Dear Wrinkle in Time,
I guess congratulations are in order. You are about to be one (of the many) books that now have a movie. I know that’s the reason why my book club chose you as our reading book (and because most of us have kids so why not choose a book we can enjoy WITH them? It’s a win-win situation) and I know people are eager to see what kind of adaptation will happen on the big screen.
However, I am not a convert to your pages. I’ve tried to read you three times (I mean, how many times does one need to read a book to realize they don’t like it?) and each time I think I understand you a little better. But that doesn’t mean I like you.
The first time I cracked your pages, I utterly despised you. It was sixth grade and my teacher thought she would pull you off her shelf and read you aloud to us. Big mistake. To capture the attention of a room of eleven-year-olds, you need to be a little more relatable. Yes, my imagination was wild as a child, but science fiction isn’t usually a child’s first genre to love. And it’s hard to love (or even appreciate) something that is just so totally foreign. I mean, you made up words…you purposefully confused me (or so I thought) with your science-talk…your bad guy was not physically fighting anyone but worming his way into their brains. Ew! So I vowed to push you aside and not read you again.
Then I became a teacher. I felt bad for you. Why had I tossed you aside? What had you done to deserve my response of, “Oh, you’re reading A Wrinkle in Time? I’ve never liked it, but good luck…”? So like any good English teacher, I tried again. And again you were found wanting. By this time I had at least been introduced to science fiction and found my mind was able to accept more of your principles now. Sure, they’re squeezing themselves between time and space. Okay, they land on a two-dimensional planet by accident. I can make sense of this.
But like the last time the characters annoyed me. Meg Murry, the main character, seemed childish and impetuous (how many times does she stomp her foot in anger, as a thirteen year old? I’m around thirteen year olds all the time and I’ve never seen one stomp their foot). Charles Wallace, Meg’s precocious little brother, is just creepy. I have an almost-five-year-old, and I would be weirded out if he talked to me the way he does. And don’t get me started on Calvin O’Keefe, the kid who shows up randomly because of a “feeling” and never goes away. It’s a little too “we are fated to meet and now I love you”, which if you’ve ever heard me talk about teen romance books, this is my biggest pet peeve.
Maybe I’m being too harsh on you (I think I can hear you sobbing on my nightstand). You do have some good qualities. Like your message about love being stronger than hate. How Meg’s love leads her back to her brother and her father and gives her the ability to help them when noting else will. You also admit that it’s okay to be scared. No one has to be confident and brave all the time, but true bravery is doing what is necessary even when you are scared. You teach children not to judge others based on their appearances, like Meg did with Aunt Beast and the witches, because you never know what’s a person’s really like until you get to know them.
So let’s just agree to disagree and move on with our lives. People love you, so don’t worry, Wrinkle (just not THIS person)…you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Harper
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