My Gal Sal
I was/am the biggest Judy Blume fan. Her books really resonated with me growing up, and I believe are the reason that I prefer first person narrator stories to this day. There was something just so real about Judy Blume books – they were relatable and honest, but I always felt had a good sense of humor (or a lightness if you will) to them. Like even when Margaret was getting her period in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, I was still happy with the story and wanted to continue. I never thought, “Code red? I’m out.”
The other day I was getting ready to take a bath and wanted something lighthearted to read (and I don’t bring my Kindle in the tub), so randomly I chose to read Starring Sally J. Freedman As Herself, which I loved as a kid and read numerous times, of course – that goes without saying - I but I don’t recall was ever my favorite. However, having finished it, as an adult, I actually think that little miss Sally J. was probably the character that I related to the most.
The story follows Sally J. Freedman, a daydreaming fifth grader who, after her brother contracts a kidney infection, moves to Miami Beach with her older brother, mother, and grandmother. She has to make new friends in an unfamiliar, yet fun environment and also thinks that her neighbor is Hitler and worries that her father will die this year, since her uncles died at the same age. Sally is constantly making up stories and daydreams to pass her time and they are always completely over the top, or, I think, as the kids would say, extra. The fantasies are fucking fabulous, like solving a crime, then being cast as herself in the movie version. I was, and still am, a huge daydreamer, and I’m also the younger of two and sometimes things were lost on me that the rest of my family got, so Sally was my homie.
Set in 1947, it has lots of historical and pop culture references of the time, which was definitely lost on me as a kid. I mean, I knew about segregation and WWII, but the scenes in the book were just inconsequential plotlines to me then, but now I found to be some of the most interesting. I also didn’t know that Margaret O’Brien, in 1947, was a child star – I mean, I didn’t know who she was at all, and I only learned the other day when I googled her. I always assumed she was an adult star, so I never got how Sally thought that her feet would fit in her shoes. I also didn’t know what The Outlaw was as a kid, or why Sally’s brother wanted to see it. Thank you always to Leonardo DiCaprio for enticing me to watch a movie about Howard Hughes, even if The Aviator was so not Catch Me If You Can.
Oh, and I lived for the telephone party line. I would have totally listened in on everyone’s phone calls and, in fact, I remember, after first reading this book, asking my dad if he ever had a party line and if so, did he used to eavesdrop. Yes, he did, and no, he did not. Lame!
I loved the scenes in school with Peter Hornstein because who didn’t love having a crush on a boy in school and I also liked the scenes with her brother because they reminded me of my sister and I.
My one complaint, that I thought I would have figured out by re-reading Starring Sally J. Freedman As Herself now, was that we never truly find out about the “crazy man” in the woods. Central to the plot, and perhaps the entire catalyst of the story, is that Douglas gets a kidney infection from falling into the river, which makes his parents decide that he needs to recover in a warmer climate, hence the move to Miami. Douglas and his buddies were playing in the woods that the local kids have been told to stay away from because a crazy man hangs out there. At the end of the book, Douglas warns Sally to stay away from the woods when they go back to New Jersey because he hurt himself while running away from the “crazy man.” I always wanted to know why he was crazy – like I want a full dossier. I thought that one of the parents or Douglas would say something that went over my head as a kid, and I would know why he was a bad guy. I guess he’s supposed to be a pedophile? But we don’t really know. Not cool Judy Blume. I want my books written for 9 year olds with a side of Dateline.
