August 9, 2007

Claudia's room

I wish I could say that I read well as a child. That I not only precociously toted Shakespeare around, but actually read him. That I delighted in the classics: Tom Sawyer, Treasure Island, 20000 Leagues Under the Sea. I definitely regret throwing a tantrum the year when I received Swallows and Amazons for my birthday, instead of The Truth About Stacey. I did manage some good contemporary fiction: Jean Little, Judy Blume, Norma Klein, Berniece Thurman Hunter, Betty Miles, Marilyn Sachs. And of course there was LM Montgomery, and I covetted anything at all with her name attached. But in general, my taste in books was crap. If I have children I will have to work very hard to remember that bad reading is not necessarily a lifelong affliction. Archie comics were once my heart’s desire, and now I have an MA in English lit, so anyone can turn around. If I could get over The Babysitters Club, there is hope for us all. And just to show how far I’ve come, I give you this blog, in which a young librarian revisits the BSC novels she devoured in her youth. Her reviews are terribly funny, the books are atrocious, and the blog is addictive.

Thanks to Leah for the link.

Update: In related news, everything we ever learned from Judy Blume is profiled here.