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The Secret Garden (Penguin Popular Classics)…
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The Secret Garden (Penguin Popular Classics) (original 1911; edition 2007)

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

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23,07941488 (4.15)797
Member:gjanem
Title:The Secret Garden (Penguin Popular Classics)
Authors:Frances Hodgson Burnett
Info:Penguin Classics (2007), Edition: New Ed, Paperback, 288 pages
Collections:Your library
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The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett (1911)

1910s (29)
Garden (1)
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English (405)  Italian (3)  German (3)  Spanish (2)  All languages (413)
Showing 1-5 of 405 (next | show all)
A really good read, and a classic, but not really my thing. ( )
  SarahGraceGrzy | Oct 2, 2018 |
“The Secret Garden” passed me by during childhood. Don’t know why, as I read a lot during my primary school years.

Having read and enjoyed it as an adult, however, I’m certain I would’ve loved it as a child. It has that charming quality that you find in Louis May Alcott's children's books.

The descriptive parts are vivid. I’m no gardening fanatic, but loved every minute of following little Mary around the huge gardens, especial the secret one.

I like how the robin is used as a character, and how he helps to change Mary from a selfish brat into a precious child.

My only disappointment – a slight one at that – is the two closing chapters. Without giving anything away, the narrative switches gears in that it changes focus from Mary to Colin and his father.

Yes, this is important, and it should be worked through to a satisfactory closure, but Mary is sidelined, pushed right of the limelight, when this – in my mind at least – is her story.

In other words, I felt disappointed that the main character doesn’t get the last word in or have the same level of closure as the supporting cast.

Despite the above criticism, it’s not so disappointing that it detracts from the story overall. Therefore, I feel this charming little tale deserves five stars. ( )
  PhilSyphe | Sep 26, 2018 |
I love this book. It was my first chapter book that was given to me as a birthday gift. I love the story line. The cool part is, I have started reading it to my son recently. I read it about a month ago. ( )
  MsYvette83 | Sep 2, 2018 |
A very sweet, and well written book. A perfect read for February/March/April, and fits the transition from winter to summer. I just disliked Colin so much, that it weighed down my opinion of the book. In the middle of the book you find colin and, after that the focus on Mary disappears almost completely. I was very displeased with that, because she was in sort the main character. That said it is a book that makes you very happy, and makes you think about being outside more. ( )
  marie2830 | Sep 2, 2018 |
summary: Mary, a girl with a wealthy family, becomes an orphan after her parents pass away suddenly. She is then treated like normal, nothing special. Although she is told not to wander around and explore, she does anyway and finds a garden within the walls of the mansion that she is living in. She also discovers that her cousin, who is said to be terribly ill, is not ill at all and was just never given the opportunity to grow and explore for himself.
reflection: As a child, I always pretended that I, myself, had a secret garden that no one knew of. I used to play outside for hours in our backyard making areas of magical possibilities. Reading this book again made me want to do it all over again!
  dempseydee | Aug 21, 2018 |
Showing 1-5 of 405 (next | show all)

» Add other authors (60 possible)

Author nameRoleType of authorWork?Status
Burnett, Frances Hodgsonprimary authorall editionsconfirmed
Bailey, JosephineNarratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Carter, Helena BonhamReadersecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Dahl, SophieIntroductionsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Gibson, FloNarratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Hague, MichaelIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Hömke, FriedelTranslatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Howell, TroyIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Hughes, FinolaNarratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Hughes, ShirleyIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Ingpen, RobertIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Karhulahti, SariTranslatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Konigsburg, E. L.Introductionsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Lawrie, RobinIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Maroney, VanessaNarratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Masterman, DodieIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
McCaddon, WandaNarratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Mitchell, KathyIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Muller, JillIntroductionsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Robinson, CharlesIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Rust, GrahamIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Savage, KarenNarratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
South, AnnaAfterwordsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Tudor, TashaIllustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Unwin, Nora S.Illustratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Veegens-Latorf, E.Translatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Ward, JohannaNarratorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed

