Chapter Thirty-Eight: Tuck Everlasting

What better way is there to pass a hot August afternoon than sitting in the shade with a tall iced tea and rereading this classic by Natalie Babbitt?  After all, this whole book is, at heart, a paean to the end of summer, both in a literal and figurative sense as the narrator draws our attention to the inevitable descent into autumn from August and the descent (which ought to be inevitable) of human lives from the prime of their youth towards death.  Aside from the pleasure of reading a book about August during August, the characters and plot are intriguing, but what really draws me into this text, time and again, is Babbitt's prose.  I can never resist reading at least the prologue aloud: the sound of the words and sentences fits so perfectly with their meaning, and somehow Babbitt manages to create a feeling of great gravity and portent without having the writing seem contrived or corny.  This novella is a delightful way to while away a slow summer afternoon, but even in the dead of winter, this book is worth reading.