Kneeknock Rise
3.5/5
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About this ebook
From the moment young Egan arrives in Instep for the annual fair, he is entranced by the fable surrounding the misty peak of Kneeknock Rise: On stormy nights when the rain drives harsh and cold, an undiscovered creature raises its voice and moans. Nobody knows what it is—nobody has ever dared to try to find out and come back again. Before long, Egan is climbing the Rise to find an answer to the mystery.
Kneeknock Rise is a 1971 Newbery Honor Book.
Natalie Babbitt
Artist and writer Natalie Babbitt (1932–2016) is the award-winning author of the modern classic Tuck Everlasting and many other brilliantly original books for young people. As the mother of three small children, she began her career in 1966 by illustrating The Forty-Ninth Magician, written by her husband, Samuel Babbitt. She soon tried her own hand at writing, publishing two picture books in verse. Her first novel, The Search for Delicious, was published in 1969 and established her reputation for creating magical tales with profound meaning. Kneeknock Rise earned Babbitt a Newbery Honor in 1971, and she went on to write—and often illustrate—many more picture books, story collections, and novels. She also illustrated the five volumes in the Small Poems series by Valerie Worth. In 2002, Tuck Everlasting was adapted into a major motion picture, and in 2016 a musical version premiered on Broadway. Born and raised in Ohio, Natalie Babbitt lived her adult life in the Northeast.
Read more from Natalie Babbitt
The Search for Delicious Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Eyes of the Amaryllis Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Tuck Everlasting Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
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Reviews for Kneeknock Rise
83 ratings8 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Really cool book about myths and fables and the struggle between beliefs and facts.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Kneeknock Rise is more of a short-story fable than a YA novel. Egan visits relatives in a small town at an unspecified time in the past. Everyone in the town lives in terror... but a comfortable terror, of the Megrimom. A mysterious monster that they believe lives at the top of the mountain nearby and sets up a horrifying moaning whenever there is a storm. Everyone is so afraid, nobody has ever climbed to the top of the mountain. But at the same time, the tales of the Megrimom give the little town an identity. It makes them special.The book asks two pertinent questions that could spark endless discussion if well guided.Is it better to be happy and wrong, or unhappy and right?How hard is it to convince someone of the truth if the truth contradicts what they want to believe? (Boy is that a relevant question in 2018 America!)
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Egan travels to a nearby town to stay with his aunt and her family during the local annual fair. This fair isn't the usual thing, though - it's held in honor of and to celebrate the monster who lives on top of Kneeknock Rise.This is a fabulous story about the difference between fact and truth, about people's willingness to believe even when evidence to the contrary is right before them, and about the strange power of myth. I loved it, of course. Babbitt can weave a special kind of magic into her tales.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I read this to my two daughters as a bedtime book over the course of two weeks and we thoroughly enjoyed the curiosity of whether and what we up Kneeknock Rise. I recommend you enjoy this book with your elementary school children. Well-written so that you can pose the question: What do you think is going to happen next?
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I read Kneeknock Rise. Its about a boy who goes to a carnival, and whose cousin dares him to go up a rise, so he does. People believe there is an evil monster waiting up there to eat him alive.This book was okay, not great. This is partly because the main climax came towards end, so it was hard to be completely engaged in the beginning and for most of the book. When the climax did hit though, it was very engaging. I recommend this book to everyone who likes realistic fiction, and shorter (but not too short) books.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Summary: A young man by the name of Egan arrives in Instep for their annual fair to spend it with his aunt and uncle. Egan soon finds himself becoming engrossed with an old fable which speaks of a horrific monster known as the Megrimum. This monster is feared by all for the terror it brings with it and the horrible moans that come from its mouth. Egan soon decides to see this monster for himself, but what he finds is far from what he had expected.Personal Reaction: This was a nice read. A book that kept by interest with its senses of mystery inside its chapters. A good book to share with children on their way to becoming young adults.Classroom Extension Ideas:1. Sit everyone down and let them take turns telling of the myths and fables that they heard when they were younger.2. Let the children draw what they believe the Megrimum would look like if it were real.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Egan goes to visit relatives and attend a local festival, but when he arrives, he learns about a dangerous monster that lives on a nearby rise. Goaded on by his cousin, Egan decides to show his bravery by climbing the rise during a storm. He learns the truth about the monster and tries to share it with the villagers. All refuse to deny the veracity of the monster, clinging to the legend despite the evidence of several eyes. Newbery Honor.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Everyone else in the village is afraid of the creature who supposedly dwells at the top of Kneeknock Rise. A young boy named Egan sets out to prove that the strange sounds coming from the top of the Mammoth Mountains near his aunt and uncle's home have a reasonable explanation.
