As I mentioned before in my review of Gargoyles what we watch as children can have long lasting impacts in our creative tastes. For instance, when growing up I definitely leaned heavily into fantasy having enjoyed books like The Hobbit or Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and read such series as The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Chronicles of Prydain the Redwall series and Harry Potter.
Looking back, one thing I noticed was that even though I do really enjoy science fiction, I didn’t read much science fiction growing up. I mean, I read plenty of Jules Verne but my experiences with sci-fi were usually through television and films. Things like Star Trek, Star Wars, Farscape etc. So growing up I didn’t read things like The Giver or Fahrenheit 451, it was only later in life that I started reading the works of Isaac Asimov or Philip K. Dick.
So why am I mentioning this? Well, I believe it’s important to look into the things we didn’t initially read as it is to examine the things that we did. Paradoxical as that sounds, to look into classic works beyond the targeted demographic. And that is the topic of this examination, a book I hadn’t read until just a few days ago, Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time.
I’m not really going to do a review, the book’s over fifty years old and there’s already plenty of reviews and analysis for it. Rather I’d like to give my own personal takeaways and what the book meant to me.
For those haven’t read it, do so it’s really good. The story is about Meg Murray, an awkward, young teenage girl (before the torrents of YA novels made that description meaningless) who embarks on a fantastic journey beyond the known reaches of the universe. Accompanied by her precocious younger brother Charles Wallace and newly found friend Calvin O’Keefe. Guided by three strange and quirky women, Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Which and Mrs Who, who may or may not be angels, she hopes to rescue her father from the foreboding planet Camazotz (named after the Mayan underworld god) corrupted by a dark entity.
One chapter in and I’m already regretting that I didn’t read this when I was younger, these characters really spoke to me on a very personal level. Which means it’s time for some real talk.
So when I was in high school I found out that I have Asperger Syndrome, while it was never something too difficult to deal with, it was noticeable. I actually remember when I first found out about it thinking, “well that makes sense.”
I bring this up because the characters of Meg and Charles Wallace have a lot in common with me in this regard. While it wouldn’t presume to place them on the spectrum it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if that’s what Madeleine L’Engle was going for when writing her characters. With Charles Wallace’s delay in speech and rather precocious nature and Meg’s narrowly defined interest and problems interacting on a social nature beyond the usual adolescent awkwardness, I felt a distinct connection to these characters. To know that characters who think the way I do in our own unique way and struggle the way I do in certain situations really comforts me.
This is why the character of Calvin is so important; it’s established early on in the story that he’s a athletic, popular boy in school but finds himself able to truly open up when around Meg and her family. While he downplays his own communicative abilities, feeling like he has to be someone else around others I actually disagree. They do serve an important part to the story but rather than it being a Gift of Gab kind of deal it’s more of case where he knows how to connect to people on a personal level.
The three women, while important to the story, take a more backseat role acting as expositors and guides to our heroes. Their design which seems halfway between a centaur and a Pegasus as seen from the cover art above. They also somewhat remind me of the Lamassu, protector spirits from Mesopotamian myth, combine that with the generally odd descriptions that go into Biblical angels and you have a very surprising design.
And perhaps most surprisingly is the fact that they act as emotional supports for our characters, which actually makes sense considering that our main characters are in fact kids in unfamiliar and often times frightening circumstances. And if I was to consider my previous idea about them being on the spectrum as true, then having kind, supporting, authoritative figures makes them even more important. Growing up nothing freaked me out more than being placed in an unfamiliar situation where I felt I had no control, no plan and no one to help guide through strange and unfamiliar surroundings or circumstances. And while I’m no means an expert on the subject I have found that I’m not alone in this regards and that plenty of other people on the spectrum (and even more who aren’t) feel the same way, worry over the same situation, fear being taken out of the familiar and forced into something new and terrifying.
Which brings me to my final point, the central antagonist on Camazotz known simply as IT. Without giving too much away, IT turned the planet into one of ultimate security at the cost of freedom, efficiency without individuality, stability without expression and equality at the cost of complete conformity. And the children are in near constant danger of being taken into it’s mental grip and becoming another one of IT’s brainwashed automatons. Now the idea that these characters are in danger of losing their individuality may seem far-fetched at first, but when reviewing there was something that I had forgotten, not just within the book but life itself.
One thing that Meg agonizes about early on in the story is her appearance, which for teenage girl is pretty normal. But normalcy is in the eye of the beholder and for Charles Wallace, a young child who’s more eloquent than most anyone his age and only started talking a short while ago. Well, unfortunately that doesn’t fit the definition of “normal” in the 1960’s anymore than it would be today. This is something that’s worried about by both Meg and her mother and the fears of how a child will be able to function in the world is an all too common fear among parents. That as much as Charles Wallace’s pride is the reason that his mind was taken over by IT. Because in a world of unrelenting equality, normalcy applies to everyone, and no one has to worry about being seen as strange or odd.
But at the same time, a world without expression is also a world without love. Which in the end is what Meg uses to free her brother from IT’s mind control, and not just the sisterly love but also the acknowledgement that he is loved for who he is. The validation that he’s special and appreciated for being himself and that he is accepted by his family and friends along with his faults and strengths. I think that it’s important for children reading this book to know that they can be accepted despite not being considered “normal.” That they can find people who will love and accept them even if their own family isn’t an ideal one. And I think it’s important as adults to remember that even the smallest amount of support and validation can not only drive away the darkness from the world, but from ourselves too.
Well, I did not expect my ramblings to go into such topics like the Autism Spectrum but some things really surprise me. Makes me rather curious on what new things I’ll encounter in the next children’s book I read.
Matt the Media Hunter 