Back in October, I was in the throes of Halloween so I didn’t get around to answering this question from The Classics Club:
Discuss the classics you read as a child.
Who introduced you to them?
Which ones were you favourites?
Do you still reread them as an adult? Why? Why Not?
But what is time anyway? So, here’s a Classics Meme “catch-up” post.
On the weird side, I remember reading Edgar Allan Poe stories and Sherlock Holmes stories as a kid. For K-6th grade, I attended a small Lutheran school but within its library were some abridged, illustrated editions of classic horror tales, including Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death” and “The Pit and the Pendulum.” I probably checked them out a dozen times each. I binged Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories one summer before junior high while enamored with Jeremy Brett’s portrayal on TV. Of course I still read Poe and Doyle. Their themes and language are a literary gift that keeps on giving.
On the less weird side, as many girls do, I went through a horse phase. I read a few of Marguerite Henry’s books (King of the Wind being my favorite) and many of Walter Farley’s Black Stallion series. These, I haven’t had any want to reread, even though my Mom recently returned the Black Stallion books I’d left with her when I moved away. Young protagonists have always been hard to sell to me; it hasn’t gotten any easier now that I’m in my 40s…
I probably would have enjoyed Roald Dahl or Lloyd Alexander, but I seemingly never crossed paths with them as a kid. Perhaps if I could go back in time I’d slip a book into young Katherine’s stack and say, “I got two words for you, kid: oracular pig.”