Reading The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane at age 28 is not as smooth as one should ever expect.
“And Edward was surprised to discover that he was listening.” (77, DiCamillo)
Yes, it’s word-choice, narration, even pace are designed for younger readers. Again, I’m telling you: you won’t go reading it in one go. Trust me: it’s not how you’re supposed to read and experience it.
“I have been loved, Edward told the stars.” (120, DiCamillo)
Reading it will not only bring you to Edward’s journey—it will somehow ricochet against your own. As Edward lounges around, unaffected by love and attention, I swear I could easily visualize the same scene, only with a different set of characters. Myself and the people who cared about me. It reminded me of those times when I didn’t say “thank you.” When I fumbled at expressing gratitude, care, worse—love. Here we see how not one but multiple losses could work to be the best awakening—which is jarring to a china rabbit (much more to the mortal reader). Edward’s despair ring a familiar ache because as adults, we all have our fair share of heartbreaks.
“Edward felt a sharp pain somewhere deep inside his china chest. For the first time, his heart called out to him. It said two words: Nellie. Lawrence.” (86, DiCamillo)
Out of topic: I found the illustration a bit misleading. It made me speculate that Edward will learn to move by itself (just as it learned about its heart) and that it will walk home to Egypt street. Or was it just me?