Recently I reread Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta.
I first read this book years ago in middle school, and I honestly can’t keep track of how many times I’ve read it since then. When my mom saw me reading it again a few weeks ago, she said, “Why are you reading that book again? Don’t you get bored of reading the same story over and over?”
And the answer to that, my friends, is no.
This book is unlike any other I have ever read. It’s heartbreaking and heartwarming and heart-wrenching and does everything else to my heart that amazing stories are capable of doing. It’s mysterious and suspenseful but also soothing and familiar. The characters seem to come alive and act out the story as I read it, and I can see the Jellicoe Road so clearly in my mind that it’s almost as if I have been there before. There’s something about this story that simply makes me feel full– I really don’t know how else to describe it.
I wrote a proper review of this book the last time I read it, and I love this book so much that I’m sort of at a loss for more words. But I was overcome with a feeling of adoration for this story once I read it again, and I knew that I had to at least write something about it. This is a book that I will always go back and reread because I seem to learn something new each time I do so. It’s a story that lingers in the back of my mind long after I have finished reading it, which is not something that many books do.
I never thought I would be able to say this with certainty, but I actually think I have a favorite book of all time.
Can you guess what it is?
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