So. Bridge to Terabithia.
Are we all ready to start sobbing now? Like, hard?
Bridge to Terabithia has the dubious distinction of being one of the most frequently banned and/or challenged books in the United States, supposedly because of its references to witchcraft and atheism and a lot of swearing. I have another theory: it’s just so completely tragic and heartbreaking.
Also, when you are ten, the title just shrieks of false advertising.
Ok, before I go on, a confession: like many, I found my first reading of this book sad and tragic. In my case, though, it wasn’t the sudden and unexpected death, but because I had, foolishly enough, BELIEVED IN THE TITLE, which said, and I am just going to type this out again from lingering childhood resentment, Bridge to Terabithia, so I spent the entire book eagerly waiting for the characters to cross over to Terabithia and then to Narnia. The book even had an early scene where Jess finds himself bullied by his fellow students, somewhat like the first scene in The Silver Chair. But, (MAJOR SPOILER) THEY NEVER DID. FALSE ADVERTISING, Thomas Crowell Co (or now Harper Collins), FALSE ADVERTISING. I have never completely recovered.
Having said all that, Wikipedia and Katherine Paterson claim that Terabithia isn’t even exactly meant to be Narnia (thanks to Bridget McGovern for pointing this out), or the magical island Terebinthia mentioned in the Narnia books, even though Leslie keeps mentioning Narnia as she creates Terabithia thus creating a lot of confusion, like, THANKS LESLIE.
And now that I have that out of my system, moving on.
So, the story.
Bridge to Terabithia tells the story of the unlikely friendship between Jess and Leslie, two ten year olds living in a rural area not too far from Washington, DC. Jess belongs to a family with four girls and one boy. In a few well chosen sentences, Paterson establishes just how poor this family is: Jess has to share a room with his younger sisters; the walls are thin; the whole family has to pull together to buy one Barbie doll; his father is upset because he has a huge commute to a working class job that doesn’t even pay enough to buy decent Christmas presents; his older sisters are frustrated because they can’t have the same things their friends have; and the ongoing financial stress means has made his mother short tempered and irritable.
Jess is isolated for other reasons than money: he is generally inarticulate, not particularly good at school (and bored out of his mind in class), with only one gift: drawing. Desperate to prove himself to his family and friends, he decides to focus on running. It’s not a bad plan until the new girl who just moved in next door, Leslie, beats him in a race. Since she’s a girl, the other boys attempt to say this doesn’t count. Jess, to his credit, stands up for her, and slowly they become friends.
Leslie’s parents have decided to leave a comfortable home in the suburbs and instead head to a rural farm to figure out what’s important. In some ways it’s an admirable thought, but reading this as an adult I can’t help but think that they really should have checked out the school system first. Lark Creek Elementary is too short of money to even have adequate amounts of paper, let alone a cafeteria, athletic equipment, or sufficient desks. Classes are overcrowded. The school has managed to find a part time music teacher, Miss Edmunds, but the full time teachers are tired and overworked.
Leslie is completely different from anyone Jess has ever known. She is imaginative, well read, talented, and adventurous: she has a gift for words, and she goes scuba diving. She creates a fantasy world where she and Jess can play, and tells him stories. (Jess helps build their playhouse, which they reach via a swing rope.) She is almost fearless.
I say almost, since Leslie is scared of one thing: social interaction. She is not good at making friends or fitting in, and Jess knows this. Not only does he give her his friendship, but he also encourages her to reach out to abused child turned bully Janice Avery and May Belle. As her parents later note, Jess is one of the best things that ever happened to Leslie. They plot revenge against the school bullies, and for Christmas, they get each other the perfect gifts: Jess gets Leslie a puppy, and Leslie gets Jess watercolor paints.
