Here’s the thing, dear readers. Today’s youth is simply missing a HUGE chunk of what you and I got served up in spades. Classic literature and nursery rhymes just aren’t part of their nightly (or even daily) ritual anymore. As a result, they miss whole portions of literary nuances in their own reading as they grow older.
I’m not averse to introducing them to what they should have gotten when they were younger in the reader’s digest format. Hey, they’re reading (win) and being exposed to stories from long ago, stories that are, in large part, the foundation of TODAY’S stories.
Would I rather they heard the tales straight from the horse’s mouth? You betcha. I have fond memories of Rudyard Kipling, thanks to my father’s readalouds. But I’m a realist. Which is why I agreed to read this book upon the urging of a student who “only reads classic books.” Jack London, Rudyard Kipling, Hans Christian Anderson and Harriet Beecher Stowe? Sure, they’re abridged. But maybe, just maybe, this little bite entices ‘em to pick up the real thing.