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Each individual matters, and their choices affect more than you can tell. It deals with real-life issues (although I don't think nuclear war is as present a threat as it once was), ranging from world politics to intra-family tensions and violence.
I read A Wind in the Door next, and loved it. The first time I read A Swiftly Tilting Planet, I wasn't too impressed.
I first read A Wrinkle in Time, and enjoyed it. However, having read it a few times and as I've matured myself, I have come to appreciate this book very much.
I wasn't as invested in the characters Charles Wallace "goes Within" as the primary characters, although the idea of that process was fascinating and well depicted. This book is much more dense than its two prequels, and I wouldn't give it to as young of a child to read as I would the others.
The implication of the interdependence of the universe is, in my opinion, a much-needed lesson today. In summary, while this book requires a more focused read than the somewhat simpler (though still quite thoughtful) predecesors, it contains many ideas of beauty, danger, and love that make it a book that I come back to read again and again.
I found their deep psychic bonding (kything) to be inspiration--and a potential model for us all.On the flip side, though, I didn't like L'Engle's message about having children as a means of salvation (she loves that idea), nor her idea that family is so wonderful. She thinks differently from most people--in such a rich way.
But I picked up the book again a few days ago and gave it a second shot, this time with more satisfaction. I started this book a few months ago, but put it down because I found the magical-kids-saving-the-world-from-nuclear-holocaust plot to be cheesy--even flimsy.
(And I'm all for saving the world, don't get me wrong).In terms of her creativity L'Engle really has something special. Although I still found the save-the-world plot to be cheesy and weak--not really emotional or believable--Madeleine L'Engle offers this book some incredible strengths: a magically unusual creativity and some uniquely beautiful characters.
That's what kept me going, because I honestly couldn't have cared less about "saving the world" from Mad Dog Branzillo. The strength of her creativity allowed me to enjoy a book that easily could have become fragmented as it jumped all over the place through time and space.I also especially loved the connection between Charles Wallace and Meg.
If we really want to save the planet, it's not going to come through traveling through time with unicorns and rewriting history (as L'Engle espouses), rather, through looking within ourselves, breaking from the lies and sickness of our family of origin, and getting fully real and honest with ourselves--and NOT having kids until we've done all this.
Meg is very incidental here, and despite Charles Wallace's specialness throughout the book I (kind of obviously) preferred Meg. More specifically, I frequently reread A Wrinkle in Time and A Wind in the Door. Even as a child, I felt some uncomfortable sympathy with the "bad" siblings and cousins in this book. I was curious how I would experience it now.
This just isn't my favorite of the three. And the answer is: I still don't love it. At least not in the same way. I periodically reread this trilogy. (Note: I'm aware that there were eventually five books set in the world. The notion that the wrong father = a bad baby sits wrongly with me.
That feeling got worse as an adult.My passion for the trilogy as a whole remains what it is. Even in my least favorite installment I still remembered it well enough to recite large passages word for word from memory.
But I haven't read the last two. Even as a child, I had the most mixed feelings about A Swiftly Tilting Planet.
To be honest, compared to the other books I would probably give it three stars. I also missed having Calvin as a character, although his mother makes for an interested addition.
I like that L'Engle felt the need to question the way that she drew his family as trailer trash in the earlier books.Mostly, I'm uncomfortable with the biology as destiny side of the novel. But it gets four since I just can't bear to give one of L'Engle's novels less.
A trilogy it was when I was a kid, and to me it is still a trilogy).
So a good thirty years later, I did. Suddenly, Meg and Calvin are now married AND Meg's pregnant AND Mrs. What is he). Murry.
Oh yeah, guess they gotta kythe again -- we went over that in "A Wind in the Door" so there's no need to rehash. Whatever happened to plot development. A friend tried to convince me that I should give it another try. Decades ago, eagerly anticipating a sequel on par with "A Wrinkle in Time" and "A Wind in the Door," I read a few pages into "A Swiftly Tilting Planet" and was immediately disappointed. A handful of tropes are recycled; by this point the book almost cannibalizes itself. Forget the tease with which the exotic dragonlike cherub(im) was introduced in "A Wind in the Door." (Does he exist.
Get us a winged unicorn, pronto -- everyone knows what a unicorn looks like, so there's no need to dwell on it. Charles Wallace needs Meg's help as a glorified reference book.
It's abstract, it's confusing, and it's humorless. Murry has won the Nobel AND the president's on the phone with Mr.
But after all this rush to jump-start the plot, the book sags into a long, tedious Gordian knot entwining generations of a family in locales from Wales to Patagonia. I almost wish I hadn't.The concepts that were revealed gradually in the first two books, piquing the curiosity of both the characters and the reader, are now almost lifeless reflexes.
Charles Wallace needs a guide for his quest. The rivalry between peaceful and warlike brother is enacted and reenacted as names like "Brandon" and "Zilla" and "Maddok" reappear in countless combinations ("Branzillo", "Beezie", "Zyll").
Whatever happened to the playful genius that brought us the very real speech-impaired witches in "A Wrinkle in Time" or the cloned school principal in "A Wind in the Door".In "A Swiftly Tilting Planet," Charles Wallace builds a model of a tesseract, the time-folding structure at the core of "A Wrinkle in Time." The transformation of a concept into a plastic object is a sadly appropriate symbol for the book's lifeless recycling of its inventive predecessors.
A wonderful ending to a most original series. I loved this series as a child and as an adult i am still able to enjoy it.
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