
Can I make a confession? I am not a fan of the movie version of James and the Giant Peach.
And that’s not because I’m comparing it to the book. I simply remember disliking the movie when I’d seen it as a child. It was creepy, and there was a scary rhino.
Having said that, this was one of the books that my wife told me I had to read, and I couldn’t remember ever reading it.
Let me tell you, Roald Dahl is not afraid of brutally killing off characters. And he does it so nonchalantly that I imagine children don’t even notice. But, as an adult, I was left thinking, “Wait, what?”
The only two books I’ve read by Roald Dahl are The BFG and James and the Giant Peach. Out of those two, I can only see myself reading The BFG to my children.
If they want to read James and the Giant Peach themselves, that’s fine with me. It’s not a bad book, and I’m sure it would be entertaining for them.
But I wouldn’t have as much fun reading it aloud to them.
Also, the ending felt pretty sudden. You’re reading about James on this crazy adventure, and then it just ends.
Once again, I understand this book wasn’t written for my demographic. I’m almost 30 years old. I probably should have read this more than 20 years ago.
But I didn’t, and I guess I’m paying the price for it now by taking things too seriously.
This is true for so many books! Especially, weirdly, British authors from the 50s-60s. Oh your family all died? Oh well. The thing I enjoy about this and other Roald Dahl books is the great inventive storylines.
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