I wrote: “In Wisconsin 100 years ago, a closer link between humans and nature meant that it was easier for Rascal to stay true to his wild nature, so that by the time he is set free at the book’s end, both he and North have grown into themselves.” The law of unintended consequencesĪ review I originally wrote for this book, for another website, tried to be nice. His maturation comes only at Rascal’s expense, though, and that’s where I have trouble with the story. By the end of the book ( spoilers!) North - bereft throughout the story at the departure of his older brother for the front lines of WWI - has come to realize that some things you love, you have to let go.

North’s solutions - a leather collar and leash, a cage - are only temporary, as he comes to realize a wild heart was never meant for constraints.

Some adults help others threaten harm, not to be mean, but because an uncaged raccoon threatens the crops and livestock they depend on for food and livelihoods, at a time when Americans lived much more closely to the land than they do now. The book also nicely juxtaposes North’s relationships with his pet and with the adults around him. He observes a mother duck protect her young from his raccoon he appreciates a concert of whippoorwills’ song. North describes his own relationship to his surroundings, in particular a nearby lake, in loving detail, mirroring the times I’ve had the opportunity to explore creeks or swamps from my sons’ points of view (while grateful for their ability to do so). There’s also a lot to be learned about how to have a relationship to the natural world. The book accurately captures the intelligence, mischief, and alacrity that all young raccoons have, and in that, there’s a lot of humor. Reasons to read Rascalįirst let me say that as a writer, I adored the way the story unfolded and the attention to detail in North’s word choices and structure. Failing to capture her, however, he and his friend decide to kidnap Rascal as a “prize” for trying - the first in a series of wrongheaded decisions.

Its bittersweetness is evident in its very first scene, showing the extent of humankind’s “dominion” over the natural world when young North rightly recognizes that the litter of babies is too young to be without their mother.

Rascal is the memoir of North’s experience as a young boy who, in the spring and summer of 1918, “adopted” and raised a baby raccoon. It’s a beautifully written story, in fact, but that’s part of the problem: it does a great job of delivering a terrible message. Not because it’s bad it isn’t, by any stretch. Rascal: A Memoir of a Better Era, a Newbury Honoree book, is a tough book to review.

Rascal north