The Istoriaphile’s Corner

There’s a shiver I get when I first pick up certain books.  Reading is almost an autonomic function for me and nothing is more inviting than the site of a new, fat book but every so often I will pick up a book, read a few pages and get the “Aha” kind of shiver.   It’s a reflex of recognition, when my eyes fix on some indefinable thing that says this book is really something special.  This is one of those books that seems to walk and talk under its own power and will become a beloved friend.  This book will transcend its time and be loved by people for centuries.  This one is a classic.  Other people have already awarded that title to The Bridge to Terabithia but I didn’t know that until I picked up the book.   The shiver told me everything. For one thing, it’s so universal.  Every kid that ever went to school has lived in one of two camps.  Either you have been the new kid in class, like Leslie Burke or you are Jess Aarons, who has never been the new kid.  Either status has its own brand of hell.  The new kid is supposed…