A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A Tale of a Twelve Year Old Reader

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Best, because I was still very young and had all the time in the world to devote entirely to books, worst because, I didn't have anything much to read. I had finished with the five Harry Potters that had been released then, and my mother's collection was overwhelmingly big for me to even attempt. It was then, that bored and lazy with summer, I opened this book-every bit as overwhelming as others but strangely engrossing for a twelve year old, who had a vague idea of French Revolution and had never read a love story before.

Call me deprived of the pleasures of Sweet Valley High and Hardy Boys but A Tale of Two Cities not only became my first love story but also my best one so far! Never had I read anything like it before and nothing would ever be this beautiful! The words, the characters, the drama, the suspense and the romance still haunt me and dance before my eyes. And so, thanks to this book, Dickens became my Grandad who told me stories of London long before I set foot in it and introduced me very, very early on in life, to the magic of classics.


Even today when I look at friends and contemporaries struggling through a classic, unable to fathom its depth and meaning, I am filled with immense and infinite love for Dickens and for this book, that became my first classic ever and that gave birth to this voracious Classics and poetry devouring beast I am today!

That's the story of my little romance with this book. Does it need a review?



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