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Overview

The Powerful Newbery Award-Winning Classic


A landmark in children's literature, winner of the 1970 Newbery Medal, and the basis of an acclaimed film, Sounder traces the keen sorrow and the abiding faith of a poor African-American boy in the 19th-century South. The boy's father isa sharecropper, struggling to feed his family in hard times. Night after night, he and his great coon dog, Sounder, return to the cabin empty-handed. Then, one morning, almost like a miracle, a sweet-smelling ham is cooking in the family's kitchen. At last the family will have a good meal. But that night, an angry sheriff and his deputies come, and the boy's life will never be the same.

A landmark in children's literature, winner of the 1970 Newbery Medal and the basis of an acclaimed film, Sounder traces the keen sorrow and the abiding faith of a poor African-American boy in the 19th-century South.

Angry and humiliated when his sharecropper father is jailed for stealing food for his family, a young black boy grows in courage and understanding by learning to read and through his relationship with his devoted dog Sounder.

Editorial Reviews

Commonweal
The writing is simple, timeless and extraordinarily moving. An outstanding book.
New York Book Review
The author writes in details that glow alive.

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780064400206
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 4/28/1972
  • Edition description: Revised
  • Pages: 128
  • Sales rank: 58,571
  • Age range: 9 - 12 Years
  • Lexile: 0900L (what's this?)
  • Series: A Trophy Bk.
  • Product dimensions: 5.24 (w) x 7.38 (h) x 0.30 (d)

Meet the Author

William H. Armstrong grew up in Lexington, Virginia. He graduated from Hampden-Sydney College and did graduate work at the University of Virginia. He taught ancient history and study techniques at the Kent School for fifty-two years. Author of more than a dozen books for adults and children, he won the John Newbery Medal for Sounder in 1970 and was awarded an honorary Doctor of Letters degree from Hampden-Sydney College in 1986.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One


The tall man stood at the edge of the porcb. The roof sagged from the two rough posts which held it, almost closing the gap between his head and the rafters. The dim light from the cabin window cast long equal shadows from man and posts. A boy stood nearby shivering in the cold October wind. He ran his fingers back and forth over the broad crown of the head of a coon dog named Sounder.

"Where did you first get Sounder?" the boy asked.

"I never got him. He came to me along the road when he wasn't more'n a pup."

The father turned to the cabin door. It was ajar. Three small children, none as high as the level of the latch, were peering out into the dark. "We just want to pet Sounder,"the three all said at once.

"It's too cold. Shut the door."

"Sounder and me must be about the same age," the boy said, tugging gently at one of the coon dog's ears, and then the other. He felt the importance of the years-as a child measures age-which separated him from the younger children. He was old enough to stand out in the cold and run his fingers over Sounder's head.

No dim lights from other cabins punctuated the night. The white man who owned the vast endless fields had scattered the cabins of his Negro sharecroppers far apart, like flyspecks on a whitewashed ceiling. Sometimes on Sundays the boy walked with his parents to set awhile at one of the distant cabins. Sometimes they went to the meetin' house. And there was school too. But it was far away at the edge of town. Its term began after harvest and ended before planting time. Two successive Octobers the boy had started, walking the eight miles morning and eve-ning. But aftera few weeks when cold winds and winter sickness came, his mother had said, "Give it up, child.

It's too long and too cold."And the boy, remembering how he was always laughed at for getting to school so late, had agreed. Besides, he thought, next year he would be bigger and could walk faster and get to school before it started and wouldn't be laughed at. And when he wasn't dead tired from walking home from school, his father would let him hunt with Sounder. Having both school and Sounder would be mighty good, but if he couldn't have school, he could always have Sounder.

"There ain't no dog like Sounder," the boy said. But his father did not take up the conversation. The boy wished he would. His father stood silent and motionless. He was looking past the rim of half-light that came from the cabin window and pushed back the darkness in a circle that lost itself around the ends of the cabin. The man seemed to be listening. But no sounds came to the boy.

Sounder was well named. When he treed a coon or possum in a persimmon tree or on a wild grape vine, his voice would roll across the flatlands. It wavered through the foothills, louder than any other dog's in the whole countryside.

