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Bridge to Terabithia is one of those books that people either love or hate. I’ve heard both opinions, but I’ve yet to hear anyone respond to Katherine Paterson’s masterpiece with “meh.”
Some people will rant about the sudden tragedy being a betrayal to the reader and a way to traumatize every fifth-grade class that reads it. Some will hold it up as a landmark of the portrayal of grief in middle grade fiction.
But with so much focus poured onto the last few chapters, it’s easy to miss the slow, internal trek that markes Jesse’s progression from page one, through the sharp twists of the story, and past the last page.
And I think that’s a shame.
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