The White Feather

Sheen is the kind of boy who prefers his books to the rugby field, who shrinks from the rough and tumble of Wrykyn School's brutal hierarchies. When a street brawl erupts between the school's boys and a gang of local toughs, he does what comes naturally: he slips away. But someone notices. The white feather of cowardice is pinned to his name, and suddenly the entire school treats him as if he has plague. Wodehouse, still years away from his comic masterpieces, writes with sharp tenderness about the particular anguish of adolescent shame. Sheen trains in secret under legendary boxer Joe Bevan, driving himself through punishing rounds in a boxing ring, not for glory but for the simple desire to be able to look his classmates in the eye. The White Feather is a surprisingly moving portrait of one boy's fight not just for physical redemption, but for the right to exist among his peers without shame. It endures because we have all, at some age, felt the cold shoulder of those we wanted to belong to, and dreamed of a way back.