What the boy saw in Sounder would have been totally missed by an outsider. The dog was not much to look at -- a mixture of Georgia redbone hound and bulldog. His ears, nose, and color were those of a redbone. The great square jaws and head, his muscular neck and broad chest showed his bulldog blood. When a possum or coon was shaken from a tree, like a flash Sounder would clamp and set his jaw-vise just behind the animal's head. Then he would spread his front paws, lock his shoulder joints, and let the bulging neck muscles fly from left to right. And that was all. The limp body, with not a torn spot or a tooth puncture in the skin, would be laid at his master's feet. His master's calloused hand would rub the great neck, and he'd say "Good Sounder, good Sounder."In the winter when there were no crops and no pay, fifty cents for a possum and two dollars for a coonhide bought flour and overall jackets with blanket linings.

But there was no price that could be put on Sounder's voice. It came out of the great chest cavity and broad jaws as though it had bounced off the walls of a cave. It mellowed into half-echo before it touched the air. The mists of the flatlands strained out whatever coarseness was left over from his bulldog heritage, and only flutelike redbone mellowness came to the listener. But it was louder and clearer than any purebred redbone. The trail barks seemed to be spaced with the precision of a juggler. Each bark bounced from slope to slope in the foothills like a rubber ball. But it was not an ordinary bark.

It filled up the night and made music as though the branches of all the trees were being pulled across silver strings. while Sounder trailed the path the hunted had taken in search of food, the high excited voice was quiet. The warmer the trail grew, the longer the silences, for, by nature, the coon dog would try to surprise his quarry and catch him on the ground, if possible. But the great voice box of Sounder would have burst if he had tried to trail too long in silence. After a last, long-sustained stillness which allowed the great dog to close in on his quarry, the voice would burst forth so fast it overflowed itself and became a melody.

A stranger hearing Sounder's treed bark suddenly fill the night might have thought there were six dogs at the foot of one tree. But all over the countryside, neighbors, leaning against slanting porch posts or standing in open cabin doorways and listening, knew that it was Sounder.

"If the wind does not rise, I'll let you go hunting with me tonight." The father spoke quietly as he glanced down at boy and dog. "Animals don't like to move much when it's windy."

"Why?" the boy asked.

"There are too many noises, and they, can't hear a killer slipping up on them. So they stay in their dens, especially possums, because they can't smell much."

The father left the porch and went to the woodpile at the edge of the rim of light. The boy followed, and each gathered, a chunk-stick for the cabin stove. At the door, the father took down a lantern that hung on the wall beside a possum sack and shook it. "There's plenty of coal oil, "he said.

The boy closed the door quickly. He had heard leaves rattling across the frozen ground. He hoped his father didn't hear it. But he knew the door wouldn't shut it out. His father could sense the rising wind, and besides, it would shake the loose windowpanes.

Sounder. Copyright © by William Armstrong. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

First Chapter

Sounder

Chapter One


The tall man stood at the edge of the porcb. The roof sagged from the two rough posts which held it, almost closing the gap between his head and the rafters. The dim light from the cabin window cast long equal shadows from man and posts. A boy stood nearby shivering in the cold October wind. He ran his fingers back and forth over the broad crown of the head of a coon dog named Sounder.

"Where did you first get Sounder?" the boy asked.

"I never got him. He came to me along the road when he wasn't more'n a pup."

The father turned to the cabin door. It was ajar. Three small children, none as high as the level of the latch, were peering out into the dark. "We just want to pet Sounder,"the three all said at once.

"It's too cold. Shut the door."

"Sounder and me must be about the same age," the boy said, tugging gently at one of the coon dog's ears, and then the other. He felt the importance of the years-as a child measures age-which separated him from the younger children. He was old enough to stand out in the cold and run his fingers over Sounder's head.

No dim lights from other cabins punctuated the night. The white man who owned the vast endless fields had scattered the cabins of his Negro sharecroppers far apart, like flyspecks on a whitewashed ceiling. Sometimes on Sundays the boy walked with his parents to set awhile at one of the distant cabins. Sometimes they went to the meetin' house. And there was school too. But it was far away at the edge of town. Its term began after harvest and ended before planting time. Two successive Octobers the boy had started, walking the eight miles morning and eve-ning. But after a few weeks when cold winds and winter sickness came, his mother had said, "Give it up, child.

It's too long and too cold."And the boy, remembering how he was always laughed at for getting to school so late, had agreed. Besides, he thought, next year he would be bigger and could walk faster and get to school before it started and wouldn't be laughed at. And when he wasn't dead tired from walking home from school, his father would let him hunt with Sounder. Having both school and Sounder would be mighty good, but if he couldn't have school, he could always have Sounder.

