A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle is perhaps one of the most unique and different books I’ve ever read. The blend of fifth-dimensional physics with philosophical quotes and lyrics can be jarring, especially when it’s a book classified as children’s fiction. But much like its heroine Meg Murry, while it may be difficult to comprehend, it has an unrelinquishable value that comes from it being different.
Mathematical shortcuts. A rebellious face-off with the school principal. Fantastical journeys through the universe. Lines from the Gettysburg Address and the Declaration of Independence. Rearrangement of atoms. A Wrinkle in Time does not limit itself in how many different elements it consists of—and why should it? Those things are what make up our world. And of course, beneath the book’s factual portion are more familiar elements: the fight between good and evil, the love of a family and its incredible power. Just as emotional and human as it is scientific, the book has a charm that is wholly its own.
I first read A Wrinkle in Time when I was eight, believing it to be a book meant for children that age. Since then I’ve reread it again and again, and even now it remains a strange, confusing, and fascinating book. But in the center of the time-bending story is a delightfully real and imperfect girl, Meg Murry. Despite having an incredibly brilliant mind, she’s awkward, impulsive, impatient, and lacks confidence. With her glasses, unruly hair, and braces, she is undoubtedly someone we can feel is real, someone who we might be able to see in the school hallway or in the streets. This realistic and lovable character has kept my bond with the book strong; Meg Murry is, I believe, one of the strongest appeals of this Newbery Medal-winning book.
If you have not, I strongly encourage you to try A Wrinkle in Time: its “weirdness” is what makes it so amazing.
