What a bizarre, disturbing book. And yet, it has a wholesome feel to it. I'm conflicted as to how I really feel about it.

(I randomly found it today in the library of one of the middle schools I work at... Somehow I doubt any of my students appreciating it!) ( )

I read this book back in 1973 and I still remembered it. I think the artwork burned into my brain.

I reconnected with a friend, recently, from thirty years and we were talking about books. I noticed on her book list was Miss Hickory. WE had a discussion and I found this review: http://www.kindertrauma.com/?p=205
which was followed by a trip to the library for the book.

Ah, the good old days of warped children's stories. ( )

Up until the last two chapters, I thought this was a very cute book. Each chapter is a little mini story of different forest creatures and how their paths cross from autumn to spring. I loved seeing how the author tied in different aspects of nature and spun a story around them. I also liked the look inside the domestic life of Miss Hickory (cleaning, canning, gathering food, etc.) However, the last two chapters were simply disturbing. For the sake of spoilers, I will not go in to details. As a child, the end to this book would have left me confused and somewhat scared. ( )

Didn't really work for me - partly because Miss Hickory was rather a pain. The reports of nature were great. The end is...I can't really say unrealistic, when I've already accepted a living twig doll, but unlikely even in that setup, and unrealistically cute. Not terrible, but not particularly enjoyable for me. ( )

Oh my God, how can a book this awful have ever WON a Newbery award? 1946 must have been a miserable year for children's literature.
Miss Hickory is a twig doll, abandoned by the child who created her. She, like all the animals she encounters in the book, is anthropomorphic, though her personality is not developed in the least. She spends the book talking to animals in largely unrelated, tediously boring little chapters. Oddest is the fly-ball out into left field when one chapter is about a Christmas miracle where a baby Jesus in some form or fashion, makes an annual visit to the nearby barn, and then that astonishing tale is dropped just as quickly as it showed up. In the end, a squirrel eats Miss Hickory's head. Good job, Mr. Squirrel. You should have done that about 70 pages earlier! The only good thing I can say about this dreadful tome is that it is short.
Absolutely the only reason to read this book is if, like me, you have a ridiculous neurotic determination to read all of the Newbery winners. But so far, this is the worst one I've read. ( )