"There ain't no dog like Sounder," the boy said. But his father did not take up the conversation. The boy wished he would. His father stood silent and motionless. He was looking past the rim of half-light that came from the cabin window and pushed back the darkness in a circle that lost itself around the ends of the cabin. The man seemed to be listening. But no sounds came to the boy.

Sounder was well named. When he treed a coon or possum in a persimmon tree or on a wild grape vine, his voice would roll across the flatlands. It wavered through the foothills, louder than any other dog's in the whole countryside.

What the boy saw in Sounder would have been totally missed by an outsider. The dog was not much to look at -- a mixture of Georgia redbone hound and bulldog. His ears, nose, and color were those of a redbone. The great square jaws and head, his muscular neck and broad chest showed his bulldog blood. When a possum or coon was shaken from a tree, like a flash Sounder would clamp and set his jaw-vise just behind the animal's head. Then he would spread his front paws, lock his shoulder joints, and let the bulging neck muscles fly from left to right. And that was all. The limp body, with not a torn spot or a tooth puncture in the skin, would be laid at his master's feet. His master's calloused hand would rub the great neck, and he'd say "Good Sounder, good Sounder."In the winter when there were no crops and no pay, fifty cents for a possum and two dollars for a coonhide bought flour and overall jackets with blanket linings.

But there was no price that could be put on Sounder's voice. It came out of the great chest cavity and broad jaws as though it had bounced off the walls of a cave. It mellowed into half-echo before it touched the air. The mists of the flatlands strained out whatever coarseness was left over from his bulldog heritage, and only flutelike redbone mellowness came to the listener. But it was louder and clearer than any purebred redbone. The trail barks seemed to be spaced with the precision of a juggler. Each bark bounced from slope to slope in the foothills like a rubber ball. But it was not an ordinary bark.

It filled up the night and made music as though the branches of all the trees were being pulled across silver strings. while Sounder trailed the path the hunted had taken in search of food, the high excited voice was quiet. The warmer the trail grew, the longer the silences, for, by nature, the coon dog would try to surprise his quarry and catch him on the ground, if possible. But the great voice box of Sounder would have burst if he had tried to trail too long in silence. After a last, long-sustained stillness which allowed the great dog to close in on his quarry, the voice would burst forth so fast it overflowed itself and became a melody.

A stranger hearing Sounder's treed bark suddenly fill the night might have thought there were six dogs at the foot of one tree. But all over the countryside, neighbors, leaning against slanting porch posts or standing in open cabin doorways and listening, knew that it was Sounder.

"If the wind does not rise, I'll let you go hunting with me tonight." The father spoke quietly as he glanced down at boy and dog. "Animals don't like to move much when it's windy."

"Why?" the boy asked.

"There are too many noises, and they, can't hear a killer slipping up on them. So they stay in their dens, especially possums, because they can't smell much."

The father left the porch and went to the woodpile at the edge of the rim of light. The boy followed, and each gathered, a chunk-stick for the cabin stove. At the door, the father took down a lantern that hung on the wall beside a possum sack and shook it. "There's plenty of coal oil, "he said.

The boy closed the door quickly. He had heard leaves rattling across the frozen ground. He hoped his father didn't hear it. But he knew the door wouldn't shut it out. His father could sense the rising wind, and besides, it would shake the loose windowpanes.

Sounder. Copyright © by William Armstrong. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 138 )

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(72)

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(25)

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(22)

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(10)

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(9)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 138 Customer Reviews
  • Posted September 13, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Sounder was an okay book.

    It was a great educational book, i read it last year in english class. It wouldn't really be a book I would choose for free reading, although I love how none of the people in the family have names. They represent all African Americans of the post slave period, and now. And it was great that a black man wrote the book because somehow, I feel that if a white person had wrote this book, we would not have the full perspective of the feelings a black boy in that period of time. I also love how the boy tries so hard to go to school and always persues his father when he was taken by the police. I feel it was more realistic because when the sherrif came to the cabin, a white man would have just gotten a warning, but the father of the boy's family was taken away, just for stealing a ham. Over all a good read, interesting and historical. It really shows the tough times that they had to suffer through.

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 12, 2009

    The Pig That Started It All

    Sounder was an excellent book, and I thought it was one of the best books I have ever read. This book was both exciting and sorrowful. The book earns one, no two thumbs up. The way the author explains the boy's feelings throughout the book was awesome.

