Not Crossing That Bridge
I was reading a few newspapers today with reviews of the new Bridge to Terebithia movie. The reviews appear to be overwhelmingly positive, but there is no way you are getting me within ten feet of that movie even if you’re armed with a cattle prod and an offer of free cheesesteaks for life.
Spoiler Warning
I still remember reading the book, I believe in the summer between fourth and fifth grade; I’m not sure if any teacher had specifically recommended it, or I’d just heard about it, but I went through it at a pretty good clip. Kids create their own imaginary kingdom, what’s not to like? My summer camp took a day trip to Sesame Place, the theme park/water park in the Philadelphia suburbs, and I figured after I got home I’d finish the thing off. So I’m happily moving through the charming adventures and then all of a sudden
WHAM!
Everything goes horribly wrong. I remember continung to read, all of a sudden needing to get to the end, because there was no way the book was possibly going to actually turn out to be such a bummer, right? I was just stunned – the reading became a strangely joyless experience. I think it may well have been the first time I read a book where the good guys don’t get a happy ending; the closest thing to a downer I can remember is Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, and even there the kid gets a new dog at the end of it to make him feel better.
(Side note: speaking of Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Judy Blume is responsible for my other childhood book not-what-I-was-expecting story. When I was around 10, my mother picked up some Blume books at a garage sale, without checking which books she was buying. She knew my teachers had read Fourth Grade Nothing and Superfudge, so she figured Blume was a safe choice. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I ended up reading Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.)
I was in quite a funk the rest of that day. So while it’s a fine book and I hope the movie is quite successful, there ain’t no way I’m gonna go poke harder at that memory and bring that back up. Some lessons I don’t feel the need to learn a second time.
About Dave Thomer
Born and raised in Philadelphia. Studied philosophy at Fordham University in the Bronx, where I made many great friends and met my wonderful wife. We moved back to Philadelphia, where I studied philosophy some more and became a teacher. Online and off, I'm looking for ways that we can be better citizens and build stronger communities.