Matilda (1988)

Even though I read a few other Roald Dahl books as a kid and this clearly would’ve been up my alley (there’s a brown-haired girl surrounded by a stack of books on the cover, what’s not to love?), I never got around to it until earlier this year. This is also an instance where I encountered an adaptation, the cast recording for the musical, first, and while the two are different in a number of ways, both have their definite charms.

The novel tells the story of Matilda Wormwood, a 5-year-old genius born to a depressingly-ordinary family that couldn’t care less about her extraordinary abilities.  Matters worsen when she starts school and comes face to face with the tyrannical Miss Trunchbull, whose strictness and inhumane punishments keep the student body in fear, and it’s up to Matilda to stand up to the Man (or Woman, in this case.)

This story is peak Children’s Book by British Author, in which horrible people who neglect and/or abuse children are over-the-top villains who can be defeated by clever kids. It’s one of those things you can’t stop and think about too much when you read it as an adult, because when you’re a kid, you can easily suspend your disbelief. Yes, Miss Trunchbull would totally pick up a girl by the pigtails and hammer-throw her over the fence. Naturally, only Matilda can stop her. You just roll with it.

I like seeing the sensibilities that were preserved in the musical, like the opening diatribe on parents who believe their average-at-best brats are special little miracles. It’s fun getting to know some of the friends who populate Matilda’s small world and watch her awful parents get what’s coming to them through Matilda’s clever pranks.

My favorite part, though, is just the portrayal of Matilda as an extraordinary young girl with a hunger for learning. I love the chapter, before she starts school, where she discovers the library and proceeds to read everything she possibly can, starting in the children’s section and working her way up from there. I like that she’s shown to be a genius but still a 5-year-old who doesn’t just automatically know everything—for instance, she admits to not always understanding what Ernest Hemingway means in his books, but she’s drawn to them anyway because the writing is so beautiful. They’re different in demeanor and attitude, but I’m reminded a little of Charles Wallace Murry, another pint-sized genius who didn’t pop out of the womb already knowing everything there is to know. She’s constantly learning, that’s the point.

This was a fun read, and since the trailer for the movie adaptation of the musical just came out, I’m glad I finally got around to the book. It’s easy to see why it’s so beloved.

Warnings

Children’s-book abuse and neglect, scary moments for kids, and plenty of “don’t try this at home.”