Canonized

 It had been bothering me for 10 years on and off. It was the last paper I wrote for his class in college. We were told to choose a piece of literature we thought worthy of being in the literary canon. Being a flustered college junior at the time anxiously awaiting to finish the last of her classes in order to get into full-time student teaching and graduate early, I picked a novel I was already reading, wasn't terrible, and fit the requirements so I thought: Jane Eyre. 

Now, Jane Eyre is not a terrible book by any means. I'm sure there are many fans of this novel who would have written a fabulous essay on why it should be a part of the literary canon. Unfortunately, that person was not me, and the essay I wrote was only slightly convincing of its canonical merit. It was my lowest scoring essay of his class for the semester, and I always remembered. 

This professor and I stayed in touch minimally over the years. We may have corresponded 2-3 times since I graduated. It took 10 years for me to have the courage to send him an email, and not only to tell him I wish I had written my essay on another book, but also which book I should have written it on.

Why was I so scared all these years? The book I wanted to choose, and still choose today, pales in difficulty to Jane Eyre. As an English major and graduating senior, choosing a book of importance to be canonized means a high-level, scholarly book, right? That's what I thought, and it took me all these years to finally come to terms with the fact that I thought wrong, and it was perfectly all right.

The book I should have chosen was a book I'd first read as an elementary school student. I read it again in 7th grade as required reading in English class that year. I read it again a few years later. And I read it again this summer. Each time I've read it, I've pulled away different philosophies, lessons, and themes. All of them have been there all along, but it took different life stages and different versions of who I was as a person to see them. 

I should have picked Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech. I've thought about rewriting that paper just to feel like I was being true to myself, but let's be honest. Nobody has any use for me to be writing a literary essay anymore. So instead, I'll share about it here.

1. Walk Two Moons is accessible to people of all ages and abilities. It could be for a challenge for an advanced 4th grader, which is about the time I discovered it. It could be just right for an on-level or below average 8th grader, or a refreshing, simple read for an adult. The protagonist is 13-years-old, so obviously it was written to appeal to the young adult audience of approximately middle school age. But as I mentioned before, I read it many times, and it still spoke to me each time.

2. The book is unpredictable. There are cliffhangers left at the end of multiple chapters, and the ending is not what you expect it to be. When reading it for the first time, it hooks you in a way that you want to keep going. The way it's all woven together is quite ingenious really. The first time I read the book, it took three days. The second time I read it, I finished it in one. And I am not a fast reader.

3. The book provides multiple perspectives depending on the reader's age and experience. Reading it at different periods of life allows the reader to relate to different characters. A middle schooler would relate to Phoebe or Salamanca whereas an adult reader would relate to Mrs. Winterbottom or Mr. Hiddle. 

If you know me, you'll know I relate very personally to Salamanca. That's one of the biggest reasons why I've always loved this book because it made me feel like there was someone out there, albeit fiction, who understand and experienced exactly what I was going through. But the older I've gotten, I've come to realize the true importance of where this book earns its title. And how little people take the time to walk two moons...in someone else's moccasins.