spoilers, i think.
first read: Five stars
reread: Five stars
reread, again: Five stars
"here there are no folds in the fields, only wide open planes, scarcely a hill in sight. and instead of church towers they have spires that thrust themselves skyward like a child putting his hand up in class, longing to be noticed. but god, if there is one, notices nothing here. he has long since abandoned this place and all of us who live in it."
picking up this book for the first time a couple months after it won its second award is a memory i still hold dear to me, i must've been eight years old, maybe nine, but i remember hearing about this book and racing to get my hands on it. there was something about the title that fascinated me, and the cover edged me even further to want to purchase it. of course i didn't really comprehend the emotional weight of the book, and i feel as though i only found out the true meaning of its title many years after it had been payed for and dragged home. i never actually read it until a couple years later, but it sat gloriously on my shelf waiting until i had enough maturity to make sense of it and the message it contained within. i can scarcely remember the first summer that i actually decided to start reading it, i didn't get much farther than page twenty, but there was something about those twenty pages that enticed me to want to read it sometime in the future. i kept thinking about it though, attempting to silence yet feed my curiosity, and every time i looked at my shelf i would just see it gazing at me from its little podium.
the first time i actually ever sat down to read it, i was completely blown away by everything; from the writing style to the story to the relationships to the characters to the descriptions. there was not one thing about this book that let me down, not even the ending that still hangs over me and keeps me thinking about what might have happened to tommo. of course, i always like to believe he survived the battle of somme and managed to make it back to his mother and to molly and to big joe, who would happily welcome him back by loudly singing oranges and lemons, with that same big and joyful grin that tommo so incessantly spoke about and adored. i always like to think big joe believed that charlie was in heaven, watching from above the highest tower of the church, where big joe once curled up into a ball and slept through a haunting night when bertha was taken from him.
the second time i sat down to read it, despite already knowing the story and how devastated the ending would leave me, and how empty i would feel after i closed the book and was forced to exit a world that had captivated me and drawn me in from beginning to end, i was still blown-away. the characters still surprised me and i found myself falling in love with them all over again, i found myself mourning and suffering and feeling the tender happiness that would soon be replaced by sorrow or pity, for a second time. and i already knew what i had signed up for when the last chapter blinked up at me at three in the morning on a school night, but the feeling of loss hit me like it was the first time i had ever read this book.
there is something about this work that keeps you thinking about it, even after you're finished and already have a new book in your hands, settling down infront of a fireplace and getting ready to flip the first page and dive into a new world. the thought of tommo fighting in the battle of somme in an attempt to avenge a brother that was unfairly taken from him, and hating the man who passed down the sentence despite having already been killed the day after charlie himself was executed, with burning eyes because he knew if the english won this he could go back home and see his mother and big joe and molly. to see the brook where him and charlie and molly would go poaching and talk for hours under the night sky, to remember the night when they saw the yellow plane and spoke to the pilot and recieved a bag of humbugs that he would always brag about at school, to recall all those moments where he passed letters from charlie to molly and from molly to charlie. to remember everything, to feel and smell and see everything.
and what keeps me thinking the most is the knowledge that i'll keep coming back to this book, no matter what (which just keeps happening).
"the next day, the regiment is marching up the road towards the somme. it is late june, and they say there's soon to be an almighty push and we're going to be a part of it. we'll push them all the way back to berlin. i've heard that before. all i know is that i must survive. i have promises to keep."