“The answer is in thy heart. Thee can always hear it if thee listens.”

I’m in the middle of reading a well-written but lengthy and depressing classic (more about that in a subsequent review), and after 200 pages, I needed a break. I randomly picked a book from my “children’s books bookcase,” hoping it would be something light and fun. And what I got was a piece of magic.

Not only did this slim novel deliver the light, fun part, it contained the wisdom and emotion of an enduring masterpiece and communicated it with the effortlessness of a child. Needless to say, this will be a book I will continue to read all my life.

The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare was, at age seven, my first introduction to this wonderful author. In this book, she tells the story of Kit Tyler, a wealthy, free-spirited girl forced by the death of her grandfather to leave her Barbados home and travel to Puritanical New England, where her stern authoritarian uncle and timid aunt offer her a home. When the strangeness and oppressiveness of her new situation drive Kit to run to the meadows, she meets a mysterious but wonderfully kind old Quaker woman mistakenly labeled a witch who proves to be the balm and lifeline Kit’s heart is looking for. Facing the difficulties of an unwelcome lover, an abused, love-starved child, two cousins in love with the same man, and the uncertanties of her own heart, Kit is helped through her circumstances by Hannah Tupper, but soon there will come a time where Kit must be the one to help, and more than her own life will be on the line…

This Newberry Award winner is a beautiful example of how a children’s book can magnificently span the distance between a child just discovering how wonderful reading can be, and a “grownup” who has been in on the secret for decades. My mom, who shares the blame of my addiction to books, first started reading this one aloud to me when I had been reading for several years, and she was astonished when I took off with it on my own. I finished it in less than a week.

I’m scared that my references to “children’s book” will instantly prejudice you. Leave behind all connotations that phrase conjures up. This is a 250-page chapter book, no easy task when you’re seven years old. And the writing is comparable to a 6th-grade level. So instead of branding it as a dumbed-down kid’s book that is a chore to read as an adult, imagine storytelling pure and simple. Think back to a book you loved as a child and still love today, one you share with your own kids. This will be one of them.

What makes this book so special is the intimacy with which you come to know and empathize with Kit. Her day-to-day struggles with the hardships of her new life – the never-ending chores, the long dry sermons at Meeting, the grimness of her uncle – are felt keenly by the reader, not in a tedious, complaining way, but in the sense that she is feeling exactly what you would be feeling in her situation. This kinship with the reader makes each of her triumphs and mishaps important, as she conquers a little girl’s fear and teaches her both how to read and to love; or as she slowly adapts to her surroundings and finds parts of her new world that she can accept and enjoy. You rejoice with her when she takes comfort in her gentle cousin Mercy and stands up to her vain other cousin Judith. And you cheer her on in sorting through a well-to-do young man’s courtship and her precarious friendship with Nat, the captain’s son on the ship in which she traveled to Conneticut.

History can’t help but be woven in throughout this book. One of the main themes of the story is Kit’s uncle Matthew’s political stance against England’s tyranny, creating a lot of tension in the town with an English governor and a Royalist minister. And at the end…well, I don’t want to give anything away, but you can be sure that you’ll know a LOT about the infamous witch trials of those days by the time you’ve finished this book.


Plot

The story line is one that draws you into the footsteps and heart of Kit from beginning to end. The opening I thought was extremely appealing, as Kit catches her first glimpse of America (dull and gray) and hides her disappointment in a conversation with Nat. While the story progresses, we learn more and more about why Kit is coming here and what she expects – and then her prospects take a complete turnaround as reality hits her. The rest of the story is just as engaging, perfecting the blend of drama and intensely personal scenes and descriptions.

The thing that amazed me was how many different story lines were added with each event in the book. Each new development increased the tension and consequences of the outcome, yet somehow the story never got confusing or overwhelming. The author knew just when to intensify and pull back. She keeps the plot moving, filling in the main events of the story with interesting incidents and details of Kit’s life.

No episodic, sporadic storytelling for Speare – everything that occurred in the book flowed in an instinctive, spontaneous, but purposeful way. The one quibble I have with the story is the way the relationship between Kit and Nat developed; its resolution came too suddenly and abruptly. The reader doesn’t expect such a hasty conclusion, and it’s a slightly jarring way to close the book. But then Speare’s romantic sensibilities have never been very acute – romanticists like myself will find the love aspects of her novels a bit understated or fuzzy, as if she was too embarrassed to make it a prominent part of her story. Nevertheless, she manages to create a charming tale with inconspicuous and gentle touches of romance.


Characters

From the moment I met Kit, she flocked to my list of immortal heroes and heroines. (Joining ranks with Taran, Frodo, Aslan, Jane, Elizabeth, ad infinitum.) An unconventional and rather little-known heroine, yes, but Kit’s whole-hearted enthusiasm and firmness of will send her right into the ranks of those characters you can’t help but root for. Bewildered and a bit pampered when the book opens, she metamorphasizes into a beautiful, compassionate, and indomitably strong personality; and it’s interesting to note that the exhausting work and the various trials she faces are what makes her strong. Her face is referred to as plain and thin; however, from the vibrant descriptive words used in connextion with her (“She sparkled” or “A smile illuminated her face”), you get the feeling that she is far from plain. What’s more, she has that attractive inner quality of valor and spirit, baffling but appealing to those who know her. This gal’s a winner!

Her relatives and acquaintances are no less ingenious characters for being overshadowed by a remarkable heroine. Mercy and Judith, her cousins, form delightful foils for each other, and Mercy’s gentle, warm heart in the face of her lameness and inability for many household tasks is an endearing characteristic, as is her artless and totally sincere love for Kit. And when John Holbrook, a young man training for the ministry who traveled on the same ship as Kit, starts calling at the house, you can’t help but hope that Mercy receives her reward for all her kindness. (Although it seems for a while that the snooty Judith will get it instead.)