Which does not mean that all goes smoothly. Jess is ten, and when his music teacher calls him to offer him a trip to visit the National Art Gallery and the Smithsonian, alone, he jumps for it without thinking much if at all. He does, after all, have a crush on her. (The teacher, not Leslie; one of the best parts of this book is that the friendship between Jess and Leslie is completely platonic.) Jess has also been struggling with how to tell Leslie that he’s terrified of her plans to swing over a flooding creek—he can’t swim—and this gets him out of that argument. He takes off without informing Leslie or his parents.
Incidentally, this is the one bit of the book that has not dated well at all: I cannot envision any teacher taking a ten year old student to the Smithsonian Museum for the day without at the very least speaking to parents these days, and, given concerns over child abuse, probably not even propose it in the first place unless the teacher was a very very long term friend of the parents or a relative. Miss Edmunds is neither. Sure, the trip is entirely benign in nature—Miss Edmunds has seen Jess’ art, and wants to nurture his talent—but Jess has a crush on her, so, still.
Not that this matters much, because when Jess returns, Leslie is dead.
This is both by far the best part of the book and the underlying reason, I suspect, why the book has so often been challenged. It’s incredibly, brutally, unfair. That’s part of the point, I know, but when you are a kid you have no indication that this is coming, and you are thrown. (Reading it through now as an adult I can see that Paterson did throw into small hints of what was coming, but I can assure you that I missed these hints completely when I was a kid.) Jess is even more thrown than kid readers: he is furious, and disbelieving, and even more furious and disbelieving that people want to tell him how to mourn—the same people that never appreciated Leslie when she was alive. He also feels incredibly guilty, thinking that if he had just invited Leslie to join him and the music teacher, she would never had crossed the flooding creek alone, and would still be alive. (That’s pretty debatable.) And even if not—well, he had still been wrong not to invite her. (That’s less debatable.)
This part is written with understanding and anger and grief; it’s beautifully done. And if I found myself wanting more scenes towards the end—Jess speaking with Janice Avery, Jess speaking with his music teacher—in a way, the absence of these scenes only strengthens the book. It’s incomplete and undone because sometimes life is like that. And the scene where Mrs. Myers tells Jess that when her husband died, she didn’t want to forget, telling Jess that it’s ok to grieve and to remember, is beautifully done and only strengthens this feeling: death is an unfinished thing.
The book has other beautifully done subtle touches: for instance, the way Paterson shows that Jess, like many ten year olds, seemingly hates his superficial older sisters—and yet, they band together with him to buy a Barbie doll for their younger sister, and Brenda is the one that can and does tell him straight out that Leslie is dead. It’s cruel, but it ends the suspense. Her later statement that Jess is not mourning enough (on the outside; he’s mourning a lot on the inside) shows that she is paying attention; she just has no idea how to talk to him. Which, again, is a part of mourning and grief. It’s just one of many little touches.
So, why the banning?
Well, in theory this is because of the book’s attitude towards witchcraft and religion, and the swearing. The witchcraft stuff can be dismissed easily enough—Jess and Leslie do talk about magic as they build their imaginary country of Terabithia, but only in the context of Let’s Pretend. The only real magic within the book, and this is arguable, happens at the end when Jess manages to describe Terabithia to May Belle to the point where she can almost see it, in her imagination, a sharing of an imaginary world that allows Jess to start healing. And that’s about it.
The religion argument has a bit more to it. Leslie’s parents are apparently atheists (or at least non-church goers; but Leslie states she has no need to believe.) Jess and Leslie have serious conversations about religion. Leslie has never been to church; Jess has, but has not thought much about it. His younger sister, May Belle, firmly believes that people who don’t read the Bible—like Leslie—are going straight to hell when they die, and starts to worry intensely about Leslie. (I am more inclined to believe Jess’ father who later firmly declares that God wouldn’t send little girls to hell.) But for those worried that the book preaches a message of secular humanism and atheism—well, I can’t help but notice that the kid who does go more or less irregularly to church and at least has a stated belief in the Bible, even if he doesn’t seem to know much about it or care much, is allowed to live. The non-believer dies. I would think the worry might be in the other direction.
