A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

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Gender Female
Points 890
Reviews 253
This book was so good! It's about a young girl Francie, living in the early 20th, late 19th century. Her apartment is in the poor section of a big city and it follows her life. It's really interesting to think about how it's written, the author uses 50 pages to discribe a single saturday, without one word being one too many.
I wouldn't advise it until you're 13 (which most everyone on here is ) because I read it when I was 11 and it was a little bit too "adult".




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Gender Male
Points 1108
Reviews 404
FINALLY! SOMEONE WHO SHARES MY LOVE!

I actually remember the date which I started reading it--February 3rd of 2007, just last year. I was 13. It was amazing. It's not really a "girl" book though, which everyone seems to think.

It was not really, well, extravagant, if you know what I mean, but it was graceful and festoones in some way. It was really moving too. She was a genius. It's one of my favorite books of all time.

I love this book so much. So good. And you really feel sorry for Francie, too. I can't really recall too much from the book, but I remember I enjoyed it immensely. I must reread it this year. Just must.
my world isn't only beautiful
it is so far away




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 890
Reviews 75
As usual, one of my mislead parents bought this book for me WAY (why can't I use italics here?) to early, but at least a teacher thoughtfull tore out *gasp* the worst parts and paperclipped them in the back to preserve whatever innocence I had left. Wait, I had innocence? Are you sure?

This book is just so touching, so complete. I wished for a sequel, but I know if there was one it'd never capture the strange, sorrowful beauty of the impovershed in NY, in Brooklyn. Recently, in the hospital, I stayed up all night rereading it, which of course majorly ticked off the doctors, but it was definitly no waste of time. Ever since, I've been looking for that tree, you know. Tell me if you find it.
me: why can we kill for Jesus and not Muhammed?
my best friend: because Jesus is white.
me: that's not fair!
her: and what is?



I would rather die of passion than of boredom.
— Émile Zola