This was one of those rare books which instilled in me the gift of imagination, and taught me how to dream...



I believe it requires great skill to weave magic for generations, armed with nothing but a simple, heart touching plot and oodles of feel-good-factor! And Johanna Sypri is one such skilled author.

The story flows thus: Heidi, an orphaned little girl, goes to live in the Alps with her grandfather. She is the personification of innocence and gaiety. Living on goat milk, and grazing the herds with her friend Peter gives her life a sense of completion. However, tragedy soon falls when she is taken away to live in the city of Frankfurt and act as a companion to an older, richer invalid girl called Clara. Heidi loves Clara, but she is a bird which cannot be caged. She is the essence of the mountain air which flows through the valleys and touches all, but can not be tamed. Soon she grows tired of city live, and falls terribly sick...

Does Heidi get better? Does she manage to return to her grandfather, and the mountains? If so, what happens to Clara? Even now, if I chance upon the book, although I know the story over and out, I cant stop feeling anxious to read it till the end...

Johanna Spyri does not simply write the book, she paints scenes of sheer magnificence in each page...

n  Memoriesn

I had got this book as a gift from my father, and though second hand, it was a hardbound imported edition, and in wonderful condition(not the tattered and torn variety). I remember feeling ecstatic, because I had already fallen in love with the animated series which used to come on TV. It soon became my favourite book. I took it everywhere... to the dinner table, to sleep, to school, and even if I had two minutes of spare time, I used to turn the pages over, feeling warm inside. It was an inexplicable happiness... the pages were of a hard, stiff, and superior quality, but they were yellowing, as the edition was quite old... It used to exude such a wonderful smell... I guess all those who love books truly will know what I am talking about... It is the most intoxicating smell in the entire world... The smell of old volumes... And inside the pages, I had a world of my own...

I'm glad I have parents who are both voracious readers, so that i grew up treating books as my best friends... But I also needed books like these to make me fall in love with the art of story-telling!

Sada više nego ikad nam je potrebno da putujemo kroz knjige, a zaista nema lepšeg putovanja od Hajdinih Alpa❤️

ভীষণ প্রিয় বই।

¡Abuelito dime tú!

My two favorite aunts gave me Heidi when I was eight years old. I don't know if it was Christmas or birthday; all I know is I have them to thank not only for this but for Anne of Green Gables (and my very favorite stuffed bear Snowball), bless their names forever. As with Anne, I read Heidi over and over (and over), and followed up with some of the sequels from the library, and loved it dearly; unlike with Anne, though, I haven't read Heidi in many years. The Goodreads Kindred Spirits group chose it as their "Akin to Anne" group read for last June, and I fully intended to join in then, but in the end it took being faced on December 30 with a Challenge shortcoming of two books for me to pick up what surely had to be a quick read so as to meet my goal. (It worked.)

I was a little worried. Childhood memories are fragile. It doesn't take much to stain a current opinion, leaching backward to taint what was so beloved. But, I'm happy to say, Heidi came through it just about unscathed.

Peter didn't, but I'll come to that.

The story: Heidi is an orphan at six, and lives with her aunt until said aunt gets a job and decides that the girl's grandfather is just going to have to serve his time looking after the child, no matter how alarming his reputation is. Just about everyone Aunt Dete meets exclaims in horror at the idea of leaving the poor child with the old man, the Alm-Uncle; he hates everyone, and makes no secret of it. She's doomed. Dete is not an admirable character, but I will say for her that she is tough: she ploughs on despite the exclamations of horror and barely even gives the Alm-Uncle a chance to say no before she vanishes, leaving grandfather and granddaughter together.

And it's fine. It's better than fine. Heidi flourishes, with her grandfather providing quiet but loving support and the goats and Peter providing entertainment, and her own active nature keeping her constantly occupied. And Grandfather flourishes a bit himself, softening and expanding a bit. And when that aunt of hers pops up again a couple of years later and sweeps Heidi away with her again to dump her on a wealthy household that needs a companion for wheelchair-bound Klara, Heidi's small following on the mountain suffers her loss.

It was startling how much I remembered. I, who have trouble remembering details from a book I read last month, remembered the white rolls, and the kittens, and what happened to the wheelchair; I remembered the hayloft beds (maybe because I wanted one so badly when I was little) and the wonderful goats' milk and the other bed behind the stove. And it was all still very, very sweet.

Except for Peter. I was taken aback by what a nasty piece of work he had the potential to be. I remember loving Peter. Perhaps that was because of the other books, but here – here he is selfish and lazy and greedy, and a little stupid. He shakes his fists at the interloper on Heidi's time, and then there's the wheelchair incident; he did damage. He was a little scary. If he hadn't had the fear of capture put into him, and hadn't had the Alm-Uncle's influence curbing his behavior, it seems like he might have ended up a serious problem.

