No, I'm not crying. There's just a log in my eye. Okay, so I read this YEARS ago. Maybe when I was 14? I saw the movie first and that absolutely ruined me. I think this is about my 3rd reread, which proves this book is timeless. As well as, you know, heart ripping. I thought I'd be okay reading this. BUT I WASN'T. I JUST WAS NOT. I JUST ABOUT CHOKED UP WHEN THE DAD SAID:"Lord, boy, don't be a fool. God ain't gonna send any little girls to hell.I don't know why. But I really just started crying there. This book is amazing for it's little lines that just hit home so powerfully. It's a few sentences and -- BOOM -- it's gotten under your skin and into your soul.Also, I never really cared about "good writing" before now, but...THIS IS SERIOUSLY GOOD WRITING. Sure there are chapters were it's mostly "told" what's happened without actual scenes. But the dialogue?! It's perfection and natural, but not weighted down with unnecessaries or dialogue tags. Omg, it's just beautiful. And the story flows so perfectly. There are TWO foreshadows to the ending, which I only noticed now of course. And, towards the end, I just started feeling outright SICK because I knew what was coming. I noticed other things, being an adult reading this, that I wouldn't have picked up on originally. Like: + There's quite a bit of "fat shaming" here. Both Janice Avery (the school bully) and one of Jess' sisters get teased about being fat. It was sad and I felt uncomfortable, particularly when no one felt bad for doing this. + When the teacher reads out Leslie's essay she says "this is an unusual hobby for a girl"...which sort of tainted the chapter for me. + The whole Ms. Edmunds taking Jess to the city for the day was...weird. I mean, logically? She was just being nice. But you'd never get away iwth that in a million years these days. Especially since Ms. Edmunds didn't even talk to his parents (I know, I know, she told him to get permission and it was fine...but you know what I MEAN).I'm not saying these are heinous faults. I think they more just colour the book from the era it was written in. And if a book can still be timeless through all this? Then just GIVE IT A MILLION STICKERS AND HUG IT. Or slap it. Because it made me cry, dangit.I love the themes of uncanny friendship, of Jess feeling under-appreciated and overlooked and like a fish out of water in his family, and of being bullied and turning into the bullies. There is literally so much packed into this book. And of course, the gut-wrenching happenings of Leslie Burke.Also the ending made me freaking sob again. Darn this book. When Jess took May Belle into Terabithia? ERMAGERD. I CANNOT RIGHT NOW. (Aren't I supposed to be the mature reasonable adult here? Hand me the tissue box.)This book is a warm, soulful classic that broke me and I hate it but I love it. And that's all I'm gonna say.
My rating: 3 of 5 starsSource: Library Checkout[Warning: This review contains spoilers. Sorry! It's incredibly difficult to discuss this story without including them.]'He thought later how peculiar it was that here was probably the biggest thing in his life, and he had shrugged it off as nothing.'Jess Aarons lives in the small town of Lark Creek. He's spent his summer leading up to the fifth grade practicing on being the fastest runner in the school. With shock and amazement he's beaten in the first race by the new girl, Leslie Burke. Their friendship happens suddenly and becomes as comforting to each other as if they had been friends for years. In order to escape the normality of the world, they create an imaginary place in the woods called Terabithia. 'For the first time in his life he got up every morning with something to look forward to. Leslie was more than his friend. She was his other, more exciting self – his way to Terabithia and all the worlds beyond.'Jess was a quiet introspective child and Leslie's introduction into his life not only gave him the courage to do what he loves (drawing, despite his fathers disapproval) but she opened his eyes to the world and changed his outlook on life completely. His world is turned upside down when he comes home after an outing only to be told that Leslie is gone. Jess refused to believe this and he simply couldn't comprehend with what he was being told. He withdrew from reality and remained convinced that all he had to do was go to Leslie's house and knock on her door and she would be there, as she always is. This was a moment of pure heartbreak. His bravery in the subsequent days and how he chooses to honor Leslie's memory was truly admirable.As you can see, this is another read specifically done for Banned Books Week and yet another one that I fail to agree with. Bridge to Terabithia touches on grief and death and the loss of vital people in your life. Unfortunately it is to be expected that we will all have to deal with this at one point in time, some earlier than others. Considering this is a middle grade novel and is a beautifully written depiction of grief, I see no reason why a child could not read this for better understanding on eventual sadness. Katherine Paterson actually wrote this story after her son lost a childhood friend and she struggled to come up with the proper way of explaining it to him. It teaches them that it's normal to be sad when you lose someone, that it's okay to wallow in grief and mostly of the importance of honoring that persons memory.
