I’m not sure why it’s taken me so long to read books that most people read when they’re children. It wasn’t like I grew up without books. We went to the library regularly, and I would leave every time with stacks of books.
I think I may have just become obsessed with The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. While other children were reading a variety of books, I was focused solely on reading about Frank & Joe Hardy and Nancy Drew.
Now I’m catching up on the other books I missed out on, and I’m finding that I shouldn’t have waited this long.
In some cases I feel I should have read them sooner because they’re such good books. I finish reading them, and I’m left thinking, “Why didn’t I do this earlier?”
However, in other cases I feel I shouldn’t have put off reading them because I missed the best time of my life to fully enjoy the way the book is written.
Peter Pan made me feel like that.
I knew when I started that it was a classic, and I approached the book as somebody who had enjoyed various movie adaptations. But I didn’t enjoy reading the book.
The book is called Peter Pan, but I didn’t feel that the story revolved around him as much as it revolved around the children’s adventures in Neverland. I mean, Alice’s Adventure’s in Wonderland wasn’t just called “Alice”.
Anyway, not important…
I understand the book would be pretty entertaining for children. It reads very much like children making up a story as they’re playing in the back yard, and isn’t that the point?
So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think I’d be welcome in Neverland. I’ve grown up, and, in doing so, I’ve lost the ability to fly.
I should have gone to Neverland when I had the chance.
I blame Nancy Drew.