Similarly, Uncle Matthew and Aunt Rachel are a couple with entirely different natures, Matthew’s austereness and grim rules contrasted with Rachel’s goodhearted but somewhat uneasy charity. And when I really looked for it, I found another pair of opposites in William, Kit’s suitor, seemingly shy and reserved but actually strong-minded and rather biased; and Nat, the roguish tease who underneath his mocking exterior has a heart of gold. These two characters are developed marvelously from the first moment they appear on the scene, and they evoke very definite feelings with the reader!

And I’ve saved the best for last – the mesmerizing Hannah Tupper, the McGuffy of the book. With a gentle Quaker dialect and a humble appearance, her appeal lies in the unassuming way that she reaches out in love to those around her. She opens up a world of discovery for Kit and gives new hope to Prudence Cruff, a little girl whose parents abuse and ignore her. What a character! The deft expansion of Hannah seems to be the climax of Speare’s gifted characterization skills.


Writing style

This is always the aspect of The Witch of Blackbird Pond that mystifies me. How can an author write so undemandingly and yet so beautifully? And yet so advanced?! If I could write like that, I wouldn’t be here at Epinions – I’d be selling a book! But I guess my point is that I picked this book up as a no-think escape from very heavy literary brainwork, and what I got was a wonderfully appealing and unforced story told in an easy, natural way that still made me think.

Speare’s writing style is gentle, flowing, rather direct, but bewitching. She chooses the plainest way to put things, but doesn’t dumb her writing down at all. Simple and graceful, her narrative has a slight twist of complexity that makes it stimulating enough for advanced readers yet not impossibly hard for beginners. The explanations and conversations ring genuine and true, a bit old-fashioned in flavor but also with a great deal of moderness; far better than a horrible fake “Olde Englishe dialect.” Most of all, her words take on a vivid, sincere tone, almost an extension of Kit herself. (By the way, have you ever noticed that most books take on the essence of their main character? If the protagonist is dull, or funny or brave, the entire book usually is too. Nowhere is this more clear than here.)

The back of the book says that the reading level is 6.1, for ages 12 and up. But if your younger child is ready for it, why deny them the pleasure of reading this story? (I know not all kids will be able to tackle it at seven, so don’t raise too high expectations!) You and your child might both be pleasantly surprised by the book, you because the writing is thought-provoking (as opposed to other obtrusively simple young adult novels), and your child because they can read and understand a “big kids book.” And you’ll both have a lot of fun experiencing The Witch of Blackbird Pond together.


Message

Several different themes comprise the body of this book’s main thrust. Perhaps the most obvious is the one of listening to your heart and to the principles you believe in for the answer to life’s problems. This of course is what Hannah introduces

The Witch of Blackbird Pond captures the flavor of the pre-Revolutionary Puritans and their tenacious, steadfast hold on their land, their beliefs, and their laws. What’s more, it shows this through the eyes of a girl who is a complete alien to the society; someone who has grown up on a tropical island, free from care, work, troubles, or dreariness. She sees their lives as drudgery and morality, never laughing, never taking time for the small, spontaneous kindness that’s the best kind of kindness. By the end of the book, she has realized the essence of what they hold to be true – basic human freedom, the thought that each man and woman must be able to hold on to their own homes and beliefs; and even though the stuffiness and never-ceasing labors of Wethersfield aren’t for her, she has the freedom to both respect their bravery and perserverence and to choose her own life. At the climax of the story, Kit comes to realize that Uncle Matthew’s fight for freedom, and Gershom Bulkey’s and John Holbrook’s, isn’t an “either/or” of rebelling against or obeying the King. Rather, it’s about the right to govern one’s own life under God and a chosen ruler, not under the dictates of a tyrant.

Perhaps there’s even a message about not jumping to conclusions from first impressions; however, this thought is presented so subtly and discreetly that one can hardly identify it, so the potential preachiness and patness is nipped in the bud. Nat, teasing and unsympathetic from the first, proves to be an example of this message when his deeper feelings and contemplations are revealed. Hannah also is a case of a book with a questionable cover, as a very old witchy-looking woman with a branded forehead, but whose beautiful compassion and welcoming sympathy quickly overcome her appearance.

Lastly, there’s the theme of human prejudice and hatred contrasted with love and thoughtfulness. The witch-happy townspeople led by Goodwife Cruff represent the unjust bigotry of something they don’t understand and don’t want to know the truth about. I thought it was a unique twist that Matthew seemed to share this view, judging from his harsh narrow-mindedness, but it was he toward the end that supported Kit in her time of trial. And William, who seemed so tolerant and unprovokable, criticizes Kit for her “unsuitable” choice of friends, showing his insufferable biasedness. (This of course leading Kit to realize the true object of her love.) Hannah, Prudence, and Mercy stand at the opposite side of the scale; they embody unconditional love and acceptance, and their simple offering of friendship and affection provides a heartwarming contrast to the horrible witch trials.


Final thoughts

Please, you are NOT too old to buy this book at your favorite bookstore. If you have kids, it would be a sin not to introduce them to Kit. If you don’t have kids and have never read this book, it would be a sin not to introduce yourself. Why not treat yourself to a book that will bring you immense satisfaction and delight? Pick up a copy and enjoy!


As usual I love all comments and would especially like to hear from anyone who has read this book and agrees (or disagrees) with what I had to say here. Am I a minority?