I found this in a library... school, probably, one afternoon. A Friday. Sat on the floor and devoured it... set it back in place... it was the night before a girls-scout camp trip (during one of the brief spans I was permitted the group), which should have been amazing but for the douse of poison in it. I fell in love with the book. Pondered it half the night instead of sleeping. Sleeping bags, with a nightmare close by- the next night was bunk beds. I slept that night.
I came looking for it, so many years later. It's one of the few kid's books that actually holds appeal after time. The pictures are like stained glass windows, classic style, absolutely beautiful.
Sadness Sadness, heartfelt pain
If all the love has been in vain
If you ever speak a lie
Then, my friend, I will die.
Haunting then. No less so now.
I don't plan on ever taking Freud on this one. Some dreams are best left unexplained.
It's funny. Point of view shifts on so many things with time and perspective. Not this. I pick this up and I'm still that lost kid addicted to libraries dreading a mixed blessing of a trip. Every time I cross it on my bookshelf, I'm a little surprised. I shouldn't have waited as many years to track it down.
It was my first favorite book. Before Nietzsche, before Aristophones or Freud or Dostoyevsky.
And it's odd to say, but this holds up to any of them.