Sharon Creech’s young adult novel Chasing Redbird offers a unique and painful look at death, belonging and family through the eyes of a thirteen-year old. Creech deftly balances each of these weighty topics against one another, creating a small, detailed world colored by both loss and adventure. Our protagonist, Zinny, is oft-overlooked and quiet, but sees the magic (and terror) in the world in a way that her many brothers and sisters can’t imagine. Her ability to see and feel what those around her cannot, coupled with her feelings of estrangement from her large, boisterous family, open Zinny up to considering extraordinary perspectives of her reality. Her Uncle Nate’s seemingly deranged behavior, for example, is understood by Zinny to be a roadmap to the past and to those she has lost. And the opportunity to claim and revitalize the trail behind her house begins as a doubt-filled distraction but eventually reveals her own family in an entirely new light. Death and loss form the strongest undercurrent of the plot, touching each of the characters and causing them to “play” with death each in their own way. At one particularly touching point in the book, death even comes into sharper focus than I thought possible in a YA novel. Sanity is also explored, mainly through the characters of Uncle Nate and Aunt Jessie. Having Zinny contend with the reality of her beloved Aunt Jessie curled up in her dresser drawer, wracked with longing for her absent child, is a striking prospect. Creech’s unflinching approach to both death and sanity consistently amazed me. Over the past week, I found myself thinking about Chasing Redbird several times a day, and was surprised at the book’s impact on me. It is at once low-key terrifying and incredibly warm. It punches above its weight with masterful characters and weighty images. And it sticks with you. I loved it.
Our protagonist, Zinny, is oft-overlooked and quiet, but sees the magic (and terror) in the world in a way that her many brothers and sisters can’t imagine. Her ability to see and feel what those around her cannot, coupled with her feelings of estrangement from her large, boisterous family, open Zinny up to considering extraordinary perspectives of her reality. Her Uncle Nate’s seemingly deranged behavior, for example, is understood by Zinny to be a roadmap to the past and to those she has lost. And the opportunity to claim and revitalize the trail behind her house begins as a doubt-filled distraction but eventually reveals her own family in an entirely new light.
Death and loss form the strongest undercurrent of the plot, touching each of the characters and causing them to “play” with death each in their own way. At one particularly touching point in the book, death even comes into sharper focus than I thought possible in a YA novel. Sanity is also explored, mainly through the characters of Uncle Nate and Aunt Jessie. Having Zinny contend with the reality of her beloved Aunt Jessie curled up in her dresser drawer, wracked with longing for her absent child, is a striking prospect. Creech’s unflinching approach to both death and sanity consistently amazed me.
Over the past week, I found myself thinking about Chasing Redbird several times a day, and was surprised at the book’s impact on me. It is at once low-key terrifying and incredibly warm. It punches above its weight with masterful characters and weighty images. And it sticks with you. I loved it.