Michael Ende, The Neverending Story, translated by Ralph Mannheim, (London: Penguin), 1997.

It isn't uncommon for me to discover a book from reading another one. I have enjoyed the photographs and books of Michio Hoshino because I discovered him from Kim Heacock's book. Somewhere I read that Michio said that his favorite book was Ende's The Neverending Story and decided that I ought to read the book. It is an engaging tale, suitable for read aloud or for a young reader ready to tackle a longer chapter book. It is also a good tale to stir the imaginations of adults. I can understand why an artist like Hoshino would recognize the art of a master of language and story.

In a sense we all write our own stories, or more accurately live the stories of our lives and the tale of Bastian Balthazar Bux's encounter with a strange book challenges the boundary between reality and fantasy. Of course one has to be able to suspend disbelief and allow the story to take over, but that is true of many fantasy tales.

I'm not sure that the story reveals any deep philosophical meanings, but it is a fun tale and a worthy read for a day of recreation.