, she was VERY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS.”
So there’s that. Just wanted to share.
Also someone else has probably mentioned this already, but you *might* like some of the books about Meg’s daughter better. Not sure, it’s been forever since I’ve read them, but her daughter gets to have her own legit adventures where she is totes the special one, so there’s that. Charles Wallace is mentioned as being off somewhere working for the government or something, I think. Anyway, there’s telepathic dolphins and stuff too.
I have to run, so I’m not like, super getting into this right now. What’s funny though is that there’s a graphic novelist (Hope Larson) doing a GN adaptation of this book, right? And she was reading some of the other Murry books recently, and someone has probably already mentioned to you that Many Waters is like, fucking hot for some reason? Like, there’s sex. And Hope and I had this Twitter conversation about remembering being young teens and reading that and being super intrigued and turned on but also clutching our pearls a little because “OMG sex! In my Christian SF!” and someone else came into the conversation and was like “but was it really all that Christian, really? I thought that was just sort of background and setting.” and Hope and I were both like “lols no!” because obviously, as you point out, the Christian stuff was REALLY OBVIOUS AND IMPORTANT AND BLUDGEONS YOU A BIT. Also because I read a lot of L’Engle’s non-fic, and I could authoritatively tell the person “oh dude, she was VERY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS.”
So there’s that. Just wanted to share.
Also someone else has probably mentioned this already, but you *might* like some of the books about Meg’s daughter better. Not sure, it’s been forever since I’ve read them, but her daughter gets to have her own legit adventures where she is totes the special one, so there’s that. Charles Wallace is mentioned as being off somewhere working for the government or something, I think. Anyway, there’s telepathic dolphins and stuff too.
I have to run, so I’m not like, super getting into this right now. What’s funny though is that there’s a graphic novelist (Hope Larson) doing a GN adaptation of this book, right? And she was reading some of the other Murry books recently, and someone has probably already mentioned to you that Many Waters is like, fucking hot for some reason? Like, there’s sex. And Hope and I had this Twitter conversation about remembering being young teens and reading that and being super intrigued and turned on but also clutching our pearls a little because “OMG sex! In my Christian SF!” and someone else came into the conversation and was like “but was it really all that Christian, really? I thought that was just sort of background and setting.” and Hope and I were both like “lols no!” because obviously, as you point out, the Christian stuff was REALLY OBVIOUS AND IMPORTANT AND BLUDGEONS YOU A BIT. Also because I read a lot of L’Engle’s non-fic, and I could authoritatively tell the person “oh dude, she was VERY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS.”
So there’s that. Just wanted to share.
Also someone else has probably mentioned this already, but you *might* like some of the books about Meg’s daughter better. Not sure, it’s been forever since I’ve read them, but her daughter gets to have her own legit adventures where she is totes the special one, so there’s that. Charles Wallace is mentioned as being off somewhere working for the government or something, I think. Anyway, there’s telepathic dolphins and stuff too.
I have to run, so I’m not like, super getting into this right now. What’s funny though is that there’s a graphic novelist (Hope Larson) doing a GN adaptation of this book, right? And she was reading some of the other Murry books recently, and someone has probably already mentioned to you that Many Waters is like, fucking hot for some reason? Like, there’s sex. And Hope and I had this Twitter conversation about remembering being young teens and reading that and being super intrigued and turned on but also clutching our pearls a little because “OMG sex! In my Christian SF!” and someone else came into the conversation and was like “but was it really all that Christian, really? I thought that was just sort of background and setting.” and Hope and I were both like “lols no!” because obviously, as you point out, the Christian stuff was REALLY OBVIOUS AND IMPORTANT AND BLUDGEONS YOU A BIT. Also because I read a lot of L’Engle’s non-fic, and I could authoritatively tell the person “oh dude, she was VERY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS.”
So there’s that. Just wanted to share.
Also someone else has probably mentioned this already, but you *might* like some of the books about Meg’s daughter better. Not sure, it’s been forever since I’ve read them, but her daughter gets to have her own legit adventures where she is totes the special one, so there’s that. Charles Wallace is mentioned as being off somewhere working for the government or something, I think. Anyway, there’s telepathic dolphins and stuff too.