Heidi is a type of little heroine which I tend to doubt is written much anymore. Everything impacts her personally, from the grandmother's blindness to the tribulations of the goats. She's a simple, entirely selfless child with no desire to be anything else. She's not clever, per se; she can learn and learn quickly when she wants to, but she'd rather be out romping with the goats than reading. Which, now that I think of it, very likely has a good deal to do with her decline in Frankfort with Klara: she went from having hours of exercise in the fresh air, along with a simple diet (very simple – I was a little shocked at the amount of bread and butter and cheese and milk, and the paucity of meat and green vegetables) to almost no exercise and three meals a day of rich food (with more processed flour, at that). No wonder the child felt poorly. It wasn't just homesickness and worry over the elderly folk on the mountain.

The rest of the cast of characters were very satisfying. Peter's mother and grandmother were drawn as simple, grateful folk; I've been trying to remember what it was that I read in which the poor characters continually refused gifts, even of things they needed desperately, because they could not accept "charity"; Peter's family had no such compunctions, and the gifts they received did what they were supposed to do: they gave joy to the recipients and the givers. I loved the doctor and Klara's grandmother – they were beautifully drawn. I wanted to smack Klara's father a bit, or at least to find out what was so very important in his business life that he had to abandon his daughter to the servants and the aptly-named Frau Rottenmeier for months on end. The French maid was surprisingly bitchy (though I can't help but wonder if some of her comments weren't effectively translated; they were delivered as cutting remarks, but read like cryptic non sequiturs). The butler, Sebastian, was a love. And, last but not least, I enjoyed watching the grandfather show a bit more depth and three-dimensionality by the end of the book.

The affection I have for the book remains intact. I love it when that happens.

This was so precious! A little preachy and had some very traditional views in regards to disabilities and such, but the setting and atmosphere of the book reminded me a lot of Anne of Green Gables and made me so happy <3

This was one of my favorite books when I was little, I read it many times. I especially loved the part when Heidi was living with her grandfather in the mountains, probably because of the freedom and quietness of that life. I still feel happiest in nature, far away from crowds.

Reading a children’s classic as an adult can be a trip down memory lane, but it can also be something of a disappointment … well sort of. My recent reread of Heidi was a little of both. It was wonderful to revisit this old childhood favorite. It brought back many very happy memories and I did indeed experience something of that wonder of that first encounter all those years ago.

The book, Heidi, represents—for me—a place or anyway a sense of place. It is the Swiss Alps. It was my introduction to Switzerland and to all the beauty of mountains and dwelling on high. It was the first time a book reached out and physically put me somewhere else.

It was also my introduction to a strong female protagonist. I remember being so impressed by Heidi and so pleased by her every accomplishment. It was important to have a character who was good, positive, likable, able and willing to learn and a girl besides because usually it was the boys who got to do all the brave, fun and exciting deeds. Girls tended to sit at home, be in the background, somewhat negative or the love-interest at best. Stories about girls, where the girl actually did something, went someplace and even were the focus of the book—now here was something noteworthy. Although today there are many more books with such girl characters, when I was young, this was not the case. Heidi was therefore very important.

The memory of Heidi’s mountains stayed with me long after childhood. As an adult, Switzerland was the first place on my list of countries to visit when I was stationed overseas in the military. Later when my husband and I were returning to the United States we selected an oil painting of a quaint little Swiss cottage nestled at the base of some mountains to bring back with us which hangs in our living room today. It’s my dream place, my Heidi-home.

But can you return to your childhood? Well, I think this reunion could have been improved with a little girl to share it with. As it was, some parts of the book were so sweet and achingly familiar I knew what was coming next before even turning the page, which made me wonder if I’d actually read it that often or the book was that predictable. Not sure about that...? It's a simple story, but that isn't a criticism.

Other parts, the prayer aspect for instance, I do not remember at all. That message must have been absorbed with the goat’s milk. Reading the novel now as an adult, Johanna Spyri handled it extremely well. She teaches her (mostly) young readers that prayer makes a difference, is heard by a loving God, needs to be persistent and may be answered in ways different, even better than we imaged. These are positive lessons slipped in between the rest of the story. Given it's 1880 publication date this is in keeping with juvenile writing styles of the era.

So in conclusion, dear Heidi, while I've no idea how many times this read is, I hope and pray it isn’t the last! And also hope that next time, may there be a little girl (or two)—or even a little boy or two—on my lap or nearby to share this story with. Until then!

=======================================

I read Heidi as a very young girl and it so captured my imagination that I read it many more times. It caused me to fall in love with the mountains though I'm afraid of heights. It prompted my desire for travel and filled my head with dreams of faraway places. It motivated me to join the military, go to Europe, and travel to Switzerland, so I could see Heidi's Alps. While I was there I bought a picture with an Alpine cottage nestled in the base of some trees with the most gorgeous mountains in the background. So much in this story is meaningful for me, but guess I should finish rereading the book and then write my review.

Mostly during primary school my chosen prospective career was saint.

Ah, but then there was the period where I discovered Heidi and as I read and reread it a bunch of times, I most fervently wanted to become a goatherd, with all that this entailed. The bell. The sleeping snuggled into warm hay in the attic. The eating of too much cheese.

