This one was fast fun and a different flavour on the usual tropes of it's genre. Big on representation, feminism, and an interesting peek into a rich and varied culture and myth set that I confess I know nothing about.

The kids feel a bit older than they are (might be a cultural thing), and this thing of putting the end of the world responsibilities onto the children's shoulders is one that constantly sticks in my craw now that I'm older, but I happen to know it was the bomb when I was a kid (Harry Potter, I'm looking at you) so the one star demoted might be an "unintended audience" thing.

Wondering what else I can get my hands on from the area, which this book's popularity might make easier, so kudos too for broadening horizons and opening markets.

Two things about this cute classic:

It makes you incredibly hungry almost every chapter. Which is fitting for a people struggling daily to get, prepare and store enough of it according to the season.

Building from the point above, beyond the morality bits, it is quite the how-to manual on survival without tech. If the apocalypse comes, THIS ONE is the book you want.

No, wait, three: The illustrations are lovely.

They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.

The title for the grouping of these Balsac's novels is proper indeed. There was this mix of drama and farce, character study and social critique that entertained as it pained me.

I quite liked the style, and found it easy to read. I shall be attempting Pere Goriot soon, and might add Scenes from a Courtesan's Life to my tbr pile (yeah, it never shrinks *grin*)

*pleased sigh* So gorgeous.

Dandelion Wine is a beautiful, whimsical love letter to those memories of summer that are so vivid, so powerful, we can feel the baking sun, the weight and smell of the air, the joy and lassitude when we recall them.

It goes from one episode to the next fluidly and with little warning, connecting and weaving them. Add in Bradbury's style and the result is a bit like dreams, a bit like memories, introspective, nostalgic and at points philosophical.

There were episodes to pull every shade of emotion, and I loved so many of them I'd have serious trouble picking a favorite. Grandma's cooking made me so hungry and also miss my grandfather very much. Colonel's Freeleigh's bits and John's departure made me tear a bit. I laughed out loud with the witch debacle. Lavinia's had me switch between cheering on and wanting to thump her, and scared me quite a bit. And the lime-vanilla ice-cream one! So many tangled feels!

It was an excellent read to savor, and one I'll revisit.

Defiantly funny in the face of total devastation, but more than that, ever hopeful. I guess that last is the best part of strong faith. The important part. Inner piece and enduring hope.

Here's the deal: I'm an agnostic. We get roasted inside *grin*. I could go a long while about the difference between religion and spirituality, between faith in god and the faith in the future that makes you stubbornly plod forward. I wont. My mom says "there are no atheist in the trenches". I have no idea what an ordeal like this would do to me.

But here is the other side, the thing about being an agnostic: I can accept both stories. I can love and believe in the tiger, and I can forgive the killer boy. The tiger is the better story, but to me, disregarding the second feels like hiding from a horrible truth too hard to accept. Just as disregarding the tiger feels like the cruelty of denying absolution, or the company of hope.

Good book. The movie did it amazing justice, tight and beautiful and with lovely, memorable music, so I highly recommend it.