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Inspiration for the 2024 Tony Award Winner for Best Musical!

Over 50 years of an iconic classic! The international bestseller-- a heroic story of friendship and belonging.

No one ever said life was easy. But Ponyboy is pretty sure that he's got things figured out. He knows that he can count on his brothers, Darry and Sodapop. And he knows that he can count on his friends—true friends who would do anything for him, like Johnny and Two-Bit. But not on much else besides trouble with the Socs, a vicious gang of rich kids whose idea of a good time is beating up on “greasers” like Ponyboy. At least he knows what to expect—until the night someone takes things too far.

The Outsiders is a dramatic and enduring work of fiction that laid the groundwork for the YA genre. S. E. Hinton's classic story of a boy who finds himself on the outskirts of regular society remains as powerful today as it was the day it was first published. "The Outsiders transformed young-adult fiction from a genre mostly about prom queens, football players and high school crushes to one that portrayed a darker, truer world." —The New York Times
"Taut with tension, filled with drama." —The Chicago Tribune

"[A] classic coming-of-age book." —Philadelphia Daily News

A New York Herald Tribune Best Teenage Book
A Chicago Tribune Book World Spring Book Festival Honor Book
An ALA Best Book for Young Adults
Winner of the Massachusetts Children's Book Award

Review

Praise for The Outsiders

"The Outsiders transformed young-adult fiction from a genre mostly about prom queens, football players and high school crushes to one that portrayed a darker, truer world." —The New York Times

"Taut with tension, filled with drama." —The Chicago Tribune

"[A] classic coming-of-age book." —Philadelphia Daily News

"What it's like to live lonely and unwanted and cornered by circumstance...There is rawness and violence here, but honest hope, too." —National Observer

"This remarkable novel gives a moving, credible view of the outsiders from the inside...we meet powerful characters in a book with a powerful message." —The Horn Book

A New York Herald Tribune Best Teenage Book
A Chicago Tribune Book World Spring Book Festival Honor Book
An ALA Best Book for Young Adults
Winner of the Massachusetts Children's Book Award

About the Author

S. E. Hinton is the author of a number of bestselling and beloved books for young adults, including THAT WAS THEN, THIS IS NOW; RUMBLE FISH, TEX, and of course, THE OUTSIDERS, which was written when she was just 16 years old. She has also written several picture books, a collection of short stories, and a novel for adults. She lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma—the setting of THE OUTSIDERS—with her husband. When she is not writing, she enjoys riding horses.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

WHEN I STEPPED out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman—he looks tough and I don’t—but I guess my own looks aren’t so bad. I have light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-gray eyes. I wish they were more gray, because I hate most guys that have green eyes, but I have to be content with what I have. My hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in back and long at the front and sides, but I am a greaser and most of my neighborhood rarely bothers to get a haircut. Besides, I look better with long hair.

I had a long walk home and no company, but I usually lone it anyway, for no reason except that I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get into them and live them with the actors. When I see a movie with someone it’s kind of uncomfortable, like having someone read your book over your shoulder. I’m different that way. I mean, my second-oldest brother, Soda, who is sixteen-going-on-seventeen, never cracks a book at all, and my oldest brother, Darrel, who we call Darry, works too long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture, so I’m not like them. And nobody in our gang digs movies and books the way I do. For a while there, I thought I was the only person in the world that did. So I loned it.

Soda tries to understand, at least, which is more than Darry does. But then, Soda is different from anybody; he understands everything, almost. Like he’s never hollering at me all the time the way Darry is, or treating me as if I was six instead of fourteen. I love Soda more than I’ve ever loved anyone, even Mom and Dad. He’s always happy-go-lucky and grinning, while Darry’s hard and firm and rarely grins at all. But then, Darry’s gone through a lot in his twenty years, grown up too fast. Sodapop’ll never grow up at all. I don’t know which way’s the best. I’ll find out one of these days.

Anyway, I went on walking home, thinking about the movie, and then suddenly wishing I had some company. Greasers can’t walk alone too much or they’ll get jumped, or someone will come by and scream “Greaser!” at them, which doesn’t make you feel too hot, if you know what I mean. We get jumped by the Socs. I’m not sure how you spell it, but it’s the abbreviation for the Socials, the jet set, the West-side rich kids. It’s like the term “greaser,” which is used to class all us boys on the East Side.