So taken was I with the idea of Switzerland that when we were asked, about grade 6, where we were going for the term holiday, I – who had never been on a holiday because we were way too poor – said Switzerland. I just might have gotten away with this but for the fact that my mother taught in the senior school. Since I had further elaborated when pressed, that we were going by boat – another fixation I had throughout childhood, seafaring – and the term holiday was a mere fortnight, news soon spread through the school that my mother was leaving her teaching job. In case you don’t get the plot so far, I was weaving this fantasy in Australia where I was born and raised.

Never mind the trouble I got into for this, it didn’t in the least affect my taste for anything Swittish.

Since then, as an adult I’ve been able to visit Switzerland five times, mostly Geneva. By no means goatherd territory, but still. You can see Geneva as a straightforwardly beautiful city. You can see it through Australian eyes as having that aesthetic qualities of age that our cities so lack, not to mention the mountain backdrop the like of which we would never see at home. Or you can see it, I discover, as a young child would whose dreams were always of other places. I confess as I’ve wandered about the city, staring at those snow-capped mountains, to feeling that I have come home in some way that I’m sure derives from the profound effect this utterly magical book had on me when I read it so long ago.

I don’t know if other people wonder if they have let down the small bundles of hopes and dreams they once were, but I do. It breaks my heart, the idea that I might have disappointed that little hopeful dreaming thing I was once, and I have found it a very emotional experience being in this dream I once went to sleep with every night. I really can’t remember, but I hope she – I – did always believe dreams come true. Yeah, well. Sometimes they do.

This book took me by surprise! I was not expecting to like it as much as I do. I've seen several movie adaptions and was never a fan of them - the story and characters always seemed a little droll. Not so in the book.

What got my attention first and captivated me even before the story did though, was Spyri's smooth narrative flow. It read like silk. She's a natural story-teller and her style alone is worth the read.

And the characters have more depth than the movies ever gave them credit for. Clara is not selfish and whiny as the cinema portrays her, and Peter has a likable charm that helps balance out his jealous flaw, which he learns from. Heidi and Grandfather are of course such inseparable dears and make your heart melt. But one character that seems to have been left out of the movies, or else made so slight that I have no recollection, is Clara's grandmother - and she's probably the winning star of them all.

Grandmamma is everything good and wonderful. She's incredibly wise and discerning too, and knows how to appropriately handle the children and their situations. She's the one that first teaches Heidi about God, and why you pray. When Heidi gets discouraged after receiving no answer to her prayer, it's Grandmamma that explains about God's character, faith, patience and hope.

The scenery and simple lifestyle in the Swedish Alps are magical, the story is delightful and the lessons and themes presented in the book are ideal for discussing with your family.

Age: 8 - 12
Reading Level: 3rd - 7th grades

#switzerland #europe

Cleanliness:

Children's Bad Words
Mild Obscenities & Substitutions - 3 Incidents: stupid
Name Calling - 3 Incidents: stupid, idiot, lazy rascal
Religious Profanities - 7 Incidents: Goodness knows, thank God, good gracious me, merciful heavens, goodness me, for goodness' sake

Religious & Supernatural - 1 Incidents: At one point in the story, everyone thinks the house may be haunted with a ghost as odd things happen at night. [Spoiler Alert: it is a little girl sleep-walking].

Romance Related - 2 Incidents: A little girl takes off her dress and wears only a petticoat. “Then she took off her pretty dress, and put the old red scarf on over her petticoat.”

Attitudes/Disobedience - 1 Incident: A boy gets upset and jealous. In a moment of anger, he sends a wheelchair down a mountain and it breaks. He repents later and learns from his actions.

Conversation Topics - 4 Incidents: It mentions that a man wanted “nothing but to ape the gentry … he got into bad company, and drank and gambled.” It mentions smoking a pipe, tobacco and drinking wine. A woman no longer wishes to care for a child and feels guilty about her actions. Later she lies about a situation in order to make money off of taking the child back. Grandfather says that “people there despise me and I them, so it’s better for us to keep apart.” This is in a discussion with a pastor who gives him good advice. Later Grandfather repents.

Parent Takeaway
The story is delightful and the lessons and themes presented about God and faith are ideal for discussing with your family.

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هــايدي ♥

يبدو أن قصص اطفال القرن التاسع عشر هي الافضل , و اظن انه من الظلم ان نصنفها ضمن قصص الاطفال , فهي تصلح لكل الاعمار وفيها من الدروس الانسانية البليغة .
حسنت مزاجي بل و أِشعرتني ببهجة في الوقت الذي لم تتمكن من ذلك ثلاث كتب اخرى .

" النجوم تلمع لانها تعيش فوق في السماء و سعيدة , ثم تومىء لنا لانها تريد لنا السعادة ايضاً . اتعلمين ؟ ان الله يصلح كل شسء بحيث لا يكون ثمة داع للقلق . فكل شيء سيكون على ما يرام في النهاية "