I've long been a fan of the film adaptation of this book, and I watch it semi-regularly. Every time it came on TV when I had satellite, I would watch it (which was pretty often). When I switched to streaming-only, it was on Netflix, so I watched it for "noise" quite often.
In re-reading this book, the biggest difference is in the ending! The film added a lot of drama to the climax of this book, and while it was certainly necessary for the film version, I think this book is simply perfect as it is.
I'm planning to read a couple more Roald Dahl books in the upcoming Dog Days of Summer Readathon. What do you recommend? The only ones I've read are the Charlie books, George's Marvelous Medicine, and Matilda. Somehow I think I might've tried James and the Giant Peach along the line, but I don't know if I ever finished it.
But Sarah Crewe is unsinkable. This is one of those children's novels in which the heroine is unbelievably upbeat and determined to be good. So unrealistic. But did it matter? Nah. It was a fun, cozy book and I enjoyed it immensely.
I think I might've actually preferred this book to The Secret Garden, since we all know I had issues with that ending.
This is a collection of poems based on Grimm's folk and fairy tales. I've read it umpteen times, and I still love it. I wasn't as in the mood for it this time as I have been on prior readings, but it's still good stuff.
Sexton narrates the poems from the POV of a "wicked witch." The aging, cigarette smoking, bitter, everyday witch, that is.
Just read this...
Once the wife of a rich man was on her deathbed and she said to her daughter Cinderella: Be devout. Be good. Then I will smile down from heaven in the seam of a cloud. The man took another wife who had two daughters, pretty enough but with hearts like blackjacks. Cinderella was their maid. She slept on the sooty hearth each night and walked around looking like Al Jolson. Her father brought presents home from town, jewels and gowns for the other women but the twig of a tree for Cinderella. She planted that twig on her mother's grave and it grew to a tree where a white dove sat. Whenever she wished for anything the dove would drop it like an egg upon the ground. The bird is important, my dears, so heed him.
Pretty great, right? You can read the whole poem here.
Little reviews for little books. Which teensy weensy reads have you undertaken lately?