We’re poorer than the Socs and the middle class. I reckon we’re wilder, too. Not like the Socs, who jump greasers and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks, and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an asset to society the next. Greasers are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive old souped-up cars and hold up gas stations and have a gang fight once in a while. I don’t mean I do things like that. Darry would kill me if I got into trouble with the police. Since Mom and Dad were killed in an auto wreck, the three of us get to stay together only as long as we behave. So Soda and I stay out of trouble as much as we can, and we’re careful not to get caught when we can’t. I only mean that most greasers do things like that, just like we wear our hair long and dress in blue jeans and T-shirts, or leave our shirttails out and wear leather jackets and tennis shoes or boots. I’m not saying that either Socs or greasers are better; that’s just the way things are.

I could have waited to go to the movies until Darry or Sodapop got off work. They would have gone with me, or driven me there, or walked along, although Soda just can’t sit still long enough to enjoy a movie and they bore Darry to death. Darry thinks his life is enough without inspecting other people’s. Or I could have gotten one of the gang to come along, one of the four boys Darry and Soda and I have grown up with and consider family. We’re almost as close as brothers; when you grow up in a tight-knit neighborhood like ours you get to know each other real well. If I had thought about it, I could have called Darry and he would have come by on his way home and picked me up, or Two-Bit Mathews—one of our gang—would have come to get me in his car if I had asked him, but sometimes I just don’t use my head. It drives my brother Darry nuts when I do stuff like that, ’cause I’m supposed to be smart; I make good grades and have a high IQ and everything, but I don’t use my head. Besides, I like walking.

I about decided I didn’t like it so much, though, when I spotted that red Corvair trailing me. I was almost two blocks from home then, so I started walking a little faster. I had never been jumped, but I had seen Johnny after four Socs got hold of him, and it wasn’t pretty. Johnny was scared of his own shadow after that. Johnny was sixteen then.

I knew it wasn’t any use though—the fast walking, I mean—even before the Corvair pulled up beside me and five Socs got out. I got pretty scared—I’m kind of small for fourteen even though I have a good build, and those guys were bigger than me. I automatically hitched my thumbs in my jeans and slouched, wondering if I could get away if I made a break for it. I remembered Johnny—his face all cut up and bruised, and I remembered how he had cried when we found him, half-conscious, in the corner lot. Johnny had it awful rough at home—it took a lot to make him cry.

I was sweating something fierce, although I was cold. I could feel my palms getting clammy and the perspiration running down my back. I get like that when I’m real scared. I glanced around for a pop bottle or a stick or something—Steve Randle, Soda’s best buddy, had once held off four guys with a busted pop bottle—but there was nothing. So I stood there like a bump on a log while they surrounded me. I don’t use my head. They walked around slowly, silently, smiling.

“Hey, grease,” one said in an over-friendly voice. “We’re gonna do you a favor, greaser. We’re gonna cut all that long greasy hair off.”

He had on a madras shirt. I can still see it. Blue madras. One of them laughed, then cussed me out in a low voice. I couldn’t think of anything to say. There just isn’t a whole lot you can say while waiting to get mugged, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Need a haircut, greaser?” The medium-sized blond pulled a knife out of his back pocket and flipped the blade open.

I finally thought of something to say. “No.” I was backing up, away from that knife. Of course I backed right into one of them. They had me down in a second. They had my arms and legs pinned down and one of them was sitting on my chest with his knees on my elbows, and if you don’t think that hurts, you’re crazy. I could smell English Leather shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I would suffocate before they did anything. I was scared so bad I was wishing I would. I fought to get loose, and almost did for a second; then they tightened up on me and the one on my chest slugged me a couple of times. So I lay still, swearing at them between gasps. A blade was held against my throat.

“How’d you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?”

It occurred to me then that they could kill me. I went wild. I started screaming for Soda, Darry, anyone. Someone put his hand over my mouth, and I bit it as hard as I could, tasting the blood running through my teeth. I heard a muttered curse and got slugged again, and they were stuffing a handkerchief in my mouth. One of them kept saying, “Shut him up, for Pete’s sake, shut him up!”

