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4.16 AVERAGE
4.16 AVERAGE
I love this book. Love, love, love it, deep in my bones and beyond criticism, have loved it for as long as I can remember. I love its delightfully long name, love its weird unpretty illustrations, love its witty narrator and steadfast insistence that children can comprehend and are interested in big ideas about art and knowledge and identity and wonder. I don't know when I first read it - I know it was a gift from my dad, who had a habit of bringing home books with medals on the cover before I was officially old enough to read them. In the case of Bridge to Terabithia, this was devastating. In the case of From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, it was magical.
I once read an essay that pointed out that so many protagonists of children's literature are orphans because it frees the children to have adventures without worrying about the parents back home missing them, or having adults intervene to save them from danger. Harry Potter is an orphan, as are the Boxcar Children. When children are not directly orphaned, the plot usually intervenes to temporarily strand them regardless - the Pevensies are sent to the country because of the air-raids, and their separation from their parents combined with a neat bit of time dilation allows them to fight wars and save Narnia without every once worrying their parents. This is not so of this book, which gleefully allows its children to run away from home without a thought for their parents' fear and distress, and spares the reader from directly having to confront Mr. and Mrs. Kincaids' trauma. As it should be.
Another reviewer has commented, rightly, that all the best children's books feature children behaving in ways that adults would not want young readers to emulate. The fantasy of childhood is the ability to go and have adventures with total certainty that home will be there, safe and loving and the same, when you return. This is the fantasy of Where the Wild Things Are, of Peter Pan, and, of course, of FTMUFOMBEF (phew, even typing out the initials is exhausting!). Reading this novel as a child, I related deeply to Claudia's desire to do something important and mysterious, as well as her desire to run away to somewhere comfortable and beautiful instead of dirty and uncomfortable: the desire to be glamorous and have a secret and an adventure, but to do so with the romance and style your everyday existence lacks. As a kid I remember loving the museum setting, dreaming about how I would live if I escaped to the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, which I visited often with my own parents. I marveled at how cheaply the kids lived, having an unclear understanding of money but definitely knowing that I could no longer buy a hot fudge sundae for 35 cents. And, along with Jamie and Claudia, I definitely believed that there was the possibility that I could solve a 450 year old art mystery that baffled the critics.
I relistened to the novel as an audiobook this past week, for the first time in at least 15 years, and I was delighted and charmed again. The audiobook was narrated by an older lady who imbues Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler's narration with warmth and dry humor. In a way I did not understand as a kid, I now appreciate this odd framing narrative, and the choice to provide our child protagonists with the wisdom and perspective of a much older (but still mischievous and curious) person. She is the Professor Kirk of the novel, winsomely engaging with the children as equals while also teaching them blunt lessons about how the world works. I am nowhere close to being Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler yet, but I am no longer Claudia, either, and I found myself looking at Claudia and Jamie's adventures more through her lens - with amusement and joy at their observations and innovations, but also with recognition. Much like Claudia, I was a smart, privileged kid who nonetheless felt a profound desire to do something important and be changed - and my younger brother was a bit of a cheapskate who loved (and still does love) roughing it. We fought, but also often appreciated each other's humor and wit. He would have made an excellent partner for running away to the Met with.
This is, at its heart, a book about curiosity, and independence, and starting to understand who you want to become as you stand on the threshold between childhood and adulthood, and it remains one of the most perfect works of children's literature of all time.
I once read an essay that pointed out that so many protagonists of children's literature are orphans because it frees the children to have adventures without worrying about the parents back home missing them, or having adults intervene to save them from danger. Harry Potter is an orphan, as are the Boxcar Children. When children are not directly orphaned, the plot usually intervenes to temporarily strand them regardless - the Pevensies are sent to the country because of the air-raids, and their separation from their parents combined with a neat bit of time dilation allows them to fight wars and save Narnia without every once worrying their parents. This is not so of this book, which gleefully allows its children to run away from home without a thought for their parents' fear and distress, and spares the reader from directly having to confront Mr. and Mrs. Kincaids' trauma. As it should be.
Another reviewer has commented, rightly, that all the best children's books feature children behaving in ways that adults would not want young readers to emulate. The fantasy of childhood is the ability to go and have adventures with total certainty that home will be there, safe and loving and the same, when you return. This is the fantasy of Where the Wild Things Are, of Peter Pan, and, of course, of FTMUFOMBEF (phew, even typing out the initials is exhausting!). Reading this novel as a child, I related deeply to Claudia's desire to do something important and mysterious, as well as her desire to run away to somewhere comfortable and beautiful instead of dirty and uncomfortable: the desire to be glamorous and have a secret and an adventure, but to do so with the romance and style your everyday existence lacks. As a kid I remember loving the museum setting, dreaming about how I would live if I escaped to the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, which I visited often with my own parents. I marveled at how cheaply the kids lived, having an unclear understanding of money but definitely knowing that I could no longer buy a hot fudge sundae for 35 cents. And, along with Jamie and Claudia, I definitely believed that there was the possibility that I could solve a 450 year old art mystery that baffled the critics.
I relistened to the novel as an audiobook this past week, for the first time in at least 15 years, and I was delighted and charmed again. The audiobook was narrated by an older lady who imbues Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler's narration with warmth and dry humor. In a way I did not understand as a kid, I now appreciate this odd framing narrative, and the choice to provide our child protagonists with the wisdom and perspective of a much older (but still mischievous and curious) person. She is the Professor Kirk of the novel, winsomely engaging with the children as equals while also teaching them blunt lessons about how the world works. I am nowhere close to being Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler yet, but I am no longer Claudia, either, and I found myself looking at Claudia and Jamie's adventures more through her lens - with amusement and joy at their observations and innovations, but also with recognition. Much like Claudia, I was a smart, privileged kid who nonetheless felt a profound desire to do something important and be changed - and my younger brother was a bit of a cheapskate who loved (and still does love) roughing it. We fought, but also often appreciated each other's humor and wit. He would have made an excellent partner for running away to the Met with.
