This is a very nice little book, filled with Faerie and language that is exceedingly ornate but never quite pretentious. And it’s a modern fairy tale at that - September, the protagonist, didn’t grow too close to my heart, but the narrator did, and that is good enough.
All children are Heartless. They have not grown a heart yet, which is why they can climb tall trees and say shocking things and leap so very high grown-up hearts flutter in terror. Hearts weigh quite a lot. That is why it takes so long to grow one.
When you are born, your courage is new and clean. You are brave enough for anything: crawling off of staircases, saying your first words without fearing that someone will think you are foolish, putting strange things in your mouth. But as you get older, your courage attracts gunk, and crusty things, and dirt, and fear, and knowing how bad things can get and what pain feels like. By the time you’re half-grown, your courage barely moves at all, it’s so grunged up with living. So every once in awhile, you have to scrub it up and get the works going, or else you’ll never be brave again.
Loose lips sink glorious new worlds.
She long ago learned that if she waited and blinked and behaved like a pupil, eventually someone would lecture her on something.