Then there were shouts and the pounding of feet, and the Socs jumped up and left me lying there, gasping. I lay there and wondered what in the world was happening—people were jumping over me and running by me and I was too dazed to figure it out. Then someone had me under the armpits and was hauling me to my feet. It was Darry.

“Are you all right, Ponyboy?”

He was shaking me and I wished he’d stop. I was dizzy enough anyway. I could tell it was Darry though—partly because of the voice and partly because Darry’s always rough with me without meaning to be.

“I’m okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I’m okay.”

He stopped instantly. “I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t really. Darry isn’t ever sorry for anything he does. It seems funny to me that he should look just exactly like my father and act exactly the opposite from him. My father was only forty when he died and he looked twenty-five and a lot of people thought Darry and Dad were brothers instead of father and son. But they only looked alike—my father was never rough with anyone without meaning to be.

Darry is six-feet-two, and broad-shouldered and muscular. He has dark-brown hair that kicks out in front and a slight cowlick in the back—just like Dad’s—but Darry’s eyes are his own. He’s got eyes that are like two pieces of pale blue-green ice. They’ve got a determined set to them, like the rest of him. He looks older than twenty—tough, cool, and smart. He would be real handsome if his eyes weren’t so cold. He doesn’t understand anything that is not plain hard fact. But he uses his head.

I sat down again, rubbing my cheek where I’d been slugged the most.

Darry jammed his fists in his pockets. “They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”

They did. I was smarting and aching and my chest was sore and I was so nervous my hands were shaking and I wanted to start bawling, but you just don’t say that to Darry.

“I’m okay.”

Sodapop came loping back. By then I had figured that all the noise I had heard was the gang coming to rescue me. He dropped down beside me, examining my head.

“You got cut up a little, huh, Ponyboy?”

I only looked at him blankly. “I did?”

He pulled out a handkerchief, wet the end of it with his tongue, and pressed it gently against the side of my head. “You’re bleedin’ like a stuck pig.”

“I am?”

“Look!” He showed me the handkerchief, reddened as if by magic. “Did they pull a blade on you?”

I remembered the voice: “Need a haircut, greaser?” The blade must have slipped while he was trying to shut me up. “Yeah.”

Soda is handsomer than anyone else I know. Not like Darry—Soda’s movie-star kind of handsome, the kind that people stop on the street to watch go by. He’s not as tall as Darry, and he’s a little slimmer, but he has a finely drawn, sensitive face that somehow manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time. He’s got dark-gold hair that he combs back—long and silky and straight—and in the summer the sun bleaches it to a shining wheat-gold. His eyes are dark brown—lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyes that can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next. He has Dad’s eyes, but Soda is one of a kind. He can get drunk in a drag race or dancing without ever getting near alcohol. In our neighborhood it’s rare to find a kid who doesn’t drink once in a while. But Soda never touches a drop—he doesn’t need to. He gets drunk on just plain living. And he understands everybody.

He looked at me more closely. I looked away hurriedly, because, if you want to know the truth, I was starting to bawl. I knew I was as white as I felt and I was shaking like a leaf.

Soda just put his hand on my shoulder. “Easy, Ponyboy. They ain’t gonna hurt you no more.”

“I know,” I said, but the ground began to blur and I felt hot tears running down my cheeks. I brushed them away impatiently. “I’m just a little spooked, that’s all.” I drew a quivering breath and quit crying. You just don’t cry in front of Darry. Not unless you’re hurt like Johnny had been that day we found him in the vacant lot. Compared to Johnny I wasn’t hurt at all.

Soda rubbed my hair. “You’re an okay kid, Pony.”

I had to grin at him—Soda can make you grin no matter what. I guess it’s because he’s always grinning so much himself. “You’re crazy, Soda, out of your mind.”

Darry looked as if he’d like to knock our heads together. “You’re both nuts.”

Soda merely cocked one eyebrow, a trick he’d picked up from Two-Bit. “It seems to run in this family.”

