"Newspapers are very big on facts, I think," muses Davis (Davey) Wexler, the 15-year-old daughter left behind after her father was shot in the chest [in Tiger Eyes]. "But not on feelings. Nobody writes about how it feels when your father is murdered."
Judy Blume does. And even if your father hasn't been murdered, even if you're no longer 15, and even if you'd rather think about something else, she puts you inside that girl: a luminous-eyed (thus the title) brownette, built like a swimmer, at once achingly vulnerable, funny and tough. In the proper cadence of grief—paralysis, anger, catharsis, gradual acceptance—you know how it feels, slowly, excruciatingly, over a school year's time. And maybe that's why kids like Blume's writing so much. You can cry with a friend, and then when you can't stand any more, she'll poke you in the ribs with a joke. Blume's often cynical, staccato style works splendidly as the voice of a child, who does not yet know enough to round out—and even forgive—adult idiocies.
This is a free excerpt of 170 words. There are 485 words (approx.
2 pages at 300 words per page) in the full critical essay.
Read the rest of this Criticism with our Blume, Judy (Sussman Kitchens) 1938–: Critical Essay by Margaret Mason Access Pass.
