Oh God. Just thinking about this book makes me want to cry. I am sure that you all know the story of how impoverished Charlie Bucket inherits the most famous chocolate factory in the world so I won’t bore you with a summery I will just tell you why I well up thinking about it.
Charlie is a good boy, he’s selfless, kind and grateful in spite of the fact that he and his family are horrifically impoverished and he has every right to be angry and bitter. That’s tragic enough as it is, a little boy still manages to find some good in a cruel unfair world. But then against all the odds and after having his hopes dashed 3 times, he get’s to fulfil his dream and go to the chocolate factory *sniffs*. If it ended here it would still be a fabulous story. But no, it gets even more moving because the person who gets the factory isn’t the greedy, indulged Augustus Gloop, it isn’t rich, spoilt, ungrateful Veruca Salt, or arrogant, self important Violet Beauregarde, nor ignorant, snide Mike Teevee, it’s humble little Charlie Bucket.
I can’t. Its too sad. There is justice in the world.
Would recommend to: naughty children to teach them a lesson.