Darry stared at him for a second, then cracked a grin. Sodapop isn’t afraid of him like everyone else and enjoys teasing him. I’d just as soon tease a full-grown grizzly; but for some reason, Darry seems to like being teased by Soda.

Our gang had chased the Socs to their car and heaved rocks at them. They came running toward us now—four lean, hard guys. They were all as tough as nails and looked it. I had grown up with them, and they accepted me, even though I was younger, because I was Darry and Soda’s kid brother and I kept my mouth shut good.

Steve Randle was seventeen, tall and lean, with thick greasy hair he kept combed in complicated swirls. He was cocky, smart, and Soda’s best buddy since grade school. Steve’s specialty was cars. He could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood, but he also knew cars upside-down and backward, and he could drive anything on wheels. He and Soda worked at the same gas station—Steve part time and Soda full time—and their station got more customers than any other in town. Whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because Soda attracted girls like honey draws flies, I couldn’t tell you. I liked Steve only because he was Soda’s best friend. He didn’t like me—he thought I was a tagalong and a kid; Soda always took me with them when they went places if they weren’t taking girls, and that bugged Steve. It wasn’t my fault; Soda always asked me, I didn’t ask him. Soda doesn’t think I’m a kid.

Two-Bit Mathews was the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch. He was about six feet tall, stocky in build, and very proud of his long rusty-colored sideburns. He had gray eyes and a wide grin, and he couldn’t stop making funny remarks to save his life. You couldn’t shut up that guy; he always had to get his two-bits worth in. Hence his name. Even his teachers forgot his real name was Keith, and we hardly remembered he had one. Life was one big joke to Two-Bit. He was famous for shoplifting and his black-handled switchblade (which he couldn’t have acquired without his first talent), and he was always smarting off to the cops. He really couldn’t help it. Everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it to brighten up their dull lives. (That’s the way he explained it to me.) He liked fights, blondes, and for some unfathomable reason, school. He was still a junior at eighteen and a half and he never learned anything. He just went for kicks. I liked him real well because he kept us laughing at ourselves as well as at other things. He reminded me of Will Rogers—maybe it was the grin.

If I had to pick the real character of the gang, it would be Dallas Winston—Dally. I used to like to draw his picture when he was in a dangerous mood, for then I could get his personality down in a few lines. He had an elfish face, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, small, sharp animal teeth, and ears like a lynx. His hair was almost white it was so blond, and he didn’t like haircuts, or hair oil either, so it fell over his forehead in wisps and kicked out in the back in tufts and curled behind his ears and along the nape of his neck. His eyes were blue, blazing ice, cold with a hatred of the whole world. Dally had spent three years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at the age of ten. He was tougher than the rest of us—tougher, colder, meaner. The shade of difference that separates a greaser from a hood wasn’t present in Dally. He was as wild as the boys in the downtown outfits, like Tim Shepard’s gang.

In New York, Dally blew off steam in gang fights, but here, organized gangs are rarities—there are just small bunches of friends who stick together, and the warfare is between the social classes. A rumble, when it’s called, is usually born of a grudge fight, and the opponents just happen to bring their friends along. Oh, there are a few named gangs around, like the River Kings and the Tiber Street Tigers, but here in the Southwest there’s no gang rivalry. So Dally, even though he could get into a good fight sometimes, had no specific thing to hate. No rival gang. Only Socs. And you can’t win against them no matter how hard you try, because they’ve got all the breaks and even whipping them isn’t going to change that fact. Maybe that was why Dallas was so bitter.

He had quite a reputation. They have a file on him down at the police station. He had been arrested, he got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, stole, rolled drunks, jumped small kids—he did everything. I didn’t like him, but he was smart and you had to respect him.

Johnny Cade was last and least. If you can picture a little dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and is lost in a crowd of strangers, you’ll have Johnny. He was the youngest, next to me, smaller than the rest, with a slight build. He had big black eyes in a dark tanned face; his hair was jet-black and heavily greased and combed to the side, but it was so long that it fell in shaggy bangs across his forehead. He had a nervous, suspicious look in his eyes, and that beating he got from the Socs didn’t help matters. He was the gang’s pet, everyone’s kid brother. His father was always beating him up, and his mother ignored him, except when she was hacked off at something, and then you could hear her yelling at him clear down at our house. I think he hated that worse than getting whipped. He would have run away a million times if we hadn’t been there. If it hadn’t been for the gang, Johnny would never have known what love and affection are.

