I really can't think of the last time I enjoyed reading 600 pages as much as I did this book. One of the most magical, lovely, exciting, terrifying, heartwarming books of my life. ( )

I loved this book and highly recommend it. ( )

An amazing coming-of-age story, set in 1964. Cory Mackenson is out with his dad on a milk delivery route when they see a car go into the lake. Cory's dad tries to get the man out of the car, but it is too late - the man has been beaten and handcuffed to the steering wheel, and he is dead. Sadly, this event torments Cory's dad and Cory. Cory believes he saw something sinister, and he tries to understand what it was, and to solve the murder of the man.
The story follows Cory and his friends throughout the year, and Cory witnesses racism and bigotry and sadness and death. His innocence is robbed from him as he grows up in the small town of Zephyr, Alabama.
A wonderful story. ( )

Good Lord this book wrecked me. Didn't go all the way to 5 stars because it was a mighty slow build that I think could have been cut down a bit, and one of the characters was just a little too Noble Injun for my taste, but a story well done otherwise. I gave it one star for each time it made me cry and I "threw in one more for good luck." ( )

I have ended this book thinking, “what is wrong with me?” Everyone...and I do mean everyone I know...is in love with this book and praising it as the best thing ever written. I liked it, I did, but I didn’t LOVE it, and while I found it stupendous and soaring at times, I found it muddled and mired at others. I wonder if I am one of those adults who has lost the magic of childhood that McCammon evokes in his opening. I confess that I would have liked this book better if there had been nothing magical beyond the wisdom of the Lady. How many near-death experiences can one boy have and still be sent out to wander the town at will by his mother and father? Even in the 1960s (and I was there and had all that luxurious freedom that kids today lack), our parents would have been more cautious with a killer at loose. And, how many disillusionments does it take before a child loses his innocent view of the world...in this case an infinite number.


OK, so I have stated what held me back, now let me say what spurred me on. I need to say how well-written this truly is. I never thought about not finishing it, I never thought I was wasting time, I was mesmerized at moments by the sheer skill McCammon has in storytelling. There are some nuggets of supreme wisdom tucked between these pages and there are nostalgic tugs at the sleeve that almost bring tears.


”He seemed to have aged since that day the Branlins had beaten him senseless; he seemed to be apart from us now, in a way that was hard to explain. I think it was because he had tasted the bitter fruit of pain, and some of the magic carefree view that separates children from adults had fallen away from him forever no matter how hard he tried to pedal his bike in pursuit of it again.”


Now, that rings true, I think, for every man or woman who has even the vaguest memory of being a child and not feeling the weight of the world yet upon their shoulders. Once that weight bears down upon us, we never completely recapture that other feeling.


Beyond capturing the essence of childhood, McCammon also captures the essence of 1960. A time of change that almost forms a wall between then and now for some of us.


”I mean...if it goes so far, even in the little ways, we can’t ever go back. And somebody’ll say ‘Oh, it’s fine we can go to the supermarket after dark and we can pick up and choose from shelves of stuff we’ve never even heard of before, but whatever happened to those milkmen, or those fellas used to sell watermelons out of the back of their trucks, or that woman who sold fresh vegetables right out of her garden and smiled like the sun when you said good mornin’?’ Somebody’ll say ‘Oh, they sell all those things at the supermarket now, and you don’t have to go hither and yon to buy what you need, it’s all under one roof....And then you’ll have stores and roads and houses, but you won’t have towns anymore. And you’ll walk into one of those stores under one roof and you’ll ask for somethin’ and the gum-chewin’ girl’ll say no, we don’t have that. They don’t make that anymore.”


I don’t think this is a book that can be easily forgotten. I think it is one that delivers on its promise of exploring a time and an innocence that is gone. And yet, I feel this niggling pull at the back of throat that carries an aftertaste of dissatisfaction. Probably just because I expected perfection and it wasn’t perfection for me. Close, but no cigar.


After all of that, I gave it a 4-star rating, which means I think others should read it. I would recommend it to others and expect that they will scream at me that I am 100% wrong and this was indeed perfection after all. This is one of those cases where I readily admit, they may be right.
( )