When I was growing up in the 70s, the Ann Arbor Public Library encouraged kids to continue reading during no-school summer months by rewarding those who read a certain number of books (10? 20?) with an invitation to an end-of-summer party at the main branch, complete with ice cream and the showing of an age-appropriate film. Progress would be tracked throughout the summer with stickers on a cardboard display at each local branch – each sticker representing one book read.
I was one of those kids who read a lot back then, so this was never a problem for me. Inevitably by the time August rolled around I was either at or near the top of the sticker-board. It’s funny, looking back, how much I enjoyed going to the local Reading Branch (that was its name) of the library and scanning the shelves for new books to read. A pleasure that’s sort of … lost in the mists of time, unfortunately. But a good memory.
Our countdown continues!
No. 14: The Mad Scientist’s Club (series) (Bertrand R. Brinley, 1965)
It’s possible this should be higher-up, nearer 20. I don’t remember this book being profound, or meaningful, in any really significant way. It’s just a collection of stories about the adventures of the eponymous club of kids – the story I remember most has them creating a fake Loch-Ness-Monster-type machine for … some reason. But those stories were engaging, entertaining, and fun. Not bad on a summer afternoon!
No. 13: The Book of Three (series) (Lloyd Alexander, 1964)
The series by Lloyd Alexander (which included The Black Cauldron, Taran Wanderer, etc.) served as my introduction to the fantasy genre, and as such to stories with stakes beyond “will we get in trouble with our parents?” These stories involved characters who were actively evil, with death, love, honor, resourcefulness, and real courage all on the table. Another series I got into over a decade before Disney brought it to the silver screen with the really weak “Black Cauldron” movie.
No. 12: The Gammage Cup (Carol Kendall, 1959)
I’m not sure there’s another book on this list that’s as difficult to categorize as this one. Is it fantasy? Is it action? According to Wikipedia (as I have little memory of the plot): “It tells the story of a race of little people called the Minnipins who, despite inner divisions, must unite to defend their village and the valley in which they live against an evil race of humanoid creatures called the Mushrooms or Hairless Ones.” It sounds like fantasy, obviously, but at least as I remember it there’s no magic or dragons or anything. It’s just … a different world. The main themes are individualism and conformity – as they are in many of the books on this list in some way or another – but the lessons are subtle, and masked by an entertaining drama.
No. 11: The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett, 1911)
When I was young, the prospect of actual adult anger was a real fear for me, and books and movies that included it were often beyond simply scary. The scene at the end of the Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory movie, for instance, where an enraged Willy Wonka whirls on Charlie and Grandpa Joe to berate them for sneaking the Fizzy Lifting Drinks, terrified me, and to this day adds a darkness to that movie that affects my memories of it. And that scene took something like 10 seconds!
My feelings about The Secret Garden are similar. The famous children’s book, about a young girl who discovers and then enters a secret garden in her intimidating uncle’s house despite his express instructions, and the (again, fairly brief) scene of his discovery of her disobedience, haunts my experience of the book. I loved the story, and read it several times, but each time caught my breath as she expressly disobeyed him (“no! he told you not to do that!”), and hurried past the description of his anger.
On another note … who would have thought a story about two kids finding a hidden playground would be so entertaining? It’s not a magic garden. It doesn’t even have slides or a merry-go-round! It’s just a story of exploration, discovery … as well as loss and grief. Really powerful stuff.
No. 10: Nobody’s Family is Going to Change (Louise Fitzhugh, 1974)
I have a lot to say about this one. First, it’s almost certainly the least-well-known book on this list — the only one without its own Wikipedia page, in fact – so it’s quite possible you don’t know of it. It was written by Louise Fitzhugh, the author of the “Harriet the Spy” books (which I never read) … who died of a brain aneurysm eight days before this book was published.
Nobody’s Family is Going to Change was challenging in a way no other kids’ book I read was – in a way most adult books aren’t. It was about an overweight African-American girl and her younger brother, each trying to convince their parents to accept them for who they are. The girl wants to be a lawyer, and her brother is desperate to become a dancer, even though everyone in their family is convinced that neither role is appropriate.
The book is presented as a series of plots and schemes put forward by the two to catch their parents’ attention and bring them around. What’s so breathtaking is that … none of those schemes work. Not even the ones that all of our experience with such stories has prepared us to believe will be effective. You’re sure that when the parents are tricked into coming to one of the boy’s dance performances, for example, they will see and understand how good he is, and how much he needs to do this. But … they don’t.
My memory of the conclusion is that the two kids, independently, learn that they’re going to have to push through to be who they want to be without getting approval from everyone around them, and that that’s just what the world is. It’s – as I said – it’s a breathtaking take-away, and one that I couldn’t quite believe I was being left with. Everything I had ever read and been told said that if you’re clear enough, and committed enough, people will realize how special you are. This said, “no, probably not – but that’s ok too.”
The author, I just read, was a lesbian, and that obviously informs much of her writing, especially in this book, about desperate hopes for acceptance, but the need to push forward even when it’s not coming.
I love this book.
No. 9: James and the Giant Peach; Charlie and the Chocolate Factory; Danny, the Champion of the World (Roald Dahl, 1961, 1964, 1975)
It’s obviously cheating to include three books here (you could even add Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, 1972), but Roald Dahl would otherwise crowd other authors out of this list, and that wouldn’t be fair. Nonetheless, I read each of them multiple times, and Danny, the Champion of the World captures a healthy father/son relationship so magnificently – accurately capturing the thrill a young boy gets when he feels valued and appreciated and trusted and actually liked by his father – that it resonated profoundly with me.
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