I have to run, so I’m not like, super getting into this right now. What’s funny though is that there’s a graphic novelist (Hope Larson) doing a GN adaptation of this book, right? And she was reading some of the other Murry books recently, and someone has probably already mentioned to you that Many Waters is like, fucking hot for some reason? Like, there’s sex. And Hope and I had this Twitter conversation about remembering being young teens and reading that and being super intrigued and turned on but also clutching our pearls a little because “OMG sex! In my Christian SF!” and someone else came into the conversation and was like “but was it really all that Christian, really? I thought that was just sort of background and setting.” and Hope and I were both like “lols no!” because obviously, as you point out, the Christian stuff was REALLY OBVIOUS AND IMPORTANT AND BLUDGEONS YOU A BIT. Also because I read a lot of L’Engle’s non-fic, and I could authoritatively tell the person “oh dude, she was VERY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS.”
So there’s that. Just wanted to share.
Also someone else has probably mentioned this already, but you *might* like some of the books about Meg’s daughter better. Not sure, it’s been forever since I’ve read them, but her daughter gets to have her own legit adventures where she is totes the special one, so there’s that. Charles Wallace is mentioned as being off somewhere working for the government or something, I think. Anyway, there’s telepathic dolphins and stuff too.
Well, it occurs to me that we can put a more charitable spin on some of Meg’s characteristics, to whit:
1) as it turns out, the ability to get angry, even though it comes off as being bitchy – or let’s avoid gendering it and call it being pissy – is actually pretty important to the outcome of the stories. It insulates her from It’s influence on Camazotz, as I recall (though it’s been a long time). Even the negative aspect that it comes off as childish or immature is mitigated by the fact that she *is* a child.
2) I’m not sure that the concept is supposed to be Love of Men as opposed to Love of Everybody, which while still kind of Polyanna-ish is at least a somewhat less problematic concept.
Of course, #1 is problematic in terms of how perfect the other characters seem and *just* how childish Meg seems at times, and #2 would be a lot easier to buy if she was able to demonstrate her Love for any other women other than her non-adventuring Mom in any concrete way – say, if she had a sister. In fact, a lot of the problems could have been mitigated if either her Mom had come with, or she’d had a sister (maybe Charles Wallace being replaced by an angelic little sister, although tha tmight have its own problems), and if Calvin had been given a few more flaws of his own. But as it stands, I totally see your issues with the work.
Well, it occurs to me that we can put a more charitable spin on some of Meg’s characteristics, to whit:
1) as it turns out, the ability to get angry, even though it comes off as being bitchy – or let’s avoid gendering it and call it being pissy – is actually pretty important to the outcome of the stories. It insulates her from It’s influence on Camazotz, as I recall (though it’s been a long time). Even the negative aspect that it comes off as childish or immature is mitigated by the fact that she *is* a child.
2) I’m not sure that the concept is supposed to be Love of Men as opposed to Love of Everybody, which while still kind of Polyanna-ish is at least a somewhat less problematic concept.
Of course, #1 is problematic in terms of how perfect the other characters seem and *just* how childish Meg seems at times, and #2 would be a lot easier to buy if she was able to demonstrate her Love for any other women other than her non-adventuring Mom in any concrete way – say, if she had a sister. In fact, a lot of the problems could have been mitigated if either her Mom had come with, or she’d had a sister (maybe Charles Wallace being replaced by an angelic little sister, although tha tmight have its own problems), and if Calvin had been given a few more flaws of his own. But as it stands, I totally see your issues with the work.
Well, it occurs to me that we can put a more charitable spin on some of Meg’s characteristics, to whit:
1) as it turns out, the ability to get angry, even though it comes off as being bitchy – or let’s avoid gendering it and call it being pissy – is actually pretty important to the outcome of the stories. It insulates her from It’s influence on Camazotz, as I recall (though it’s been a long time). Even the negative aspect that it comes off as childish or immature is mitigated by the fact that she *is* a child.
2) I’m not sure that the concept is supposed to be Love of Men as opposed to Love of Everybody, which while still kind of Polyanna-ish is at least a somewhat less problematic concept.
Of course, #1 is problematic in terms of how perfect the other characters seem and *just* how childish Meg seems at times, and #2 would be a lot easier to buy if she was able to demonstrate her Love for any other women other than her non-adventuring Mom in any concrete way – say, if she had a sister. In fact, a lot of the problems could have been mitigated if either her Mom had come with, or she’d had a sister (maybe Charles Wallace being replaced by an angelic little sister, although tha tmight have its own problems), and if Calvin had been given a few more flaws of his own. But as it stands, I totally see your issues with the work.
