Welcome to another edition of our new semi-regular series: Blast from the Past.
A refresher: We will occasionally read (or listen) to a book we had loved as children but have not re-visited as adult writers. And then we’ll tell you about it.
How did the story hold up? Is the magic still there? What differences do we notice, both cultural and in storytelling techniques and how we respond as adult writers? Would our childhood faves appeal to kids today?
This week, I’m revisiting another book that I read over and over obsessively at a teen: Madeleine L’Engle’s The Moon By Night.
The Moon By Night is the second in the five-book series about Vicky Austin and the Austin family. In this book, the family of six takes a road trip from their home in Connecticut across the country and back. The Austins are going through some big changes: Maggy, a child who has been living with the Austins since her parents died, has gone to live in California with her guardians, Mr. Austin has taken a job in New York, which means the family is moving there after their road trip, and Vicky is fourteen, navigating the transition from child to adult.
Culture Shock
Even Teen Me recognized that this book was a little old-fashioned. Written in the sixties and read by me in the eighties, the slang and references were already dated, and the behavior of the family seemed a little dorky…or as they might say, square.
But my family had taken a similar cross-country road trip when I was twelve, and the tales of camp ground friends, majestic sights, wildlife encounters, and visits with far-flung family and friends resonated with Teen Me.
As an adult, I can also see that the calm, even-tempered, capable parents were comforting to me, and the exploration of a country on the brink of massive changes told through the eyes of fourteen-year-old Vicky, herself on the brink of massive changes, was sweet and poignant. Especially living through this past year of turmoil and uncertainty, the whole “the world can be scary, but everything will be OK” vibe of this book was great.
One vivid memory I have of reading the book as a kid was being offended that the only thing Vicky mentions about Oregon is the devastation from forest fires. This year, of course, that description was devastatingly apt. But I also realized on re-read that L’Engle mentioned a few more things about Oregon than I’d remembered, but sadly for the Austins, they missed some of the most beautiful things my state has to offer. (If you’re dreaming of an Oregon vacation post-pandemic, feel free to hit me up in the comments for itinerary suggestions!)
The Good
I loved reading about a happy, functional family. The parents gave their children opportunities to explore and test boundaries, disciplined them when they needed it, and provided compassion and a soft place to land for their kids. And while the siblings squabbled – and as someone who traveled cross-country with my sister, I can assure you there are bound to be squabbles! – they were respectful of each other.
The book was a remarkable portrait of our country (and western Canada) in the early 1960s. The places I’ve been were recognizable to me, even decades later. But it also was of its time, so when she talked about seeing bears everywhere in Yellowstone, but didn’t mention wolves or bison, it reminded me how much things have changed over the decades.
And as with all her books, L’Engle weaves in poetry, Bible verses, hymns, and history in a beautiful way, illuminating the through-lines from past to present and making for a rich read.
The Less Good
Zachary Gray. This relationship is super problematic. Teen me found him pretty dreamy, if a little bit scary in that safe way that roller coasters and guided river rafting are scary.
But Adult Me had a different read on this romance, where the older Zachary manipulates his parents into letting him stalk Vicky across the continent. In LA, he takes Vicky on a date only to mock her and make her cry, then apologizes, saying, “I only hurt the people I love.” The book’s climax takes place on a remote mountaintop where Zachary lures Vicky away from the campsite by pretending to be lost at night. Then they both end up trapped and isolated from their families. In the end, although I felt for him and wished the adults in his life hadn’t failed him so miserably, Zachary read as way more Future Abuser Scary than Roller Coaster Scary.
Other less-than-good things? The cast was all white, with just a handful of nameless Indigenous people tossed in like set decoration. (To her credit, L’Engle did take the time to mention the injustice of how white settlers treated native communities, but the passages still made me uncomfortable.) And like the last book I re-read, this book, too, had some fat-shaming, particularly of women. The biggest target was mothers who had “let themselves go” unlike the beautiful and beatific Mrs. Austin.
The Bottom Line
The Moon By Night was a lovely, comforting listen about the vastness and complexity of our country and the landscapes, people and history contained in our borders. With L’Engle’s gentle humor, beautiful prose, and genuine hopefulness about the human capacity for goodness, it’s worth a read. And during these days when we’re stuck at home, reading about an extended vacation might be the closest we’ll get to traveling for a little while.
Today’s kids might find The Moon By Night a bit quaint and old-fashioned, but if they’re curious about how life has and hasn’t changed since their grandparents’ time, this is a good window into that past.
We’d love to hear about your Blast from the Past reads, too. Have you revisited an old favorite? What did you think? Tell us in the comments or shoot us an email!