The swearing seems pretty tame by today’s standards, although I can see some concern for younger readers. I suppose the book does, to a certain extent, encourage a retreat into a fantasy life for healing and play, but again, it also has a very strong message to be careful about this—following her fantasies is part of what gets Leslie killed.
Nonetheless, even the religion and the retreat into fantasy feel like surface issues. I think what people are really objecting to is a book that admits that sometimes kids die, and it doesn’t make any sense, and people do not necessarily deal well with it. In theory, children’s books are meant to be Good Places. Safe Places. Places where only Good Things Happen and where children don’t die for no reason at all and possibly go straight to hell. We want to protect children, even in books and in what they read.
This theory of course ignores a long standing history of often terrifying didactic literature, as well as multiple examples of angelic little children dying sweetly—hi, Beth from Little Women. Leslie breaks this mold in some ways: she’s certainly not angelic (her trick on Janice Avery is downright cruel), but she’s also not incurably evil. And she breaks the mold in another way: it’s not her death that transforms Jess. It’s her life.
It’s a real book. It’s a painful book. It’s a book where the kids don’t really get to go to their fantasy land. And so, it’s been banned. Even as some of us hope that in some reality, Leslie did get to go to Terabithia.
Banned Books Week 2013 is being celebrated from Sept. 22 to the 28; further information on Banned and Frequently Challenged Books is available from the American Library Association.
Mari Ness lives in central Florida.
I haven’t read the book, but I saw the movie and it is in fact beautiful and tragic.
When I originally read “The Bridge to Terabithia”, the ending made me so very angry. I felt betrayed, I think because my first introductions to books were all wish fulfillment. This was the first book I ever read that featured something so horrible and unfair and overwhelmingly sad. It took me a while to forgive it that death of my innocence. When I read it now, I think it’s gorgeous in its honesty and hope.
Same here, only seen the movie.
And after Leslie dies, I couldn’t grieve with Jess, until that moment, at the funeral, where her parents hug him instead of condemning him. I had been braced so HARD for that moment, for Leslie’s parents to be revealed as cruel and heartless in the face of his grief, that when they hugged him, I was just undone.
Most of my friends were made to read this book in elementary school. I was not. But I remember it being the first book that kids talked about, and not in an “omg this book was awesome you must read it” way but rather a “I can’t believe we read it. That book was a complete betrayal of everything I thought it was going to be about” sort of way. None of my friends would even tell me what it was about, just that it was “terrible.” (We were in elementary school, so such a non-descript description makes sense.)
So I avoided reading it until I heard the movie was coming out when I was in college. Then I sucked it up–braced myself for something so terrible that even years later my friends wouldn’t talk about it–and read it.
This book destroyed me. I’ve never been much of a crier when it came to books and I wept through the entire ending sequence. I now understand why so many of my friends were scarred by this book. This book is cruel and brutal, but so is life, but it’s also beautiful. The ending was perfect.
Also I completely agree with the false advertisement.
I am one of those who did lose someone at a relatively young age (my father; I was 11) and I read this book for the first time maybe a year later. I loved it. I understand why it might be hard to read, but for me, the brutal suddenness of Leslie’s death rang very true. Nobody wants to come home and find a friend, sibling or parent has died, but sometimes it happens, like it or not, and it is at least as brutal as depicted here. I will always be thankful Paterson did not downplay the impact of Leslie’s death…at the time, reading that made me feel less alone, and sometimes that’s all you need.
We read it in school, but we had previously read Where the Red Fern Grows and Old Yeller, so the school system had at least introduced the concept of tragedy in literature to us before this happened.
I loved this book, and the movie is highly recommended. It is a great adaptation, and the young actors were fantastic.
I didn’t feel betrayed at all as a kid, but I have never given much thought to titles. As an adult, the title makes perfect sense to me. It works on multiple levels. Also, I had never read a fantasy novel when I read that, so I didn’t know that kids going from our world to a world like Narnia happened in books.
