Should you judge a book by its opening sentence?

Don’t judge a book by its cover, we’ve often heard.  But how about judging by its opening sentence? 

I’ve just looked at the opening sentences of dozens of classic children’s books from 1843 (The Ugly Duckling) to 1996 (the first Harry Potter book).  Some interesting facts emerge:

The briefest opening lines are six words, used in A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens (“Marley was dead, to begin with.”) and in Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie (“All children, except one, grow up.”)  Despite their brevity, I find both of these opening lines effective in piquing my curiosity.  Why was Marley dead, and so what?  What child didn’t grow up, and why?

The longest lines come from Treasure Island, 1883 (90 words).  Of the three other longest line opening sentences, two come from the 19th century—Alice in Wonderland, 57 words, and The Ugly Duckling, 56 words.  The other comes from J.D. Salinger’s 1951 classic The Catcher in the Rye, 63 words.  Of these four, only one’s opening sentence makes me curious, and that is because Salinger’s narrator’s attitude is so in-your-face that I want to find out why.

My take away?  Long isn’t necessarily better.

Other opening lines which captivated me include:

  • “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug. (Little Women)  Why won’t there be presents?  Who is Jo?  Who is she griping to?
  • Once upon a time, a little girl named Laura traveled in a covered wagon across the giant prairie. (Little House on the Prairie) Why was a child traveling across a prairie in a covered wagon?  Who did she travel with?  When?  This sound like an adventure.
  • “Where’s Papa going with that axe?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.” (Charlotte’s Web) Yes, where is the father going?  Why is he carrying an axe?  Is the family in danger?
  • When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. (To Kill a Mockingbird)  Why?  What happened?  A fight?  Sports?  Did he recover?
  • Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone)  This opening sentence is humorous.  Why were the couple proud to be normal?  “Thank you very much” sounds like someone is trying to say the Dursleys are not normal.  Why is the couple so defensive?

What surprises me after reading the opening sentences of dozens of classics of children’s lit is how few opening sentences grab me.  If you have studied writing, you know how important first lines are to attract readers.  Yet so many classics seem to make no effort to entice readers.

Does “We moved on the Tuesday before Labor Day” make you want to keep reading?  It is the first line of the classic, Are You There God?  It’s Me, Margaret.  The book is great, but the opening?  Eh.

Or how about “Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmond, and Lucy.”  This is the opening sentence of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. My response?  So what?

My take away:  Since some dull openings begin great books, keep reading not only a few more lines, but a few more pages.  Some books percolate slowly.

What's your thinking on this topic?