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When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle, everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen.
Quotations
The seeds Dickon and Mary had planted grew as if fairies had tended them. Satiny poppies of all tints danced in the breeze by the score, gaily defying flowers which had lived in the garden for years and which it might be confessed seemed rather to wonder how such new people had got there. And the roses—the roses! Rising out of the grass, tangled round the sundial, wreathing the tree trunks, and hanging from their branches, climbing up the walls and spreading over them with long garlands falling in cascades—they came alive day by day, hour by hour. Fair, fresh leaves and buds— and buds—tiny at first, but swelling and working Magic until they burst and uncurled into cups of scent delicately spilling themselves over their brims and filling the garden air.
And over walls and earth and trees and swinging sprays and tendrils the fair green veil of tender little leaves had crept, and in the grass under the trees and the gray urns in the alcoves and here and there everywhere were touches or splashes of gold and purple and white and the trees were showing pink and snow above his head and there were fluttering of wings and faint sweet pipes and humming and scents and scents. And the sun fell warm upon his face like a hand with a lovely touch. And in wonder Mary and Dickon stood and stared at him.
They always called it Magic and indeed it seemed like it in the months that followed--the wonderful months--the radiant months--the amazing ones. Oh! the things which happened in that garden! If you have never had a garden you cannot understand, and if you have had a garden you will know that it would take a whole book to describe all that came to pass there. At first it seemed that green things would never cease pushing their way through the earth, in the grass, in the beds, even in the crevices of the walls. Then the green things began to show buds and the buds began to unfurl and show color, every shade of blue, every shade of purple, every tint and hue of crimson. In its happy days flowers had been tucked away into every inch and hole and corner. Ben Weatherstaff had seen it done and had himself scraped out mortar from between the bricks of the wall and made pockets of earth for lovely clinging things to grow on. Iris and white lilies rose out of the grass in sheaves, and the green alcoves filled themselves with amazing armies of the blue and white flower lances of tall delphiniums or columbines or campanulas. "She was main fond o' them--she was", Ben Weatherstaff said.
It was the sweetest, most mysterious-looking place any one could imagine. The high walls which shut it in were covered with the leafless stems of climbing roses which were so thick that they were matted together. Mary Lennox knew they were roses because she had seen a great many roses in India. All the ground was covered with grass of a wintry brown and out of it grew clumps of bushes which were surely rosebushes if they were alive. There were numbers of standard roses which had so spread their branches that they were like little trees. There were other trees in the garden, and one of the things which made the place look strangest and loveliest was that climbing roses had run all over them and swung down long tendrils which made light swaying curtains, and here and there they had caught at each other or at a far-reaching branch and had crept from one tree to another and made lovely bridges of themselves. There were neither leaves nor roses on them now and Mary did not know whether they were dead or alive, but their thin gray or brown branches and sprays looked like a sort of hazy mantle spreading over everything, walls, and trees, and even brown grass, where they had fallen from their fastenings and run along the ground. It was this hazy tangle from tree to tree which made it all look so mysterious. Mary had thought it must be different from other gardens which had not been left all by themselves so long; and indeed it was different from any other place she had ever seen in her life.
There had once been a flowerbed in it, and she thought she saw something sticking out of the black earth- -some sharp little pale green points. She remembered what Ben Weatherstaff had said and she knelt down to look at them. "Yes, they are tiny growing things and they might be crocuses or snowdrops or daffodils," she whispered. She bent very close to them and sniffed the fresh scent of the damp earth. She liked it very much. "Perhaps there are some other ones coming up in other places," she said. "I will go all over the garden and look." She did not skip, but walked. She went slowly and kept her eyes on the ground. She looked in the old border beds and among the grass, and after she had gone round, trying to miss nothing, she had found ever so many more sharp, pale green points, and she had become quite excited again. "It isn't a quite dead garden," she cried out softly to herself. "Even if the roses are dead, there are other things alive." She did not know anything about gardening, but the grass seemed so thick in some of the places where the green points were pushing their way through that she thought they did not seem to have room enough to grow. She searched about until she found a rather sharp piece of wood and knelt down and dug and weeded out the weeds and grass until she made nice little clear places around them. "Now they look as if they could breathe," she said, after she had finished with the first ones. "I am going to do ever so many more. I'll do all I can see. If I haven't time today I can come tomorrow." She went from place to place, and dug and weeded, and enjoyed herself so immensely that she was led on from bed to bed and into the grass under the trees.
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This is the work for the original text. Please do not combine movies, adaptations, or other shortened editions to this work. Thanks!
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AR 6.3, Pts 13
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Amazon.com Amazon.com Review (ISBN 006440188X, Paperback)

Mistress Mary is quite contrary until she helps her garden grow. Along the way, she manages to cure her sickly cousin Colin, who is every bit as imperious as she. These two are sullen little peas in a pod, closed up in a gloomy old manor on the Yorkshire moors of England, until a locked-up garden captures their imaginations and puts the blush of a wild rose in their cheeks; "It was the sweetest, most mysterious-looking place any one could imagine. The high walls which shut it in were covered with the leafless stems of roses which were so thick, that they matted together.... 'No wonder it is still,' Mary whispered. 'I am the first person who has spoken here for ten years.'" As new life sprouts from the earth, Mary and Colin's sour natures begin to sweeten. For anyone who has ever felt afraid to live and love, The Secret Garden's portrayal of reawakening spirits will thrill and rejuvenate. Frances Hodgson Burnett creates characters so strong and distinct, young readers continue to identify with them even 85 years after they were conceived. (Ages 9 to 12)

(retrieved from Amazon Thu, 12 Mar 2015 18:22:40 -0400)

(see all 9 descriptions)

Ten-year-old Mary comes to live in a lonely house on the Yorkshire moors and discovers an invalid cousin and the mysteries of a locked garden.

(summary from another edition)

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Penguin Australia

5 editions of this book were published by Penguin Australia.

Editions: 0142437050, 0141321067, 0141336536, 0143106457, 0141331763

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2 editions of this book were published by Candlewick Press.

Editions: 0763631612, 0763647322

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Editions: 1909438545, 1909438553

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