I haven’t read this to my kids yet, and I probably won’t. We did watch the movie a few months ago. It was too much for my 4 year old, and I regret it. My 7 year old was moved in the proper way, and it allowed us to have a great discussion time afterwards. But she had already dealt with the death of a babysitter when she was 4, so she was better prepared for Leslie’s death emotionally than my 4 year old was.
I’d like to add that during that discussion, Aria, my 7 year old, immediately drew the conclusion that Leslie’s death would allow Jess to bond with his little sister in a real special way, by sharing Teribithia with her, and that this would help the littler sister avoid feeling isolated like Jess had. I can’t express how proud I was of her for finding that gem on her own.
OMG, I’m getting teary just remembering how much this book made me cry when I was a kid (and that was a looong time ago, y’all). First book to ever make me do the full on TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY FACE at fictional characters. It hit so hard and perfectly at that moment in my life, that I just kind of never got over it. I can still clearly recall being on my bed, the book under my pillow, choking back sobs because I didn’t want my parents to hear I was crying over a book. I completely felt that someone I knew personally had died, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
And I don’t know, but maybe it helped me later deal with real-world grief, because I’d already felt that moment, at one step remove. Even though it was pretty shattering, I’m glad I read it. It certainly was a showcase for the power of words on my schoolage fledgling writer self.
Now I gotta go find some lolcats.
Wow, though – you actually believed that Terebithia would open, and it would all go away?? That makes me a little teary even now.
I still have my copy of this book.
I don’t know why – I read it ONCE, and it’s just not something my poor heart can take reading again…
I never read the book, but I saw the movie.
I actually didn’t know much about the story and I assumed it was a fairly standard fantasy for kids film. Unfortunately, the scene of Leslie’s death hit me without any expectations. My best friend had died about six months prior to the movie’s release. I was grieving, dealing with guilt, and very angry.
I cried like a little girl with a skinned knee. I barely cried from my friend’s death and all the pain I had been holding in came flooding out.
Great movie, brilliantly done. I won’t be seeing it again.
I sat in a theatre full of parents with children to see the movie based on this book (I had not read the book before the movie – yes you can berate me), I have NEVER heard the theatre so quite for a ‘kids’ movie then or ever since in the moment when Jess is told that Leslie died. I think there were going to be some hard conversations in the car ride home after that….but maybe that is a good thing. Although I agree that the movie also misled people to believe it was going to be a Narnia-like fantasy movie for kids….bet you some parents were more than a bit surprised at the deep subject matter.
“Are we all ready to start sobbing now? Like, hard?”
Oh man. So very this. Even just reading the title of this post made me choke up a little. Haven’t read this book since… middle school? And it still has this effect on me. Crazy.
I watched the film on a plane knowing nothing about it. I agree that I felt cheated – I so wanted Terebithia to be real and the kids to get there. I also cried my eyes out in public sat next to some very nice people who did the British thing of ignoring my distress. For several hours. It was a flight to NZ and I was set next to them for about 24 hours in all…
The Movie Trailers were really False Advertising. They gave the impresson Terabithia was a ‘real’ place. If you had gone to the theater not having read the book you’d be very tramatized.
@helbel, I saw the movie for the first time on a plane too! I was on a flight from Atlanta to Paris, and I balled like a baby. The French couple sitting next to me gave me a couple of concerned glances but otherwise ignored me. They weren’t watching the movie so who knows what they thought was wrong with me.
I’m in the same boat as many of the other commenters. I’ve never read the book only seen the movie trailers. Thankfully I’d only borrowed the film from LoveFilm as it was a huge dissapointment.
I can go outside and play make believe myself. I don’t need to sit through a film/book that hints at visiting a new world but never does.
Nate
The Worldbuilding School
@16 Dude, are you for real? I’m a bit surprised I felt miffed reading your comment.
Grrr, I didn’t want to talk about this book.