Well, it occurs to me that we can put a more charitable spin on some of Meg’s characteristics, to whit:
1) as it turns out, the ability to get angry, even though it comes off as being bitchy – or let’s avoid gendering it and call it being pissy – is actually pretty important to the outcome of the stories. It insulates her from It’s influence on Camazotz, as I recall (though it’s been a long time). Even the negative aspect that it comes off as childish or immature is mitigated by the fact that she *is* a child.
2) I’m not sure that the concept is supposed to be Love of Men as opposed to Love of Everybody, which while still kind of Polyanna-ish is at least a somewhat less problematic concept.
Of course, #1 is problematic in terms of how perfect the other characters seem and *just* how childish Meg seems at times, and #2 would be a lot easier to buy if she was able to demonstrate her Love for any other women other than her non-adventuring Mom in any concrete way – say, if she had a sister. In fact, a lot of the problems could have been mitigated if either her Mom had come with, or she’d had a sister (maybe Charles Wallace being replaced by an angelic little sister, although tha tmight have its own problems), and if Calvin had been given a few more flaws of his own. But as it stands, I totally see your issues with the work.
Well, it occurs to me that we can put a more charitable spin on some of Meg’s characteristics, to whit:
1) as it turns out, the ability to get angry, even though it comes off as being bitchy – or let’s avoid gendering it and call it being pissy – is actually pretty important to the outcome of the stories. It insulates her from It’s influence on Camazotz, as I recall (though it’s been a long time). Even the negative aspect that it comes off as childish or immature is mitigated by the fact that she *is* a child.
2) I’m not sure that the concept is supposed to be Love of Men as opposed to Love of Everybody, which while still kind of Polyanna-ish is at least a somewhat less problematic concept.
Of course, #1 is problematic in terms of how perfect the other characters seem and *just* how childish Meg seems at times, and #2 would be a lot easier to buy if she was able to demonstrate her Love for any other women other than her non-adventuring Mom in any concrete way – say, if she had a sister. In fact, a lot of the problems could have been mitigated if either her Mom had come with, or she’d had a sister (maybe Charles Wallace being replaced by an angelic little sister, although tha tmight have its own problems), and if Calvin had been given a few more flaws of his own. But as it stands, I totally see your issues with the work.
I’m just popping up to say that I’m actually glad someone can read these books and be critical, since I really can’t. This actually isn’t so much a “Oh, but I love it so much and everything just MUST be the best” because right now I can’t really explain why I loved the books so much as a child. I suppose they were more exciting than the Little House books.
When I re-read A Wrinkle In Time as an adult, it didn’t really read like a book. It was more like a door to the house I lived in when I was five and six and seven, where I read my copy over and over until the covers fell off. I’d built my mental images of what everything in the book looked like based on things I’d already seen, and then, after reading the book hundreds of times, wore those tracks into my brain. So when I did go and re-read the book a few years ago I had the same mental images.
I do remember liking Meg, but I didn’t notice any of the annoying things about her, being six when I read it. Of course, I considered myself an ugly girl with no talents, and I ended up wasting a lot of wide-ruled notebook paper trying to draw four and five dimensional shapes, before deciding I really needed a 3-D model to make a 4-D shape, since I was drawing 3-D shapes on a 2-D surface…
I often have your “meh… also this part is disturbing” reaction to Beloved 80′s Fantasy Movies which are actually terrible, but everybody loves anyway. My parents didn’t like them, so I didn’t watch them until I was well into my 20′s. Like Labyrinth, which left me thoroughly underwhelmed, and Legend, which was just terrible in every way possible.
I’m just popping up to say that I’m actually glad someone can read these books and be critical, since I really can’t. This actually isn’t so much a “Oh, but I love it so much and everything just MUST be the best” because right now I can’t really explain why I loved the books so much as a child. I suppose they were more exciting than the Little House books.
When I re-read A Wrinkle In Time as an adult, it didn’t really read like a book. It was more like a door to the house I lived in when I was five and six and seven, where I read my copy over and over until the covers fell off. I’d built my mental images of what everything in the book looked like based on things I’d already seen, and then, after reading the book hundreds of times, wore those tracks into my brain. So when I did go and re-read the book a few years ago I had the same mental images.