Book preview
Kneeknock Rise - Natalie Babbitt
This book is for Alice,
who spent the last days of a long
and happy life serving as a model,
in every particular, for Annabelle
Contents
Begin Reading
GO FISH: Questions for the Author
Facts are the barren branches
on which we hang the dear, obscuring
foliage of our dreams
The Mammoth Mountains were not really mountains at all. No glaciers creased their rocky, weed-strewn slopes, no eagles screamed above their modest summits. An hour or so would bring you to the top, puffing a little, perhaps, but not exhausted, and the view, once you were there, was hardly worth the climb. Nevertheless, the people who lived there were extremely proud of the mountains, for they were the only point of interest in a countryside that neither rolled nor dipped but lay as flat as if it had been knocked unconscious.
Because of this pride of the people’s, you were well advised, on passing through, to remember the famous and somewhat true story of an early visitor who rashly remarked that anyone who could call those molehills mountains had to be either a blindman or a fool. It was suggested to him that he was already a fool himself and in grave danger of becoming a blindman on the instant. So, we are told, he wisely thought better of it, looked again, and said, I see that I was mistaken. No mere mole could have made those mounds. They must have been the work of a mammoth!
The people were satisfied, the visitor escaped unharmed, and the mountains were christened.
However, the Mammoth Mountains had far more to offer than pride of ownership and rest for the eye that was weary of level plains. One of the mounds was different from its brothers, rockier, taller, and decidedly more cliff-like, with steeper sides and fewer softening trees, and its crest was forever shrouded in a little cloud of mist. Here lay the heart of the mountains’ charm; here, like Eve’s forbidden fruit, dwelt their mystery, for good or evil. For from somewhere in that mist, on stormy nights when the rain drove harsh and cold, an undiscovered creature would lift its voice and moan. It moaned like a lonely demon, like a mad, despairing animal, like a huge and anguished something chained forever to its own great tragic disappointments.
Nobody knew what it was that lived high up in the mist. As far back as memory could grope, no one had climbed the cliff to see. The creature had mourned there for a thousand years, in isolation so splendid, and with sorrows so infinitely greater than any of their own, that the people were struck with awe and respect. Therefore, climbing the cliff was something they simply did not do, and curious children were early and easily discouraged from trying by long and grisly tales which told what might well happen if they did.
From time to time, in the land below the cliff, strange things in fact did happen. A straying sheep would be found slaughtered, a pail of milk would sour, a chimney would unreasonably topple. These things were considered by some to be the work of the creature on the cliff, while others refused to believe that it ever left its misty nest. But they all had their favorite charms against it, and to all of them the cliff was the grandest, most terrible thing in the world. They trembled over it, whispered about it, and fed their hearts to bursting with gleeful terrors. It was frightful and fine and it belonged to them. They called it Kneeknock Rise.
At the foot of Kneeknock Rise, on its southern side, stood a village appropriately called Instep. Instep was closer to the Rise than any other village and was therefore exalted among villages, a sort of Mecca where you could go from time to time and renew yourself with reports of the latest storm, fatten your store of descriptions that strove endlessly to define once and for all the chilling sounds that wound down from the clifftop, and go home again to enjoy in your own village the celebrity you deserved—until someone else went off and returned with newer reports. Instep was famous in that flat and hungry land and the people who lived in Instep, made smug and rich by tourists and privilege, had fallen into the custom of flinging their gates wide, once a year, and inviting everyone for miles around to come to a Fair. The Fair was always held in the autumn, when storms were fierce and frequent, and was a gesture of generosity on the part of Instep whereby its inhabitants could say, Come and eat and dance; be entertained and spend your money; and—hear the Megrimum for yourselves.
For this was the name they had come to use when speaking of the mournful creature that lived at the top of Kneeknock Rise.
Now, don’t forget!
said Egan’s mother for the twentieth time. "When you get to Instep,