(Image credit to Amazon.com)
I got my copy of Julie of the Wolves (by Jean Craighead George) for my eleventh birthday, and finally (eight years later!) I unearthed it from my bookshelf. Honestly, I chose to read it because I wanted a fast read for break, and it was one of those books that I felt like I needed to read. (You know, to be a "real, cultured" human being.)
I'm not going to lie; it was as hard to get into this book now as it was when I was 11/12. It's a quiet book, and while I'm all for quiet prose, there was very little dialogue and a lot of introspection.
Craighead George obviously knows her stuff; there was a lot of detail in the narrative about the tundra, its wildlife, and its people. I felt like I had a better understanding of that culture when I was done with that book (which, you know, is always a bonus), although the fact that I did was kind of surprising to me.
This book is about identity... and who doesn't love a nice old-fashioned bildungsroman? There's a constant struggle for the protagonist between her two selves, Julie and Miyax. Miyax is her traditional identity, although at the beginning of the book she is looking to flee to San Francisco with her "white" (or, "gussak") self, Julie. Craighead George uses this book to examine the effects of the culture war in the North, and how it affects this young girl.
It's a very mature book, although I didn't feel like doing too much research into the topics it covered or thinking about the themes too much when I was done. It wasn't challenging, but I was occupied while I read it. (If that makes sense.)
-M