Do You like book Bridge To Terabithia (1996)?
When I read this in fourth grade, I loved it because it was enchanting, and reminded me very much of 'secret hideouts' I made with friends at the same age. When I read it again later in life, aloud to my younger brother and sister ages 10 and 12, I was choking back tears to keep reading aloud, and they were crying. If you've never read it (or, I suppose now, seen the movie) beware, this review is a spoiler! What I have learned from this book is that our assumptions about children and what is "appropriate" for them are seriously flawed. We assume they need color, fantasy, and bling, and that they can't deal with "hard" topics like death and, oh, speaking of that, life. Kids are people too. And they do understand and can deal with hard topics in many ways better than us adults, who have learned to choke back the tears instead of actually crying. When I was a kid going to my secret hideouts, I wasn't just playing, I was escaping. If kids don't understand real life, then why do they run from it, then, as in this book (and in real life) gain life-altering skills while "away" and come back stronger? I may choke back tears now, but when I was 10, I went to my secret hideouts to cry and deal with things in my own way, in my own world, just like Leslie and Jesse do in Terabithia.
—Elaine
Bridge to Terabithia - I'm a grown man and I cried the duration of the last fifty pages. I gave this book five stars, here's why:It is absolutely incredible that a writer can invent a character, and bring him to life so convincingly that we find some of our deepest emotions aroused when we read black words on a white page. I was amazed at how deeply I felt towards some the characters in this book...fictional characters!Character development is absolutely masterful in Bridge to Terabithia. It is easy to identify with both Jess Aarons and Leslie Burke. They not only forge a friendship with each other that is profound, uplifting, and edifying - but they also forge that same friendship with you. I particularly enjoyed Jess's character - full of childlike reason, error, and love. I sometimes felt like he was my own child. It feels good to read him - especially within the last fifty pages. The majority of the plot is gentle and accents the beauty of childhood, often embellishing it with innocent humor. While nothing is unimportant or uninteresting, the author very skillfully tells the story in such a way that it feels like "everyday life". Any suspense is usually trivial and very scarce, but the story remains very compelling and thoroughly enjoyable to read. (I have to say that a good writer should be able to tell a gripping story without the sometimes garish and seemingly mandatory thrill of suspense found so much in fiction.)It seems heartless and depraved to say that I'm glad Kathrine Paterson and her son David were able to experience what they did (I can't think of a better way to say that without giving anything away.) - but I think Paterson gained some beautiful insight through that experience that she has used to help others, especially children - rather artfully I might add.I need to mention one thing I wasn't particularly fond of. Janice Avery (a minor character) reveals to her friends that her father beats her - "the kind of beating they send you to jail for" says Leslie. And at the advice of Leslie, Janice decides to pretend that her father is innocent, and that her friends are just spreading "rumors" all over school. The author says something like "kids shouldn't ever betray their parents, and that's just what Janice Avery had done." See the contradiction? "Honour thy father and thy mother" - "Domestic abuse is wrong, no matter what". I don't think this kind of conflict belongs in a children's novel, even as a very minor vehicle for plot development. I wish the author had omitted that, or at least found an acceptable solution.Notwithstanding its faults, I love this book. Read it, it's good for you.
—Thom
This is one of the books that taught me that Books Can Hurt. It was part of what I now consider to be my fourth grade teacher's reign of terror - she read Where the Red Fern Grows and Bridge to Terabithia out loud to us (and those are just the books I was in her class for), and I seriously think she did it for the days when, inevitably, the entire class would spend the afternoon weeping at our desks.That said, though - and it needed to be said - this is a good book; it was so engaging to me at that age that I got it from the library after the first day she read it to us and finished it by myself later that night. (Admittedly, this was not uncommon behavior for me. I did not like reading at other people's paces.) Of course, this meant I got to cry twice, and also spend the intervening time trying not to cry because I knew what was coming. The characters are engaging. The story is memorable even 25 years later. But this is the book that taught me two important lessons: do not trust Katherine Paterson as far as you can see her, and do not trust fourth grade teachers, either.
—thefourthvine