    The book was about a boy and his family, (who remain nameless). The family also has a dog named Sounder, who has the loudest and deepest bark then all the other dogs. One night the boy's father goes out and steals a pig. The next day the have a giant feast. Then three white men come and arrest the boy's father. While they are taking him away, Sounder got lose and tried to jump on the wagon where his master was, but gets shot in the proses. He didn't die, but he was badly injured. Sounder disappears for a while, but when he finally does come back, he had half a shoulder, one of his eyes missing, and he couldn't bark. For years, the boy goes looking for his father, but can never find him. One day, while walking home, the boy finds a book in the trash, and tries to read it, but can't. He meets a school teacher, and takes him home and shows the boy his favorite book in the book the boy had found. When the boy gets home he tells his mother everything. The next day, the boy's father comes home and tells the family that he was hurt in a dynamite explosion. All in all, the ending of the book is very shocking and unexpected.

    This book was really good. I loved it so much, that I read a couple chapters twice. The only thing I didn't like, was that everyone was nameless throughout the entire book. I sometimes forgot who was speaking. but, still this book was great. i highly recommend this book to readers who love reading about events from long ago.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 4, 2009

    sounder

    moving...son loved it

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 7, 2009

    Really good book

    The book was a page turner. It had a lot of detail which kept you wondering what was going to happen next. I think that the order the events were in had some to do with it. I think everyone would enjoy reading this book because it is full of suspense and it can teach you a life lesson. That depends on how much you get into the story.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 22, 2008

    ehhhh.. idk?

    I have to read this book for 7th grade so far i think its pretty boring so i really do not recommend it

    1 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 28, 2008

    I have to read this.........

    I have to read sounder this summer for seventh grade....I hope it doenst bore me to much...

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 28, 2008

    It was Okay....

    I wouldn't want to read this book again. the first 4 chapters were very boring. i would not recomend this book to any one.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 8, 2007

    Terrible

    I had this book on my book shelf, so I figured I would read it. That was a mistake. I usually like books with dogs in it, but this one was not good at all. I feel that the point of view was bad, seeing how we never learn the characters names.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 16, 2007

    Poor hound

    I do not believe the author ever owned a hound. This was not a very satisfactory story. Great opportunity lost.....

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 16, 2012

    I read the book in school.I love the brave Sounder.Read SOUNDER.

    I read the book in school.I love the brave Sounder.Read SOUNDER.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 25, 2012

    Book

    This is a great book for some ages

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 11, 2012

    I Love Sounder

    The book Sounder took me back in time. It showed me how life was back then from an African American slave's point of view. Sounder is a book full of exitment, but with some sadness to make he story more realistic and to show you how hard life was fr African American slaves.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 26, 2012

    Class

    I have to us thhis book for a book project

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 10, 2012

    Love this book

    I think this book is a really good book because it has very exciting moments in it. It also is a page turner book where you can't stop reading. I just finished the book in two hours and i couldn't stop reading

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 6, 2012

    O Sounder

    It was ok

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 3, 2012

    Awsome

    My teacher loves this book read it I loved it to

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 30, 2011

    Old book but still ok (summer school book dumb mrs bishop)

    I read this book in summee school and watched the movie i swear u will luv this

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 28, 2011

    Interesting.....

    I have been reading this book and it sounds
    Like a very unique book. You might have trouble
    on keeping track of what is happening, but besides this,
    It's an awsome book! :)

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 27, 2011

    Ok

    The book left me confused about a lot of things and to me it was very crewl and sad. This wasn'one o my favorit books but it was decent

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  • Posted October 12, 2011

    Sounder

    Sounder is an ok book. But I had a hard time following along with whom was who. There were not really any names other than Sounder, Momma, Paw and the boy. The family lived in a share cropping house and they didn't have a lot of money. The family has to sell crunched up nuts for money. The main conflict is when Paw steels a ham to put food on the table for his family. When the sheriff comes he takes Paw, but Sounder has other plans, as he pounced after the wagon he got shot with a shot gun. The boy ran out to look to see the damage he found a piece of sounders ear on the road. When he went home he put the ear under his pillow and went under the porch to look for sounder. The boy's maw makes a cake for his paw. Before he leaves the mom tell him over and over again not to grieve him. When the boy takes the cake to town he is excited that someone will ask him if he wants to learn how to read. When the boys walks into the door of the jail a mean man with a red face yells at him at breaks the cake because he says that something might be hidden in it. The boy comes home and knows that he grieved his father and his mother doesn't even ask he just say you grieved him didn't you. The boys finds out that his father is going to work to get out of prison. The boy goes to look for him and he someone asks him if he wants to learn to read and the guys teaches him to read. When the boy goes home he has a surprise.

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