I feel sad, angry, and betrayed just thinking about Bridge to Terabithia even twenty some odd years after reading having read it for the first time and don’t ask me to sit down and watch the movie again.
This story elicits allot of strong reactions from most people who’ve read it, I assmume that those that don’t react may be missing their soul by one means or another.
To most of us that got hit with it at an early age it was a fairly traumatic life lesson that stuck with us and helped us deal with real life tragedies far better than we otherwise would have been able to, at least I feel that way about my own coping skills.
While Terabithia is an intergral part of the story its merely a plot device that two children use to help them deal with their social problems, whether it’s not fitting in, not being able to make friends, being bullied, et al…
Terabithia however is not the point of the story.
The point of the story is that life isn’t fair, life is hard, friendship can be a struggle, and somethings horrible, traumatic, and terrible things happen for no good reason and it isn’t anyone’s fault.
And yet despite all of that life can be fun and filled with wonder and beauty.
I guess I can see some sense of disappointment if you were expecting Terabithia to be the center of the story, but I just don’t see that out weighing the emotional journey this story can elicit in whichever form you digest it in.
That being said, I really think skipping it just because Terabithia is an imaginary place that is never fully realized, whether you’re looking at the book or the movie, is a silly reason to avoid it.
I remember reading this book the first time and thinking that the author had made a mistake and waiting for Leslie to pop back into the story somehow. It was an awful thing to face as a child. You’ve come to love and care for a character and then she’s ripped from the story, and off screen for that matter.
I don’t think I talked to anyone in school for a week after I finished the book, it was too much for me to deal with.
I was forced, and I use that term in all seriousness, to reread the book in middle school and only then did grasp the ending. It still hurt like hell to read, I’m not sure there’s a more painful book in existence, but I was able to see despite all of the hurt that life went on and you could make life a beautiful and special thing.
As for banning the book, it’s been a while since I’ve read it, but I don’t recall any direct condemnation of any religion, I recall Leslie and her family not being religious but it was used more to play up the differences between the two families rather than being a commentary on organized religion.
Witchcraft? I think even fundamentalists would have to take a pretty broad view on the topic to justify that being a reason for banning the book. It’s pretty clear from the get go that any and all things Terabithia are make believe.
Honestly if there’s a reason that parents wanted this book banned it would be to save their children the traumatic impact this book is capable of having on said child.
That being said, despite the trauma I think I was better off for having read and faced what this book hits you with. It’s a hard lesson to learn but you have to face it eventually and I’d rather my children, if I ever have any, face it via literature than having life do it for me and trying to pick up the pieces afterwards.
I read the book in 1st or 2nd grade. (I read most books right after my older brother so I often read books that were too “grown-up” for me.) It was one of my favorite books then and continues to be. I really don’t know why I loved the book so much except that I too loved to run, often felt like an outsider, and had never felt anything so deeply as I did when Leslie died.
Just reading this makes me teary all over again. I read this around age 8 or 9. And yes, we’d already faced Where the Red Fern Grows and Old Yeller and a couple other things in that vein. I read Bridge to Teribithia not in class but for a book report on my own. And I had already been exposed to Narnia and Redwall and other such things. So I think it may be true that the fact that Teribithia remained imaginary was part of the sense of betrayal in the book. But Leslie’s death… This is the only book before or since I’ve actually thrown across a room in anger. I didn’t actually read the last pages for another…nearly 20 years? I finally read the last chapter standing in a bookstore in grad school and I wept right there in the store, all over again. Whatever else you may say about it, this book is powerfully written.
First, as James Nicoll often says, a prophylactic. When this sort of thing is required reading, suggest starting at the end and reading backwards, one page or page spread at a time. This way you get the Foreshadowings and other things you’ll need to repeat to the teacher who assigned it (boo!), all nice and analytic and bloodless.
Oh, and read a couple of negative reviews first, and look it up in TVtropes.
Hm, maybe we need a bingo card for these Death by Newberry books.
