Janine's Reviews > A Light in the Attic

The feelings I have about Shel Silverstein's A Light in the Attic and Where The Sidewalk Ends contrast so sharply with the books themselves. I loved these funny, whimsical and sometimes downright sadistic poems with all of my young heart. Even now, I feel like I'm getting away with something when I think of Clarence Lee from Tennesee who loved the commercials he saw on TV. I am still afraid for Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too who never returned to the world they knew. In Shel Silverstein's books I found all of my childish wishes drawn out to their natural, absurd conclusions. But I was also given a glimpse of the way that language could create beauty and inspire wonder, for we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in! I never guessed how a bald, bearded, barefoot man with a guitar could read my mind. It is not too much to say that I revere both works. Which is not the point of these poems at all.