andreadisaster.com

I know. I missed Mining Monday. Please let me say that I had no intention of doing so. I was caught in a project of sorts yesterday from 8:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. I know I don’t have to explain myself, but I’m disappointed. December is a hard month to do anything but shop, eat and worry.

Anyways, I recently finished reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I couldn’t remember at first if I had read it, though it was quite possible, as historical fiction of pre-teen girls were a particular favorite of mine growing up (see: American Girl books, the Dear America series). I hadn’t, and by the end, I was glad I read it now.

As a kid, I liked characters by which I could see myself, a void which the AE and to some extreme the DA books fulfilled. They didn’t have to be mirrors of myself, and these similarities may even just be in the details. A character’s outgoing personality, her love of the outdoors or the conflicts with their friends were all things I could relate. If I would have read Tree at that young age, I probably would have tried to insert myself in the story, which wouldn’t be fair for the sake of the book.

Several reasons: 1) The book is much better than whether or not I ‘relate’ to the protagonist. I know this now. I wasn’t aware of it then, however.  2) Unlike those works of fiction which were written centuries after the events occurred in the 1990s, Tree was written several decades later and is regarded as a roman a clef of author Betty Smith’s life. I wouldn’t have appreciated that it was nonfiction disguised as fiction in fifth grade as I can now. 3) Also, at over 400 pages, I might have given up at some point. I’d like to think I wouldn’t, it’s really good.

I thought the book was heartbreaking, sad and beautiful. I haven’t read anything I loved as much in a long time.