Next, where’s a good crossover fan fic? At the end of The Last Battle this strange girl turns up in New Narnia, recruiting for an expedition to New Terebithia to establish a Gate there….
It’s a very powerful book. As a kid, I liked the respect the author had for me, thinking I could handle it. I couldn’t articulate that at the time, but I knew the book was real in ways that books that pamper their readers aren’t. I still hate when books miraculously restore the characters that died or sacrificed themselves along the way.
I can see not choosing this book for a class read, because it’s really really strong, which does not always translate into good for testing and review. But I’m baffled by anyone wanting to ban it.
PS. Beth in Little Woman doesn’t not die until she’s really old, like eighteen or something.
@21: “Nineteen’s too young!”
Which, when I first read it at seven, didn’t really parse for me.
I think that it took a lot of courage on the author’s part to publish something that was so powerfully against what was thought of children’s literature. But because of this controversy, the book had a much stronger impact on it’s audience.
I’m another who never read the book as a child — I don’t think I’d even *heard* of it. I saw the movie on TV a few years ago, just because it was on. It looked like it might be interesting and I was bored.
I was *utterly* unprepared for what was coming, and yes, I wept deeply and unapologetically.
From my experience of knowing particular Southern fundamentalists and their opinions on books of various sorts, I have to say that while I’m sympathetic to the author’s hope that there’s something deeper than the stated reasons for banning BtT, I disagree.
Leslie is atheist, and it’s fairly important to her characterization. The fact that she dies is irrelevant — it’s true that a fundamentalist wants an atheist punished for their stance, and by preference convert, or at least end the book in the depths of the bad consequences of their beliefs. But a story about an atheist character satisfactory to a fundamentalist would not only have the atheist either convert or be punished. More importantly, the atheist, as long as they remain atheist, must be characterized as a bad person. You can’t be a good atheist. An atheist becomes good by converting. Imogene Herdman is having the classic altar-call experience at the end of Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Leslie is a basically decent person, and an atheist, therefore the book is saying that it is possible to be both decent and atheist. I’m sure this is the theme that the banners find objectionable.
I had to read the book for some book report thingy too!
Anyway, I didnt really get all teary and all when i read it, and im a really emotional person. You should read Kira-Kira by Cynthia Kadohata. It’s a wonderful book but it will DEFINITELY make you cry because its so emotional and stuff but I really liked it because it explained the meaning of death so well and I was moved. As I was saying, Bridge to Terabithia is a great book, btw I dont see why they should ban the book the religious part and all wasn’t that bad, and I was totally not expecting the ending but there were some hints like when they said ” His stomach felt suddenly cold. It had something to do with the buffalo, with falling, with death. With the reason he had not remembered to ask if Leslie could go with them to Washington today. You know something weird?What? Leslie asked. I was scared to come to Terabithia this morning.The coldness threatened to spread up from his stomach” though didn’t really get that part can someone explain? But it was really pitiful the fact that even after Leslie died, Jesse still wanted to believe that she hadn’t and that things would go back to normal and he would see her again at Terabithia and that he was just dreaming. I felt sooo sorry for him! Wonderfully moving book though! Definetely recommend it!
I have seen the movie three times and still tear up at Leslie’s death. I still don’t understand why she has to die to give meaning to the movie. This shouldn’t be a banned book or movie. I’m 47 and the story touched me. It was well thought and executed. But to some it may be overwhelming and they may see it in a different light. Some could take it in negative context. Personally it’s a superb movie.
i watched this movie – never read the book but i loved the movie! i cried like a baby – my friends thought i had gone mental but it honestly was perfect. i love a movie that makes me cry, think and this really hit it for me. i cant believe there are that many people saying bad things about it – i loved it! powerful and realistic – incredible. ive watched it several times since and it never fails to make me cry. i love it.
also – just further – i dont agree that leslie is an aetheist. maybe its different in the book but one of the sweetest scenes in the movie is when shes heading back from church with jesse and she says “you have to believe in this and you hate it but i dont and i think its beautiful”. so – no. i dont think shes an aetheist. so yeah. she didnt go to hell. :)
I thought this was weird at the time. Ok, maybe a few years later, but it was always the thing that bothered me most about the book.
