I know there are people that simply love this series, but I've yet to manage anything more than basic liking. It baffles me, mostly. There's a lot of it I do like - and I liked this better than Wrinkle in Time, if only because less of it is this strange semi-religious view of the universe. Basically, as in the previous volume: I like the characters. By which I mean the human characters. The determined mysticism that wafts around all the non-human characters leaves me absolutely cold, though. And when that mysticism touches the human characters, I kind of stop caring about them too. Let me give an example: I felt much, much more for Meg when she went to see Mr. Jenkins to try and stop her little brother being bullied than I did when she was in screaming agony from the creatures that wanted to X her. That... doesn't do much for suspension of disbelief.

I do see what L'Engle is trying to do, and I'm going to keep reading the series regardless, but if a children's fantasy series is going to play with spirituality and the structure of the universe, then the approach that Philip Pullman takes, in his Dark Materials universe for example, is one that really speaks to me. This doesn't. And that's alright, because different approaches appeal to different people... and L'Engle's approach, I can't help it, reminds me of crop circles and crystals and all things woo. Meg's parents can be as super-sciency as can be, but when their daughter is dancing circles within the mitochondria of cells as they sing to the universe, while mentally communicating with an invisible dragon who is really a cherubim, well. This is the type of thing little Fox Mulder ate up with a spoon, I bet.