This is, at its heart, a book about curiosity, and independence, and starting to understand who you want to become as you stand on the threshold between childhood and adulthood, and it remains one of the most perfect works of children's literature of all time.
This was a book that i missed as a child. I think I started it once, but it didn’t grab me (then or now). I managed to finish it because it is (a) quite short and (b) not terrible, just not a favorite.
Two children decide to run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. While they’re there, they eat in the automat, rent a mail box at the Grand Central Post Office, and take baths in a fountain.
They also discover a mystery that leads them to the titular character. I suppose this book was very popular because it was set in a real place. I never went to the met as a child, so it was less relevant to my interests compared to, say, “My side of the Mountain.”
Two children decide to run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. While they’re there, they eat in the automat, rent a mail box at the Grand Central Post Office, and take baths in a fountain.
They also discover a mystery that leads them to the titular character. I suppose this book was very popular because it was set in a real place. I never went to the met as a child, so it was less relevant to my interests compared to, say, “My side of the Mountain.”
adventurous
lighthearted
mysterious
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
lighthearted
medium-paced
adventurous
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
I watched this movie when I was a kid, but never read the book. Last week I got a hold of a copy and downed it in an evening.
It wasn't quite as exciting now that I am older and finished dreaming about running away to a museum (at least, to live there, but I was surprised by how funny it still was. The characters are interesting, the pace is quick and I would certainly recommend this book to others.
It wasn't quite as exciting now that I am older and finished dreaming about running away to a museum (at least, to live there, but I was surprised by how funny it still was. The characters are interesting, the pace is quick and I would certainly recommend this book to others.
I loved this book as a child. Simple but smart and absolutely chock full of whimsy and joy. Definitely made me want to live in a museum as a kid. I appreciated the complexity of the character's for the length and style of the novel, particularly Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, who I adore. A fun little adventure and just a lovely little book overall.
It's a sweet book. The entire last section really brings it home
The book, “From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler,” was all right.
It was also very dated—so dated in fact I checked to see when it had been written. The book was written in the 60s and it definitely showed its age.
The cost to ride the bus, for example, seemed a trifle low (20 cents), as did the cost of pretty much everything else in this book.
But it was the language the main character, Claudia, used that really dated this book. She was constantly correcting her little brother’s grammar in a way that doesn’t seem likely in today’s climate. She seemed kind of prudish and formal for a kid who was only supposed to be 11.
She talked like someone’s old aunt or b*tchy grandmother.
Her brother Jamie was a lot cooler and he seemed a little smarter.
For me, the story started strong and grew weaker as it went on.
I thought the hiding out in the museum storyline was pretty great until they became obsessed with a statue that made the story go left and kind of flame out. I didn’t understand the fixation on the statue and I didn’t like Claudia’s character enough to really empathize with her plight.
I couldn’t see her point of view and I thought she was a creep.
She seemed a privileged soul, and I can’t get behind kids running away from homes where they aren’t experiencing abuse just because they feel like running off.
The kids in this book were rich little brats who didn’t care much about anyone else. They were for sure users. For example, Claudia only invited her little brother Jamie along because he had money, and Jamie only had money because he’d been ripping his best friend off for ages. Neither one of the kids were entirely sympathetic characters.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think I liked Claudia all that much. Her brother was a little better, and Mrs. Basil E. Frankwiler, though kind of hostile toward her lawyer, Saxonberg, was ok.
I think this book was good, but it had the potential to have been even better. I think if the kids had been a little more likeable, and if the adventure in the museum had been more interesting, than this book could have been fantastic. Instead I felt like it flopped a little, and that’s why I’m rating it 3 stars.
It was also very dated—so dated in fact I checked to see when it had been written. The book was written in the 60s and it definitely showed its age.
The cost to ride the bus, for example, seemed a trifle low (20 cents), as did the cost of pretty much everything else in this book.
But it was the language the main character, Claudia, used that really dated this book. She was constantly correcting her little brother’s grammar in a way that doesn’t seem likely in today’s climate. She seemed kind of prudish and formal for a kid who was only supposed to be 11.
She talked like someone’s old aunt or b*tchy grandmother.
Her brother Jamie was a lot cooler and he seemed a little smarter.
For me, the story started strong and grew weaker as it went on.
I thought the hiding out in the museum storyline was pretty great until they became obsessed with a statue that made the story go left and kind of flame out. I didn’t understand the fixation on the statue and I didn’t like Claudia’s character enough to really empathize with her plight.
I couldn’t see her point of view and I thought she was a creep.
She seemed a privileged soul, and I can’t get behind kids running away from homes where they aren’t experiencing abuse just because they feel like running off.
The kids in this book were rich little brats who didn’t care much about anyone else. They were for sure users. For example, Claudia only invited her little brother Jamie along because he had money, and Jamie only had money because he’d been ripping his best friend off for ages. Neither one of the kids were entirely sympathetic characters.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think I liked Claudia all that much. Her brother was a little better, and Mrs. Basil E. Frankwiler, though kind of hostile toward her lawyer, Saxonberg, was ok.
I think this book was good, but it had the potential to have been even better. I think if the kids had been a little more likeable, and if the adventure in the museum had been more interesting, than this book could have been fantastic. Instead I felt like it flopped a little, and that’s why I’m rating it 3 stars.