On Watership Down Part II

The seventh an eighth grade were about as close to a living horror show as any time in my life.  I was one of a handful of Caucasian kids in a predominately Hispanic and African-American school.  I trod every day in absolute fear, hiding from everyone as best as I could.  Kids routinely called me names and pushed me around.  I sat on tacks, endured endless ridicule and the occasional spit wad.  Bullies gravitated to my like bees to honey, and though I was never beat up, the threat of an asskicking was a constant topic of conversation.

It was at this time that I began to truly immerse myself in the world of books, and made the transition from young to adult fiction.  As a means of escape, I voraciously plowed through book after book.  And the largest and meatiest of these novels was “Watership Down”. 

It took me many months to read, as it was way above my reading level.  Often I found myself rereading passages over and over again.  I was determine to go on Hazel and Fiver’s epic journey.  It was the first book that I could honestly feel in my heart and gut.  The gripping suspense of Bigwig caught in the wire.  The frustration of Hazel’s attempts to lead a band of ornery rabbits.   The triumph of Blackberry’s great escape plan coming to full fruition.  The sorrow of many deaths on a long and painful road.  When I finished this book, I was hooked on reading forever.  If a book could be this powerful, this moving, this purely magical, what else was in store in the world of literature??

—David F.

(What indeed!  Next time, find out what I have discovered in rereading “Watership Down” a dozen times during the last 25 years of my life.  —David F.)