Michael Ende (1929–1995)

This is a special book. Momo is an orphan living in an ancient, abandoned amphitheatre. She has one special power. It's nothing you'd expect of a superhero, but in this story it makes all the difference. There is a strong dividing line between stories with events tossed in just to propel it forward, and stories built like carefully constructed edifices or arguments with nothing extraneous and an important meaning behind everything that occurs. This has the feeling of the latter. Even as Momo show more and her friends are engaged in the imaginative voyage of the Ajax, an entire chapter of make-believe, I did not doubt that Michael Ende included even that scene with a distinct purpose in mind. Comparisons with 'The Neverending Story' are inevitable. This is not as complex as the other but maybe just as challenging, and lessons abound.

Michael Ende is fearlessly subtle. He can say the deepest things in the simplest words, and not worry overmuch whether you're grasping their meaning. With lines like, "There are treasures capable of destroying those who have no one to share them with" scattered within a straightforward story for children, an adult also has something to chew on. It is a story at least partially about the importance of taking the time - stealing time, we sometimes say - to appreciate one another in a world that is always madly rushing forward. The grey men may not be real to us in a literal sense, but in the form of time-consuming, time-wasting things we do that make us wonder why there aren't enough hours in a day. The trick is not to confuse time-wasting with enjoyable time well spent. Like when someone my age sets aside studying the French Revolution to spend a few minutes with this. show less

Beautiful. Underneath the fantasy is a serious question: what happens to a people who lose the capacity for imagination, memory, and self-judgment? Germany in the 1930s and 40s, where Ende grew up, offers one answer. The book is clearly shaped by his experience of Nazism and its aftermath. This is not a hero’s journey. It is a warning about power gained at the cost of memory, and about how easily myths can be used to manipulate people. It feels disturbingly timely. One of the rare fantasy show more novels that feels wiser the older you are, filled with images that will remain with me forever. show less

Re-Read, 4/10/20:

After yet another re-read, I've come to a simple conclusion: I decided to write fiction because I loved this story so much. I figured it out as a kid when I saw this movie for the first time.

So, why is that?

Because every work of fiction is a collaboration between the writer and the reader. In this case, it's between a reader and the written word and the actual reader of both... and the uber-reader, all of whom include each one of us, create this world anew.

We are the show more Neverending Story.


So what does this mean when it comes to the second half of the tale, where wishes remove memories? Is it a magic-consequence rule? Or is it just another metaphor for growing old, forgetting about our youth and creativity?

I tend to think it is the hard-rule of death. Generations pass and stories pass out of memory. Sometimes they don't, but most of the time, they do.

And this is why it's all the more important to keep the dream alive. Keep the STORIES alive.



Original Review:

Like many people of my generation, I loved the film adaptation (the first, not the second, thank you) and never realized that it had come from a book until a number of years later. In fact, I read it the first time in '07 and not only was I delighted at how imaginative it was, but I was also flabbergasted (joyfully so) that it lived up to its name.

It's quick reading by any standard, but so deliciously dense in imagery, mythology, and an engrossing plot that I swore that if I had any children, this would be a staple of their diet.

Now that I have a little girl, I'm just too anxious to start reading it to her. I really can't sit still. I keep picking up the book and going, "Is she old enough, yet? Is she? Is she?" Then I set down the book and tear out my metaphorical hair and let out a forlorn cry. Then I get a fantastic idea:

I could just read it again, for myself!

Then everything is right with the world again and I'm able to write a new review.

This is easily one of my favorite tales, ever.

An extra goodie: April had a great review that forced me to think and respond in (I hope) a comprehensible way. Check it out. April's Review show less

Some books that you read as a child make a lasting impression. You never forget them. However, it is not always a good idea to reread them as an adult. Times change, you've grown up, you've read so many more books that you've become a more critical reader. You remember a book as absolutely scaring or sad, but when you read it again, the magic is gone.

Momo, however, is a book does stand the test of time. On a superficial level it is an adventure of a little girl fighting an army of scary grey show more men, who steal time. But on a deeper level, it is an ode to the imagination, an ode to friendship and an ode to the beauty of life. It was lovely to read this again, I loved the chapter about the children's fantasies, because it made me remember what it was like to be a child. The book also made me think about my present busy live, the way the hours disappear and how all this adult business gets me so hurried up that I sometimes forget about the truer, and more important things in life. show less