I went and saw a movie. Note: this is not something that happens all that often, life being what it is. But there we were, on a June night, post-appetizer and beer (truly the nicest, cheapest way to precede a seven o'clock movie), heading in to see Moonrise Kingdom.
Why did no one tell me this was a movie about children's literature?
I mean, I guess because someone could say that it isn't about children's literature. But that someone would be wrong.
The whole thing is so bizarre and sweet and confusing and touching, all at once. And the girl? Our hero? Or at any rate, my hero? (Though the young gentleman is also, of course, a hero.) She is a reader. A reader of the sort a few of you may know. Or be.
Even thinking about it I am strangely and inexplicably moved. I don't want to tell you what the story is, because it's so lovely to go to a movie and not know. And I don't want to tell you what the characters are like, because I want you to discover their painful vulnerability and harshness on your own. I mostly just want you, if you are a reader, and particularly if you are a reader of children's literature, to go see it, and then we can talk about it.
And let me just say: judging from your comments, and everything I know about you, readers? You would pack the exact same things in your suitcase as she did.