Many years ago a daughter who’d struggled to learn to read announced that she’d just finished a book so good I now had to read it for myself. Out of solidarity, I began. When I finished, some 350 pages later, I’d discovered an extraordinary new work of adolescent fiction.
Like John R. Tunis’s All-American, which I’d read at roughly the same age as my daughter and have touted ever since, Ender’s Game was both exciting and a moral education. It’s a science-fiction novel. It’s about a boy raised from the cradle to be a warrior, a lad whose innate military genius the government of the humans is counting on—after the proper molding—to repel the third invasion of the dreaded alien hordes, the buggers.