I wiped my eyes hurriedly. “Didya catch ’em?”

“Nup. They got away this time, the dirty . . .” Two-Bit went on cheerfully, calling the Socs every name he could think of or make up.

“The kid’s okay?”

“I’m okay.” I tried to think of something to say. I’m usually pretty quiet around people, even the gang. I changed the subject. “I didn’t know you were out of the cooler yet, Dally.”

“Good behavior. Got off early.” Dallas lit a cigarette and handed it to Johnny. Everyone sat down to have a smoke and relax. A smoke always lessens the tension. I had quit trembling and my color was back. The cigarette was calming me down. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. “Nice-lookin’ bruise you got there, kid.”

I touched my cheek gingerly. “Really?”

Two-Bit nodded sagely. “Nice cut, too. Makes you look tough.”

Tough and tuff are two different words. Tough is the same as rough; tuff means cool, sharp—like a tuff-looking Mustang or a tuff record. In our neighborhood both are compliments.

Steve flicked his ashes at me. “What were you doin’, walkin’ by your lonesome?” Leave it to good old Steve to bring up something like that.

“I was comin’ home from the movies. I didn’t think . . .”

“You don’t ever think,” Darry broke in, “not at home or anywhere when it counts. You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home, and you’ve always got your nose in a book, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree, bub. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade.”

I just stared at the hole in the toe of my tennis shoe. Me and Darry just didn’t dig each other. I never could please him. He would have hollered at me for carrying a blade if I had carried one. If I brought home B’s, he wanted A’s, and if I got A’s, he wanted to make sure they stayed A’s. If I was playing football, I should be in studying, and if I was reading, I should be out playing football. He never hollered at Sodapop—not even when Soda dropped out of school or got tickets for speeding. He just hollered at me.

Soda was glaring at him. “Leave my kid brother alone, you hear? It ain’t his fault he likes to go to the movies, and it ain’t his fault the Socs like to jump us, and if he had been carrying a blade it would have been a good excuse to cut him to ribbons.”

Soda always takes up for me.

Darry said impatiently, “When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I’ll ask you—kid brother.” But he laid off me. He always does when Sodapop tells him to. Most of the time.

“Next time get one of us to go with you, Ponyboy,” Two-Bit said. “Any of us will.”

“Speakin’ of movies”—Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette butt—“I’m walkin’ over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to come and hunt some action?”

Steve shook his head. “Me and Soda are pickin’ up Evie and Sandy for the game.”

He didn’t need to look at me the way he did right then. I wasn’t going to ask if I could come. I’d never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can’t stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him.

Darry sighed, just like I knew he would. Darry never had time to do anything anymore. “I’m working tomorrow night.”

Dally looked at the rest of us. “How about y’all? Two-Bit? Johnnycake, you and Pony wanta come?”

“Me and Johnny’ll come,” I said. I knew Johnny wouldn’t open his mouth unless he was forced to. “Okay, Darry?”

“Yeah, since it ain’t a school night.” Darry was real good about letting me go places on the weekends. On school nights I could hardly leave the house.

“I was plannin’ on getting boozed up tomorrow night,” Two-Bit said. “If I don’t, I’ll walk over and find y’all.”

Steve was looking at Dally’s hand. His ring, which he had rolled a drunk senior to get, was back on his finger. “You break up with Sylvia again?”

“Yeah, and this time it’s for good. That little broad was two-timin’ me again while I was in jail.”

