Getting Your Hands on My Side of the Mountain
Most people looking for this book are teachers or parents trying to find a copy for a kid who's been assigned it, or maybe someone who heard about it and wants to read it themselves. The thing is, Jean Craighead George My Side Of The Mountain has been in print for over sixty years, so it shows up everywhere. But if you are digging through used bookshops or trying to find a specific edition, there are a few things that actually matter. I spent years buying these out of curiosity, and I learned pretty quickly that the 1959 first edition is not worth hunting down unless you have a serious budget. The trade paperbacks from the seventies and eighties are the sweet spot. They are cheap, they have decent paper quality, and the illustrations by Uri Shulevitz are still intact. I found a 1974 Bantam edition once at a thrift store for forty cents, and the binding was still solid. That is the one I still keep on my shelf.
Where Jean Craighead George My Side Of The Mountain actually shows up
Amazon and Barnes & Noble will always have it in stock, which sounds convenient until you realize they are mostly selling the Penguin Youth edition with the plain cover. It is fine for reading, but if you want the original Shulevitz artwork that is part of what makes this book distinctive, look for Bantam or Scribner editions from the eighties. The 1980 Scribner paperback is the one most collectors want, and you can usually find it for under ten dollars on AbeBooks or BookFinder. Public libraries are still the best route if you do not want to buy anything. I live in a town where the children's section rotates through this every spring, and it always has a line. The wait is about three weeks. If you need it sooner, call ahead and ask when their next copy comes in. Some libraries order new stock quarterly, and knowing the schedule saves you a phone call or two. There is also the matter of the audiobook version, which a lot of people overlook. The Recorded Books narration from 2005 is competent, though the actor flattens out some of Sam's internal monologue. If you prefer listening, it is available through your library's digital service or Audible, but the physical book is still better for the survival details. You slow down and re-read sections about building shelters or tracking animals, which you cannot really do with an audiobook.
What actually happens in the book
Sam Gribley runs away to the Catskills because his family cannot afford to keep him and his siblings on the farm they barely survive. He takes a knife, a gun, and three pounds of potatoes, and he builds himself a treehouse forty feet up a sycamore. The book tracks his first year alone, focusing on practical survival rather than adventure thrills. He learns to track, to trap, to read weather signs, and to navigate without getting lost. The thing that catches most readers off guard is how quiet it is. There is no monster, no villain, no dramatic rescue. The conflict is entirely external and internal, and George writes it plainly. Sam talks to a falcon named Frightful, but the relationship is more companionship than anthropomorphism. The falcon is a real bird with real instincts, and that realism grounds the whole narrative. One detail that people miss is the botanical accuracy. George spent years studying the Catskill ecosystem before writing this, and the plant identifications hold up. She names specific species of mushrooms, berries, and medicinal herbs, and many of them are accurate to the region. If you are using this as a teaching tool, cross-reference her plant names with a local field guide, because some common names shifted over the decades.
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Teaching or reading this with kids
Teachers use this book constantly in middle school curricula, usually around sixth or seventh grade. The survival content aligns well with science standards about ecosystems and adaptation, and the vocabulary sits in that upper-range territory that pushes students without overwhelming them. The chapters are short, which helps with attention spans, though the pacing drags slightly in the middle months of the year. I ran into a problem a few years ago when a student asked me why Sam did not just build a ground-level shelter instead of climbing a tree. The answer is practical: bears and mountain lions. But the kid kept pressing, and I had to admit that while Sam mentions predators, the book never fully explains why the elevation mattered until chapter four. If you are teaching this, supplement with a brief discussion of Catskill wildlife before starting, or those questions will pile up. Another edge case is the gun. Sam carries a revolver, and George treats it matter-of-factly. Some schools have pulled the book over this, though most keep it with parental permission slips. If you are unsure about your district, check with your department head before assigning it. The gun appears in maybe four scenes total, and it is never glorified, but the presence alone can trigger complaints.
Why this book endures
The originality is probably the main reason. Published in 1959, it was one of the first middle-grade novels to treat survival as a legitimate subject rather than a comic escape hatch. Before this, boy-in-the-wilderness stories were either adventure picaresques or cautionary tales. George wrote something quieter, more observational, and honestly difficult. Sam gets sick, he goes hungry, he makes mistakes, and he keeps going. The book won the Newbery Honor in 1960, which cemented its place in school libraries. The sequels exist but are generally considered inferior, so if a reader finishes this and wants more, there is not much equivalent. There are modern survival memoirs for older audiences, but nothing in the middle-grade space that matches the tone. If you are looking for the actual text to quote or reference, the standard citation is: George, Jean Craighead. My Side of the Mountain. New York: E.P. Dutton, 1959. The ISBN for the current Penguin Youth edition is 978-0142402273, though that edition has lost the original illustrations. For the complete experience, stick with the vintage paperbacks.
I have read this at least a dozen times over twenty years, and I still notice small details I missed before. The water cycle Sam builds, the way he seasons his food, the specific knot he uses to lash his treehouse platform. These are the parts that make the book work, and they only show up if you pay attention to the mechanics rather than just the plot.
