Bridge to Terabithia

How I managed to get through my childhood without reading Bridge to Terabithia I honestly could not tell you. It was one of those books that I always heard about, and I’m pretty sure an excerpt of it ended up on my state standardized testing in fourth grade, but here I am, a senior in college and have just finished reading it for the first time. And guess what? I loved it!

            Yes, yes, that is a hasty judgment without any supporting detail. I’m getting there. In this book author Katherine Paterson has tackled the daunting task of presenting death to children in a way that makes sense and yet does not demean a child’s emotional capability. The language is sparse and beautiful, the story simple. Jess and Leslie are the boy and girl next door, drawn together in their rural town initially by their differences, and soon become the best of friends. Together they create the fantasy world of Terabithia, a land where they reign as king and queen and stalk the forests fighting giants. There they escape their teachers and family, free to share secret hopes and dreams, and free to form a bond that transcends romantic love. Keep in mind, these two endearing protagonists are still children, eleven or so, and their friendship is pure, the coming together of two souls in wonderful harmony.

            Of course, such a beautiful story is bound to meet a tragic end. Books don’t often make me cry, but by the last chapter I had tears running down my face as I faced death, and the acceptance of grief. For fear of spoiling any plot points, I won’t go into detail, but will only say that Paterson understands the grieving process and writes it with integrity, allowing her characters to cope in their own way, and pull at the readers’ heartstrings all the while. She also threw in a bit with a dog, which is a sure fire way to wrench my heart. Perhaps Paterson’s greatest achievement is that in the moment of grief, no one knows how to act. Each character takes a different emotional tact, and the touching scenes come from the intersection of these emotions, particularly Jess and Leslie’s father, where the line between adulthood and childhood is completely decimated by the shared loss.

            It’s a short book, and I feel as though my emotion while reading it, through profound, has been neatly categorized. I was charmed, enchanted, devastated and then given a glimmer of hope. This classic book is worth it’s reputation, and I will be sure to make sure any child of mine reads it well before their twenty-first birthday, and then many times after.