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On Beverly Cleary's "Dear Mr. Henshaw":




Leigh Botts begins writing to novelist Boyd Henshaw in the second grade. Because he is a small kid, Leigh has special trouble with his "long vowel" sounds, and instead of writing that he "likes" Boyd's novel, he writes that he "licks" it.

A correspondence begins. Henshaw gently encourages Leigh to begin to reflect on his own life. Leigh is surly and impossible, because he is a kid, and specifically because he is in pain; his parents have divorced, and his (overwhelmed?) father is never around.

This novel won't give us a solution to Leigh's deep family problem, but it will pursue other fascinating matters. For example, how can you make sure that your unusually tasty lunch (Mom works for a caterer) won't get stolen? Thieves don't think very deeply, so if you put a false name on the front of the lunch, you're safe, at least for a while.

It's boring to arrive at school early every morning, but if you take an interest in the janitor, if you charm the janitor, then you can form a friendship and watch the time fly. And the janitor might become a subject worth writing about: How nice it is that he stands at the trash can and makes sure that children stop throwing away their expensive retainers after lunch! ("Did you forget your false teeth?")

"Henshaw" has Cleary's trademark gift for detail. Leigh lives in California, on the coast, and every night he listens to the pinging of the nearby gas station until precisely 10:00, when the pinging shuts off, and you can listen to the waves. Leigh has an unusual name ("People think it belongs to a girl") because "Botts" requires an unusual first name--and look what happened with an earlier generation (the unfortunate combo of "Bill and Bonnie Botts"). If you don't like being home alone in the foggy California morning, then you can walk early and very slowly to school, and one way you can slow yourself down is by walking backwards.

At this time, certain people are writing and talking about grit, clear-eyed toughness. I don't want to hear this from Ivanka Trump, but it's OK coming from the Queen, or from Beverly Cleary. Cleary has seen some hard times; she is a child of the Depression. She has "earned authority." There's something bracing in Cleary's voice: "Every kettle must rest on its own bottom." "It seems to me my life has been about solving problems."

That voice is present in "Henshaw"; Cleary is gently urging you to think and to take control of your life (in any way possible), and she is doing it in a way that isn't preachy. People say this novel isn't her best; her Newbery win was like Pacino winning an Oscar for "Scent of a Woman." I'm not sure I agree. I read "Dear Mr. Henshaw" with my heart in my throat. Every time.
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