I thought of Sylvia and Evie and Sandy and Two-Bit’s many blondes. They were the only kind of girls that would look at us, I thought. Tough, loud girls who wore too much eye makeup and giggled and swore too much. I liked Soda’s girl Sandy just fine, though. Her hair was natural blond and her laugh was soft, like her china-blue eyes. She didn’t have a real good home or anything and was our kind—greaser—but she was a real nice girl. Still, lots of times I wondered what other girls were like. The girls who were bright-eyed and had their dresses a decent length and acted as if they’d like to spit on us if given a chance. Some were afraid of us, and remembering Dallas Winston, I didn’t blame them. But most looked at us like we were dirt—gave us the same kind of look that the Socs did when they came by in their Mustangs and Corvairs and yelled “Grease!” at us. I wondered about them. The girls, I mean . . . Did they cry when their boys were arrested, like Evie did when Steve got hauled in, or did they run out on them the way Sylvia did Dallas? But maybe their boys didn’t get arrested or beaten up or busted up in rodeos.

I was still thinking about it while I was doing my homework that night. I had to read Great Expectations for English, and that kid Pip, he reminded me of us—the way he felt marked lousy because he wasn’t a gentleman or anything, and the way that girl kept looking down on him. That happened to me once. One time in biology I had to dissect a worm, and the razor wouldn’t cut, so I used my switchblade. The minute I flicked it out—I forgot what I was doing or I would never have done it—this girl right beside me kind of gasped, and said, “They are right. You are a hood.” That didn’t make me feel so hot. There were a lot of Socs in that class—I get put into A classes because I’m supposed to be smart—and most of them thought it was pretty funny. I didn’t, though. She was a cute girl. She looked real good in yellow.

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5.0 out of 5 stars The Miraculous Work of S.E Hinton: The Outsiders

m. · October 31, 2017

Growing up is difficult. The desire to fit in is pitted against the encouragement to be unique and different. A person’s actions as well as the influence of family, friends, and society helps to form a person’s identity. And, this isn’t all kids need to worry about: they will face and deal with bumps in the road and times where they’re down. Ponyboy in The Outsiders thinks his life is figured out, until one night his world is flipped upside down. S. E. Hinton thoughtfully crafted The Outsiders out of her own experiences. A story written in 1965 is still relevant today and captivates the reader with a youthful, slangy writing style which allows the reader to bond with the characters.The Outsiders, written in 1965 Oklahoma, displays the struggle between two gangs in a town. The narrator, Ponyboy Curtis, his brothers, and friends make up the Greasers. This rag tag group of impoverished guys stick by each other's sides no matter what. They are up against the rich, snooty, Socs. These guys drive around in their expensive cars and jump Greasers to appear cool and intimidate them. In a constant battle between the Socs and Greasers, Ponyboy Curtis discovers there is good and bad in everyone.The story displays a conflict between two gangs who think they are very different: “Greasers are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive old souped-up cars and hold up gas stations and have a gang fight once in a while” (3). On the other hand, “[Socs] jump greasers and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an asset to society the next” (3). It isn’t safe for a Greaser to walk around alone, for the Socs always pull up in their convertible, hop out, and jump them. The Greasers despise the Socs and the Socs despise the Greasers. This is the case for Ponyboy too until he meets Cherry, the toughest Soc’s girlfriend, he realizes that Socs aren’t all that different after all. Cherry and Ponyboy share many similarities, especially their love for sunsets. With the help of Cherry, Ponyboy realizes the greasers, including himself, misjudged the Socs. Yes, they do get drunk and beat up Greasers for no good reason, but they are human and they have lives outside of how well they can fight. Will Ponyboy get everyone else to see the Socs true colors? Can this ever get better? The conflict remains relevant to society fifty years after it was written because there always seems to be this in-group and out-group.Not only is the story relevant to society, but it also maintains a young, slangy tone that allows the reader to connect with the characters. S. E. Hinton commented that “these characters are really kind of universal without losing their individuality.” The story, written when the author was only fifteen years old, is told from Ponyboy’s perspective. Ponyboy is a fourteen year old kid living with his two older brothers, Darry and Sodapop. Sodapop is sixteen and Darry is twenty and has custody of Sodapop and Ponyboy since their parents died in a car crash. Ponyboy’s young and optimistic, so his narration draws the reader in. Initially, Ponyboy feels very self-conscious and vulnerable: “I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman- he looks tough and I don’t” (1) He’s the youngest of the gang and looks up to his older, tougher brothers and friends. Within the first few pages, Ponyboy walks home from the movie theater alone and is stopped by Socs. “Need a haircut, greaser?” they ask him, “How’d you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?”(5) His brothers find him, fight back and save him. In Darry and Sodapop’s eyes Ponyboy is still young and fragile. But, as the story advances Ponyboy fights hard to prove the gang wrong. He grows stronger as he learns to be courageous, defend himself, and later in the process meets death face to face. S.E Hinton said “When I write, an interesting transformation takes place. I go from thinking about my narrator to being him,” and this is also how I felt while reading this. Ponyboy is forced to grow up in order to fit in, and as this happens the reader gets to grow with him and see him both thrive and grieve. With help from family and friends, growing up can be much more manageable and even fun. When reading The Outsiders I could never put the book down. I would recommend this book to anyone and everyone looking for an easy read with a timeless story and a powerful message.

