Wrinkles in Time: A Personal Tribute to Madeleine L'Engle

by Jana Riess, Religion BookLine -- Publishers Weekly, 9/19/2007

Now that I've been an editor at PW for eight years, authors don't usually impress me anymore. Many, many books cross my desk, and most are quickly forgotten. But there is still magic in my world, animated by those uniquely special books that grab hold of my imagination and change me forever. 

My first such magical book was A Wrinkle in Time. I don't remember how old I was when I read it, but I certainly remember when and where: it was Christmas Day, and I was ensconced on the dog-haired sofa in our family's living room--all day. I read the book cover to cover and ignored every other gift I'd gotten. 

This began my love affair with the books of Madeleine L'Engle—books I saved my hard-earned allowance for, devoured quickly, then returned to, savoring them again and again.   When I was applying to colleges, my Wellesley application asked me to write about any individual—past or present, real or fictitious—I would most want to learn from as an apprentice, and to explain why. I chose Madeleine L'Engle, not because I wanted to be a writer—I had no literary ambitions and (incredibly, now) aspired to practice international law—but because I wanted to be her. Her books had stretched my imagination, and while I didn't know it at the time, they formed the core of my fledgling Christian beliefs. 

Fast forward a few years. I was flipping burgers in my job at the Wellesley student center when a friend told me our graduating class had chosen Madeleine L'Engle as commencement speaker. With the brazenness that can only be mustered at 21, I sat down in my dorm room that night and wrote her a letter, inviting her to dinner. I was shocked when I got a call a week later from the author's secretary, accepting the invitation. (I later found out that Madeleine declined an invitation to dine with the president of the college because she would not break her commitment to me and my friends.) And could my friends and I possibly pick Madeleine up at the airport? Of course we could. 

The day before graduation we fought the traffic to fetch Madeleine from Logan Airport and bring her to her book signing 15 minutes late. We peppered her with questions at dinner, passing succulent Chinese dishes. Madeleine was warm, gracious and opinionated, just like her books. She appeared as interested in us as we were in her. 

Many years later, having abandoned all thoughts of a career in law, I was in New York for another graduation of sorts. It was the day I defended my dissertation. Afterwards my committee members took me out to dinner at a lovely little café in the Upper West Side. Who should be there but Madeleine L'Engle? She was older, yes, and in a wheelchair, but I recognized her immediately and went over to speak with her. She remembered our Wellesley evening and congratulated me for having successfully completed my Ph.D. It felt like remarkable serendipity—providence, even—that she should appear at this second kind of graduation, offering a benediction on the completion of my long education.

Madeleine L'Engle passed away on September 6, and while I was not surprised—I had heard rumors of her failing health—the death held an unexpected finality. There will be no more L'Engle books to look forward to—that canon is closed. Her passing prompted me to take stock of my life, and I have to confess I'm humbled and delighted by what I see. I now have much of that world I longed for when I was a child reading her books: a life rich in family and faith, great books and kind friends. I've been privileged to lead a life blessed by a limitless imagination and a love of language. 

Thank you, Madeleine L'Engle, for opening my world. May you tesser well.