Best movie ever
After being devastated by Old Yeller I made it a firm rule not to read books where an animal dies and extended it to include human best friends. I had my own traumas thank you very much.
I only saw the movie, but I felt that this story challenged the traditional idea of Christianity. Leslie was able to overcome the creatures with the light that she caught in church. I think this speaks of the power of Christianity and the Holy Spirit. She did take vengeance on the bully, but later realized that there was a reason for her acting out and became friends with her. Sometimes I think that Christianity is too tightly confined to a box. God gave us the ability to imagine and we are to use our imaginations for what’s lovely, true, and of a good report. I think if we took more time to play with our children, rather than formally teach them, we could make a lot more progress with them. We could literally transform them from the inside out rather than the outside in. We could redirect their tendency toward violence and direct them to a more peaceful way to use their imaginations. Of course that would mean that we ourselves would have to become like a child again and relearn how to use our own imaginations. In our society we think that we don’t have time for play, but the truth is, that we don’t have time not to play. We have all been spoon-fed and baby-sat through our education system. We need the redemption of our imaginations! May we be quickened in this according to the Lord’s loving-kindness in Jesus’ name.
Thank you so much for this amazing review! it was very moving and it helped me see some things I hadn’t noticed in the book. I love the end of your review and I hope to read another one sometime!
Thanks!
when I first saw the movie I was so angry with Katherine Peterson. how can she so cruel so I mailed her to change the story or make Leslie alive or do anything but just make her back in Jesse’s life, but like all the others she didn’t reverts.
Its the most heartfelt moment of my life when Leslie dies, I thought cant we change the ending. from the age of fourteen till now whenever I saw this movie, I feel the same thing. It is a very good movie and the book I think the US government should rethink about it let it reach every child so that he can learn the actuality of life is.
Good book, but the movie was sub-par.
I also read these comment,I know the story by the movie,this is terrible and crucious.but why I don’t know I hate the news about banned,I think by this banned,the terabithia part 2 is stucked.
I’m doing a book report on it ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
We read this in class back in 5th grade, so either in 1989 or 90. My generation was jaded, and the school I attended in New Hampshire had a reputation for being lowbrow…by 3rd grade middle fingers and general raunch were extremely commonplace on the playground.
I remember when one of my classmates sa8d “I heard that Leslie girl dies at the end of the book we’re reading”. Our teacher knew the ending had been leaked to us, so she used it as an opportunity to teach us foreshadowing.
Remember when I said we were jaded? Well, nobody really reacted to the ending. If they did, they kept it inside…I know I did. I didn’t cry (maybe I should have) but the truth is it haunted me for years.
Fast forward to July 2007 after the DVD release. I was 28 and watched it with my friend’s daughter. Keep in mind that just a couple years before I was known as the tattooed, beer swilling redneck who was obsessed with guns and David Allen Coe. Well, that night I watched the movie with dread until Jess got home…at which point I began weeping uncontrollably.
Needless to say, a 200 pound tattooed redneck is a great target for mockery in a situation like this. I woke up on the couch and my buddy’s girlfriend says “I heard you were crying last night”. I tried denying it but she informed me that the daughter told her. I admitted that I had.
I sat down for breakfast. My buddy comes up. “Hey man!” I said. He replies immediately “Hey, I heard you were crying last night”.
Finally his 11 year old son shows up to the table. I was already stuffing my face when he sat down. He smirks at me and says “So I heard you were crying last night”.
So yes, a blabbermouth kid humiliated me, but you know what? After 18 years of trying to shrug off something that bothered me, I was able to accept as a grown man that my emotions are valid and nothing to be ashamed of, even if it was a fictional character.
So yeah, I too contracted Terabithia Trauma as a kid…I was just too stubborn to get it treated.