Gilly's Great

The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson

I find myself revisiting the books of my youth. Yes, it probably has something to do with being a mother, yet my three-year-old is nowhere near ready for the chapter books I've been picking up at garage sales and used book sales. Indeed, by the time he is ready for them, he'll probably have little interest in books that are even now out of print.

So I'm under no delusions that I'm buying these books for myself. No, I'm buying these books out of self-indulgent nostalgia. I see the covers or hear the titles and I'm reminded of the first time I fell in love-in love with reading and the written word. I'm reminded of how I fell in love with storytelling, with the creation of characters, with the exploration of ideas on paper.

One of the books I had all but forgotten was the Newbery Honor Book by Katherine Paterson, The Great Gilly Hopkins. Indeed, it had passed completely from my memory until I saw it on a shelf at our used bookstore. I plucked it from its dusty bed and was immediately struck with one of those breath-stealing moments of yearning and recognition; those moments where a long-forgotten chord is strummed upon the heart.

I suppose it is redundant to tell you I purchased the book. How could I not?

It can be dangerous, though, to revisit the friends of one's youth. They don't always age well, they have wrinkles where you don't expect it, or lack the charm and wit that you remember them dazzling you with. So I re-read the book with a bit of trepidation-would Gilly still beguile me the way she did when I was a teenager?

The Great Gilly Hopkins, I'm happy to say, has aged very nicely. Indeed, I found an appreciation for her that I didn't have as a child. But perhaps I should introduce you to her before I tell you how she's changed.

Katherine Paterson is one of the authors that I would classify as "courageous." She doesn't shy from the ambiguous ending or characters that are rough around the edges. Sometimes it is difficult to like her protagonists, so antagonistic is their behavior. Gilly-or Galadriel as she was named but won't let anyone call her-is very rough around the edges. She likes to shock people and "acts out" to get attention. We get to see her more vulnerable side. We see that she is aggressive and mean because she is already certain that people won't like her and is determined to beat them to the punch by giving them lots of reasons to dislike her.

Gilly hasn't had a lot of love in her life so far. She's a foster child who has been bounced from one home to another. At the opening of the book she is being taken to a new home, a home that is run by the large and genial Maime Trotter. Trotter is almost the antithesis of Gilly. She doesn't care how difficult a child is, she loves that child, unconditionally, and totally. In other words, she's about to turn Gilly's life upside down.

Mind, I'm not saying that Gilly walked in, felt loved for the first time, and then turned into a happy, cooperative child. Rather, this is one area which I appreciated much more about the book as an adult. As an adult, I have a slightly cynical expectation that any young adult book I read will have a happy ending. I really ought to shed that smugness as I've found novelists for adolescents to be much more willing to challenge their readers than adult novelists.

There were portions of this book that made me squirm. I should warn that I don't mean that as a criticism. I like it when a book-especially a book that is ostensibly written for children-is able to push me out of my comfort zone and force me to think. Gilly takes a very dim view of having to live with a boy (William Ernest) she calls "retarded" because he is slow of speech and easily disturbed. She also reacts very negatively to Mr. Randolph, an older black man who is blind. It is her reaction to Mr. Randolph that has landed The Great Gilly Hopkins on several banned book lists. She uses the reprehensible n-word and behaves in a highly racist, very hateful manner. Yet, I wouldn't recommend changing a word of it. After all, Paterson isn't trying to create a protagonist who does everything right-a protagonist that her teenage readers would be unable to relate to. Rather, she has created a highly flawed girl who is struggling with her place in society-and will continue to struggle for the rest of her life.

Paterson's book has continued to show up on school reading lists and to be printed again and again because the message of the book is still a pertinent one. We still must learn to overcome our own hateful impulses, we still must learn to cope when we learn those who should love us don't, and we still must learn to adapt to a world that refuses to fit our daydreams.

So if you have a 10- to 15-year-old, consider buying this book for him or her. Just make sure you read it first and are prepared to discuss it if your child comes with questions. It's not a comfortable book, but it is a moving one.

- B. Redman