Do your childhood favorites hold up?A re-read of A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

When I am asked in security questions, “What is your favorite book?” I always write A Wrinkle in Time.  I still have my battered copy with the torn dust jacket with a printing date of 1969, perhaps marking the first time I read the book, although it’s possible I checked it out of the library before begging for my own copy.  It was this book that turned me on to science fiction, particularly to stories about time travel and which led to other adolescent favorites such as Time at the Top by Edward Ormondroyd, The Octagon House by Andre Norton and all of the books by Edward Eager, especially The Thyme Garden.  I had decided to re-read the book in anticipation of the new film version due out March 9 but hesitated after reading Michael Dirda’s column in The Washington Post (“‘A Wrinkle in Time’: Let’s hope the movie is better than the book” , February 27, 2018)in which he concluded after his re-read that  “Artistically, the book is a mess; it’s illogical, derivative and confusing, with a rushed and unconvincing ending.  In 200 pages, L”Engle throws together magic, folklore, science fiction, dystopian nightmare, Christian religiosity, 1950’s fears about communism, class notions about individuality and conformity, mystical transcendence, some slapstick humor and a lot of sentimental pablum.” Like returning to your elementary school and being surprised how low the water fountains are to the floor or discovering how gentle the slope of the hill you had thought was a sledding mountain, I suddenly worried that my treasured memory of the book would be exposed for misguided taste by my 12 year-old self.  I decided to brave it anyway.

Although I will readily concede that the writing of J.K. Rowling is significantly more focused, clever and developed – that, in fact, the Harry Potter books are better written than L’Engle’s 1962 work, as are probably many modern books for adolescents, there’s still something to love about A Wrinkle in Time.  As a book that celebrates female empowerment, it fits right in with 2018. Meg is a socially awkward science and math nerd with frizzy hair and glasses and  she is the heroine of the story. It is the girl, not the boy or the dad, who saves the day in the end. Meg brings to mind Shuri, sister to King T’Challa in “Black Panther”, who presents as a wizard of a scientist but who, when called upon to defend her kingdom, is also a warrior princess. The stars (the amusing Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who and Mrs. Which)  who assume human form to summon Meg, Charles Wallace and Calvin to rescue Mr. Murry, choose to be human women.  They are strong, mystical creatures who seem to work for God (Calvin describes them as “angels” at one point) in the fight against the powerful IT, the embodiment of evil.  The book is not overtly Christian as, say The Chronicles of Narnia, but rather acknowledges some prime mover who sides with goodness.  Also, fairly modern is the notion that spirituality and science go together and are not opposing forces. 

The planet where Mr. Murry is imprisoned is controlled by IT; people walk around with blank faces, moving in sync with a rhythmic pulse that permeates the planet and they exude no emotion beyond an undercurrent of fear.  While this could align with Cold War concerns about communist take-overs, one could, with a few minor changes, bring the abject conformity up to date; give everyone a smart phone to stare at.  Evil in the book is clear and recognizable.  IT is an entity that takes the physical form of a brain and planets that have succumbed to IT can be seen from a distance wrapped in a black cloud.  Penetrating the cloud leaves one icy cold.  The book was written when evil was more obviously identifiable in the form of the USSR; it makes one long for those days as the villains in our society wear suits and smile while they take your health care away and can only send “thoughts and prayers” to the survivors of school shootings.

I have to agree with Mr. Dirda that the ending is rushed.  It takes Dorothy the whole journey to gradually figure out that it is love of home and friends that will carry her safely back to Kansas.  Meg seems to figure it out in a spontaneous epiphany.  Still, is that recognition such a bad way to resolve the book?  After all, the takeaway here is that caring about others, valuing individuality, fighting for goodness and learning personal strength are all important characteristics.  Girls can be heroines and maybe there’s a whole large universe out there with the possibility that other civilizations exist and trips to the stars are possible.