At Camp Sequoyah, a couple of different years, cabin counselors read this book to us at night before we slept (by kerosene lamp, naturally). But between other things interfering, and frequently going on overnight camping trips away from the cabin, and the real shortness of a summer, I never heard the whole book.
So this book was a nostalgic closure on a sense of longing the memory of the boy and the raccoon have held on me for 30 years.
While the book isn't as evocative as I remembered (as a child, the narrative of the first hearing of a whippoorwill was full and sweet. the soliloquy on his father's gift of long life, and his mother's which was less than half, which made me ponder for many days, stretching into years, is basically one line and so doesn't actually exist), it still captures a part of childhood and a bit of magic wonderfully. And Rascal is really irresistible.
So this book was a nostalgic closure on a sense of longing the memory of the boy and the raccoon have held on me for 30 years.
While the book isn't as evocative as I remembered (as a child, the narrative of the first hearing of a whippoorwill was full and sweet. the soliloquy on his father's gift of long life, and his mother's which was less than half, which made me ponder for many days, stretching into years, is basically one line and so doesn't actually exist), it still captures a part of childhood and a bit of magic wonderfully. And Rascal is really irresistible.
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