Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret (Piccolo Books)

This remains the defining coming of age story. Still the blueprint for movies like Lady Bird of Eight Grade, just a foundational text for people interested in grounded stories of adolescent ennui. Was shocked to see this came out in 1970, feels very daring for a children's book back then which tracks given people are still trying to get it banned today.

I am a sucker for religious uncertainty, struggling with femininity, and school drama so this ticks all the boxes. Margaret has a great voice that balances overly thoughtful narration with heaps of tween angst. Her titular reframe is initially a bit silly, but once the book begins to explore her anxieties around religion (stemming from pushy adults on all sides), it takes on a greater significance as it's clear her relationship with god means a lot to her despite having no name to put to it.

I do wish the emotional beats weren't reserved for the last 30 or so pages. Much of the book is straightforward scenes of children existing in fairly unremarkable ways (which is itself interesting), but a lot of the major threads go unresolved as there simply aren't enough pages to handle them once the ball starts moving. It has also aged quite severely in many places, which would be alienating enough if everyone wasn't also extremely rich.

Glad to have this as a reference text for similar media, and excited to check out the recent movie which seems to complete the circle of grounded coming of age stories that are maybe more popular than ever.

I first read this book as a child. I’d guess I was twelve. But I hadn’t thought about it in years, until I watched the recent film adaptation. It was so delightful I decided to read the book again.
It’s a funny thing, reading a book in middle age that you last read when you were a child. In my vague memory, Margaret was so grown up. She was dealing with “girl” things I didn’t know much about, which felt very mysterious. And she and her friends seemed wise and confident. I’m sure my image of Margaret and her friends was influenced by my own “big” sisters, who were (and to some degree still are) mythical to me.

Reading the book on the far-far side of childhood — my own children are now adults — these girls seem so small. Of course Margaret is still wise and at moments she and her friends are confident. But they’re children, with childhood fears. And so unsurprisingly the book feels entirely different to me this time around. I always find this kind of thing interesting. Like a bracketing of my life.

Anyway, the book is beautiful. It is full of real emotion, written in a frank intimate style. And Margaret is such a wonderful character. I love love love stories with small stakes. John Green once wrote:

Neither novels nor their readers benefit from attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species.

“The foundational assumption of our species.” I like that a lot. He was talking about how people often ask him if his stories are based on something “true”. But I feel this same way about small stories. They matter. The fact that a story about a wise little girl getting her period can matter so much gives me hope because it means every one of us is living a life worth telling.

Are you still there God? It’s me, Margaret. I know you’re there God. I know you wouldn’t have missed this for anything! Thank you God. Thanks an awful lot…

Thanks an awful lot to you too, Margaret.