5.0 out of 5 stars A classic

C.C. · September 13, 2024

My kiddo had to read this for school, and I was disappointed in myself that I didn't already own it as I thought I did. A classic, and a must read for anyone and everyone.

5.0 out of 5 stars Timeless...

Z. · September 23, 2024

I read this for the first time over 40 years ago.I recently had my kids read it, and decided I wanted to read it again as well.It was just as profoundly impactful the second time around.I know they made it into a movie at one point, but I can't bring myself to watch it. Hinton did such an incredible job at character development, that there's simply no way a group of actors could ever live up to my expectations of who Ponyboy, Soda, Darry, Steve, Two-bit and Dally were as individuals.Anyway, great book, and if you haven't read, treat yourself.

5.0 out of 5 stars One of my favorite books!!

A.P. · October 2, 2024

I remember reading this book in 7th grade and ever since then it has been one of my favorite books! As someone who doesn’t read much I really loved this book. I find myself coming back to this book at least once a year and enjoying it every time. If you have not read this book I recommend it!!!

4.0 out of 5 stars A Classic - remarkable for a young author

A.A. · August 19, 2024

I hadn’t read this in decades so revisited since the musical came out. It’s also set in my hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma. It stands the test of time as a YouthNovel and is remarkable that Hinton was so young when she wrote it.

5.0 out of 5 stars Good book

C.U.w.p.D.n.l.l.t.o.I.o.W.n.o.a.p.p.a.P.i.t.a.e.t.w.t.g.i. · October 3, 2024

Good book

5.0 out of 5 stars Such a great book!

J.L. · July 13, 2023

Everyone is probably well aware of the coming of age classic, The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. Since its publication in 1967, it has become an iconic classic. It became a beloved classic film in 1983 which starred relatively unknown actors but who became household names. Actors like C. Thomas Howell, Ralph Macchino, Patrick Swayze and so many more. The New York Times stated, “The Outsiders transformed young-adult fiction from a genre mostly about prom queens, football players and high school crushes to one that portrayed a darker, truer world." I first read The Outsiders in 7th grade and it was the first time I read a book to analyze themes and messages. It was the first book which has stuck with me even thirty years laters! Recently, I reread The Outsiders and I was immediately transported back to the 7th grade and recaptured my love for this beautiful story.It is a beloved story of heroism, friendship and belonging. No one said life was easy but 14-year old Ponyboy Crutis is confident he has it figured out. He knows he can count on his older brothers, Darry and Sodapop. He knows he can count on his friends, true friends who would have his back for anything. He also knows he can count on trouble with the Socs, the gang of rich kids who take pleasure in beating up the “greasers” like Ponyboy and his friends. One night, after an innocent interaction with two Soc girls, the tension rises and turns deadly leaving one Soc dead and Ponyboy and his friend, Johnny, running for their lives. Convinced their version of events would not be believed, the boys go into hiding until an act of heroism brings them in the limelight. Ponyboy must learn that life isn’t always greener on the other side.The Outsiders is gritty, dramatic and remains as powerful today as it was when it was first published. It laid the groundwork for the Young Adult genre. S.E. Hinton wrote this story when she was 15 years old after she witnessed her friend get jumped by rich kids. The Outsiders was and is a controversial book and it is challenged and debated today. It was ranked #38 on the American Library Association’s Top 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of the 1990s. It has been banned for the portrayal of gang violence, underage drinking and smoking, and family dysfunction. However, the book is still a part of the curriculum at the middle and high school levels in the US schools. I look forward to introducing my daughters to this beautiful story. If you have never read The Outsiders, I highly, highly, highly recommend it! Then I recommend watching the film.The Outsiders is available in paperback, eBook and audiobookThe Outsiders movie is available in Blu-ray, DVD and streaming

5.0 out of 5 stars A++

J.J. · September 17, 2024

my favorite book for all time ever

Não há um erro!

