From Page to Screen · Middle-Grade

From Page to Screen: A Wrinkle in Time

A Wrinkle in Time has never been one of my favorite books. I feel like it’s important to say that upfront. I liked it but didn’t love it as a kid, and I felt about the same when I re-read it recently in preparation for the movie. I’m a book person, and this is a book blog, but for once, I went into a movie adaptation of a book without any kind of set-in-stone feeling that the book would be better, no matter what they did. This is not one of those books for me.

Many movies based on books fall shortest in character development. While books have hundreds upon hundreds of pages to flesh out their characters, not to mention the ability to show readers what they’re thinking and feeling, movies have to rely on dialogue and acting choices within a much more limited time frame. However, the characters in A Wrinkle in Time were beautifully realized. Charles Wallace in particular comes across as brilliant and childlike at the same time, which is quite the accomplishment for a young child actor playing a five-year-old genius. Meg’s parents and Calvin all remain mostly true to how they were portrayed in the book, but in Meg’s story, the movie actually takes things further and does – dare I say? – a better job of exploring who she is. For instance, in both book and movie, Mrs. Whatsit gives her the “gift” of her flaws to help her on Camazotz, but in the book this just means that she has to tap into her stubbornness to resist IT’s power. In the movie, it’s by accepting herself, faults and all, that she’s able to resist and free her mind from IT’s control.

The characters’ relationships and interactions with each other ring true. Mr. and Mrs. Murray’s love for each other, their love for their children, the growing friendship and attraction between Meg and Calvin, and the mentorship provided by Mrs. Which, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Whatsit all play out believably on screen. But where the movie really shines is in showing the deep, powerful love between Meg and Charles Wallace. The moment where she realizes that her love for her brother is stronger than IT’s hold over him is already by far the most powerful moment of the book, and would have been one of the worst places to fall short on. Thankfully, the two young actors really do an exceptional job, not only on that scene but on building up a convincing brother/sister relationship throughout the movie that gives the scene a strong foundation to stand on.

My biggest problem with the book is the stilted dialogue, and in that area, I’d say the movie is better. It’s still sometimes a bit cheesy – for instance, Mrs. Who speaking only in quotes gets old pretty fast – but at least the kids do talk to each other pretty much like normal kids, and the three Mrs. W’s aren’t really human anyway.

It’s not until they get to Camazotz that things begin to go wrong. In the book, Camazotz is both far more mundane and far more disturbing. It’s not the origin of the darkness, and it’s not some kind of nightmare illusion planet. It’s just a planet – a surprisingly earth-like planet at that – which has completely given in to the darkness. To me, the idea that a whole planet full of people – humans, because the people of Camazotz are human, or at least close enough that no one can tell the difference – would collectively decide to choose evil over good, to give themselves up to complete conformity and choose to let themselves be mind-controlled pawns of a pure evil entity – is far more terrifying than the more intense action sequences of the movie. The people of Camazotz were explicitly real and alive in the book, and some were even capable of resisting, like the little boy who throws away his ball. In the movie, they’re all just illusions.

By extension, one of the novel’s main themes is lost. Or, at least, it loses some of its power. Camazotz was a place of complete conformity, and a greatly exaggerated reflection of the peer pressure Meg and Calvin experience at school. On a different level, the society shown on Camazotz suggests that evil succeeds when people stop thinking and acting as individuals. Meg, Calvin, and Charles Wallace actually speak to several of Camazotz’ people, some of whom are too afraid to help and some of whom are simply indifferent. Nowhere do we see a human inhabitant of Camazotz, aside from the red-eyed man, actually doing something evil – but we do see them going about their daily business as if the world that they live in isn’t consumed by evil. Camazotz in the book is sort of a cautionary tale for those of us on Earth, but in the movie it’s not much more than a pop-up book of nightmares.

So, was the book better? Yes … and no. Everything from the moment they arrive on Camazotz to the end of the movie – with the exception of Meg’s love saving Charles Wallace – was completely off the mark. As an adaptation, it can hardly compare when it completely overlooks one of the book’s main themes in favor of pointless action sequences. But from a character point of view, it was excellent, and perhaps even better than the book. I did like it, and I’ll probably buy the DVD when it comes out, but I still wish someone involved had understood what the point was to all those identical houses and balls bouncing in rhythm.

Middle-Grade · Summer Reading Mission 2017

Summer Reading Mission: Percy Jackson

This is another series I loved as a kid, but haven’t thought much about in years. This past week, I re-read The Lightning Thief, the first book of the original series. I wasn’t sure quite what to expect, because first of all, I’m about twice the age I was when I first fell in love with the series, and secondly, I know a lot more about mythology than I did back then. And I can’t say I got quite as caught up in it this time around. But I can see what I liked about it, and maybe even appreciate it in new ways.

One thing in particular that I appreciate is how real the kids in the book are. Kids’ books where the kid characters are too grown-up or too perfect are a pet peeve of mine. These kids have flaws. They have insecurities. They sometimes get into trouble, and they’re definitely twelve-year-olds dealing with things bigger than anything twelve-year-olds should have to. But they’re good kids, and they rise to the challenge and mature as the series goes on.

The mythology is pretty decent, too. It’s all adapted for modern times, so for example, the entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles, Medusa runs a statue shop, and future heroes train with Chiron at a summer camp in New York. I remember finding all that very fun and not too difficult to separate from the “real” myths I learned about in school, although I do wonder if that’s still the case for kids who read the Percy Jackson books before they learn about mythology from other sources.