I do remember liking Meg, but I didn’t notice any of the annoying things about her, being six when I read it. Of course, I considered myself an ugly girl with no talents, and I ended up wasting a lot of wide-ruled notebook paper trying to draw four and five dimensional shapes, before deciding I really needed a 3-D model to make a 4-D shape, since I was drawing 3-D shapes on a 2-D surface…
I often have your “meh… also this part is disturbing” reaction to Beloved 80′s Fantasy Movies which are actually terrible, but everybody loves anyway. My parents didn’t like them, so I didn’t watch them until I was well into my 20′s. Like Labyrinth, which left me thoroughly underwhelmed, and Legend, which was just terrible in every way possible.
I’m just popping up to say that I’m actually glad someone can read these books and be critical, since I really can’t. This actually isn’t so much a “Oh, but I love it so much and everything just MUST be the best” because right now I can’t really explain why I loved the books so much as a child. I suppose they were more exciting than the Little House books.
When I re-read A Wrinkle In Time as an adult, it didn’t really read like a book. It was more like a door to the house I lived in when I was five and six and seven, where I read my copy over and over until the covers fell off. I’d built my mental images of what everything in the book looked like based on things I’d already seen, and then, after reading the book hundreds of times, wore those tracks into my brain. So when I did go and re-read the book a few years ago I had the same mental images.
I do remember liking Meg, but I didn’t notice any of the annoying things about her, being six when I read it. Of course, I considered myself an ugly girl with no talents, and I ended up wasting a lot of wide-ruled notebook paper trying to draw four and five dimensional shapes, before deciding I really needed a 3-D model to make a 4-D shape, since I was drawing 3-D shapes on a 2-D surface…
I often have your “meh… also this part is disturbing” reaction to Beloved 80′s Fantasy Movies which are actually terrible, but everybody loves anyway. My parents didn’t like them, so I didn’t watch them until I was well into my 20′s. Like Labyrinth, which left me thoroughly underwhelmed, and Legend, which was just terrible in every way possible.
I’m just popping up to say that I’m actually glad someone can read these books and be critical, since I really can’t. This actually isn’t so much a “Oh, but I love it so much and everything just MUST be the best” because right now I can’t really explain why I loved the books so much as a child. I suppose they were more exciting than the Little House books.
When I re-read A Wrinkle In Time as an adult, it didn’t really read like a book. It was more like a door to the house I lived in when I was five and six and seven, where I read my copy over and over until the covers fell off. I’d built my mental images of what everything in the book looked like based on things I’d already seen, and then, after reading the book hundreds of times, wore those tracks into my brain. So when I did go and re-read the book a few years ago I had the same mental images.
I do remember liking Meg, but I didn’t notice any of the annoying things about her, being six when I read it. Of course, I considered myself an ugly girl with no talents, and I ended up wasting a lot of wide-ruled notebook paper trying to draw four and five dimensional shapes, before deciding I really needed a 3-D model to make a 4-D shape, since I was drawing 3-D shapes on a 2-D surface…
I often have your “meh… also this part is disturbing” reaction to Beloved 80′s Fantasy Movies which are actually terrible, but everybody loves anyway. My parents didn’t like them, so I didn’t watch them until I was well into my 20′s. Like Labyrinth, which left me thoroughly underwhelmed, and Legend, which was just terrible in every way possible.
I’m just popping up to say that I’m actually glad someone can read these books and be critical, since I really can’t. This actually isn’t so much a “Oh, but I love it so much and everything just MUST be the best” because right now I can’t really explain why I loved the books so much as a child. I suppose they were more exciting than the Little House books.
When I re-read A Wrinkle In Time as an adult, it didn’t really read like a book. It was more like a door to the house I lived in when I was five and six and seven, where I read my copy over and over until the covers fell off. I’d built my mental images of what everything in the book looked like based on things I’d already seen, and then, after reading the book hundreds of times, wore those tracks into my brain. So when I did go and re-read the book a few years ago I had the same mental images.
I do remember liking Meg, but I didn’t notice any of the annoying things about her, being six when I read it. Of course, I considered myself an ugly girl with no talents, and I ended up wasting a lot of wide-ruled notebook paper trying to draw four and five dimensional shapes, before deciding I really needed a 3-D model to make a 4-D shape, since I was drawing 3-D shapes on a 2-D surface…
I often have your “meh… also this part is disturbing” reaction to Beloved 80′s Fantasy Movies which are actually terrible, but everybody loves anyway. My parents didn’t like them, so I didn’t watch them until I was well into my 20′s. Like Labyrinth, which left me thoroughly underwhelmed, and Legend, which was just terrible in every way possible.