There’s a lot in mythology that’s really not appropriate for kids, and it’s a delicate balance telling the stories in a child-friendly way without warping them too much. The Percy Jackson books do a much better job of this than, say, Disney’s Hercules. I’m sure it helped that Rick Riordan was a teacher before he became an author, and already had some experience with adapting myths for children. It probably also helped that the Percy Jackson books are new stories, rather than strict retellings of existing myths.

The biggest difference, I think, between reading these books as a pre-teen and reading them now is … well, I’m a lot older now. I’m not dealing with the same things as my twelve-year-old self, I don’t find the same things funny or scary, and there’s something very over-the-top about the Percy Jackson books that was okay then but seemed cheesy this time around. I kind of expected that. I tried reading the Heroes of Olympus series when it came out and didn’t make it very far. It wasn’t that the books weren’t any good, but I was just too old for them by that point and couldn’t get invested in the new characters.

That doesn’t mean I disliked The Lightning Thief this time around. On the contrary, I found it to be fun and exciting. I’m thrilled that there are now so many of these books – not just the original Greek mythology series, but others that focus on Roman, Egyptian, and Norse mythology as well. Anything that kids enjoy and can learn something from is definitely worth reading, even if it’s something that most of them will outgrow as they mature.


Series Out-of-Order

When I first read Among the Betrayed, by Margaret Peterson Haddix, in elementary school, I didn’t know it was part of a series. I definitely didn’t know it was the third book in the series, or that it picked up at the moment Among the Impostors left off, from a different character’s point of view. I just saw it in the Scholastic catalog and thought it looked interesting. Sometimes I still wonder if I’d see the Shadow Children series differently if I’d started with Among the Hidden.

I definitely read book 3 differently. I assumed from the start that Nina was trustworthy and that Mr. Talbot wasn’t, whereas it might be the other way around for someone who read them in order. I wondered along with Nina whether Jen had ever existed, and I believed she was really in danger where someone who read the first two might have figured out she was being tested. Perhaps most importantly, I had to figure out the weird rules of the series’ dystopian world in a book written for kids who already knew.

It affected the way I read the first two books, as well. I knew not to trust Jason. I knew that Jen’s father was a double agent. I could guess from the start that Jen’s rally would fail. I was as surprised by Luke’s comparatively normal childhood as his friends at school would be later, because I had Nina’s as a reference point.

Did it change the way I read the rest of the series? I don’t know. That’s a harder “what if” question to consider. I went into the last four books having read all of the first three. I was always attached to Nina, even though she was a minor character outside of book 3, but then again I felt the same way about Trey, and I certainly didn’t start with his book. But did I read the books through the lens of her experiences instead of Luke’s? I’m really not sure, but I think I’ll always wonder.

Middle-Grade · Young Adult

Fictional Metaphors, Real-Life Issues

One of my favorite authors as a kid was Margaret Peterson Haddix. I still have most of her novels on the bookshelf I reserve for childhood nostalgia books, and I’ve been re-reading some of them. This time around, I’ve been struck by something I could never have put into words when I was 10 or 12 years old: the books deal with real issues kids face through sci-fi and fantasy metaphors.

Let me explain. One of her books – Claim to Fame – is about a girl who can hear everything anyone says about her, no matter where they are. No real kid is going to have that experience, but kids do deal with gossip and peer pressure. They do worry about what their friends are saying behind their backs. Another book, Double Identity, is about a girl who is a clone of her older “sister”, who died in a car crash before she was born. Real children might feel that they are living in an older sibling’s shadow, and twins – the closest real-world equivalent to clones – certainly struggle to define themselves as individuals. Game Changer talks about school cliques, bullying, and popularity, but uses an alternate world where the nerds are popular and the jocks are outcasts to do so. Turnabout features two women who are aging backwards and are now teenagers. Aimed at an age group that may be dealing with losing grandparents or other older relatives, the book explores old age and death via characters the readers’ age in a way that would not be possible without the sci-fi element. And the Missing series is about time travel and historical mysteries, but it’s also about adopted kids who want to know where they come from – which happens to be different time periods instead of just different parents.

I think there’s a lot of value in this. Kids who read middle grade books are old enough to be dealing with serious issues, like identity, peer pressure, bullying, and even death, but not necessarily ready for books high schoolers or adults might read which address these issues directly. Tying it into the supernatural aspect of the story seems like a good way to let kids explore these issues without hitting too close to home. I know it certainly worked for me when I was younger.


A Bookworm’s Adventures in Bookland

… yes, that’s a reference to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. It seems fitting to me. After all, there’s nothing that can pull you down a rabbit-hole into a world where anything is possible faster than picking up a book. Metaphorically, at least.

Hi, I’m Sarah. I’m a recent college graduate in my early 20’s, and if you know me, you’ll probably know that I love reading. If you don’t, you probably guessed that from the title of my blog. So, what can you expect to find here? Everything from book reviews, to theories about my favorite series, to random thoughts I just couldn’t help sharing. I read everything from classics to historical fiction to science fiction and fantasy, but I’ll probably talk a lot about YA and middle grade books. I may be “all grown up” now and definitely look at them from a different perspective than I did when I was ten or fifteen, but in my opinion, books for older kids can be much deeper and more worthwhile than most adults give them credit for.

Anyway, that’s all for now, but be sure to check back soon for more.