C.K. · September 30, 2023

O melhor livro que já li. Me prendeu do início ao fim, com bons personagens, boas ambientações e uma história bem escrita. Muito especial!

A classic that still remains impactful today

S.O. · July 29, 2022

Like millions of students in North American schools, I discovered S.E. Hinton’s classic The Outsiders during my English classes. As a semester reading, her debut novel has always been included in many classes’ curriculums. And among the books I read at school, it was one of the best novels to study.Set over two weeks, The Outsiders recounts the trials of Ponyboy, a greaser who lives with his brothers Daryl and Sodapop after their parents passed away from a car accident eight months ago. Struggling in poverty and difficult conditions, that family nevertheless survives daily hardships thanks to Daryl and Soda’s friends; a group of greasers involving comrades like Two-Bit, Johnny, and Dally. Together, they help each other and also confront the Socs; upper-class dandies who live in luxurious conditions and who fight with the Greasers as the latter represents the poorer middle class. Therefore, it is within this social war that Ponyboy lives while he studies at school, rests at home, and enjoys his free time in cinemas, watching movies alone, or with his friends like Two-Bit, Johnny, and Dally like he decided one Saturday. An initiative that makes them meet two girls linked to the Socs; generating a tragic incident affecting Ponyboy and his friends forever.Set around 1965, The Outsiders makes references to pop culture figures like Elvis Presley (Greasers music) and The Beatles (Socs music), so for those who enjoy listening to music while, there are great Spotify playlists that present 1960s music. As a musical companion, it sets us right into the decade. An era of revolution, changes, and social confrontations. A story between two social groups in a middle-American town named Tulsa, Oklahoma. Furthermore, another crucial reference piece is Gone with the Wind, the classic by Margaret Mitchell. Read by Ponyboy to Johnny, this literary mention made me discover this classic which I started researching and it made me learn more about its movie adaptation and its novel.As for The Outsiders‘s importance, its publication was revolutionary as it changed the landscapes of Young Adult and Teen literature. Back then, most stories published in those genres revolved around girl crushes, High School proms, and Sports teams. But here, S.E. Hinton presented a plotline about teens in emotional and social turmoils; living social classes discrimination and fighting to survive; and where a very good-hearted teenager tries to reveal to everyone how socs and greasers are the same. Living in different classes, but struggling with social codes and life reality.So it is due to this capture of rough teen life that the book has been banned in certain schools and libraries. Nevertheless, its constant praises, words of mouth, and school readings have helped make it a best-seller for fifty years. With over 13 million copies sold by 2007; 40th anniversary of the book. And for this occasion, the Viking publisher released a special edition; featuring the original cover and printing typography inside. So when people read this copy, it is as if they hold the first edition in their hands. An edition that I find more rewarding and impressive than the so-so paperback edition I read at school that featured some heartthrob 1980s or 1990s teens. Indeed, the Original illustration is presented under pop art colors, dots, and hand-drawn squares. With the protagonists, drawn in rough-stick figures, running toward something (showdown between the Greasers and the Socs). A cover that helps make the novel accessible to adult readers who might want to read it, but might be too embarrassed to show that they are reading a teen novel.By the way, that S.E. Hinton wrote the story while in high school helps make the prose more raw and accurate to what a teen feels inside; with all the questions, anger, and doubts that teens go through as they see drama between two cliques. Had an older author written the novel, the words’ emotional and dramatic intensity might not have been as impactful.And as for the open-ending, it makes us wonder how will the story evolve for Ponyboy and his family. For the best or the worst? So what we have here is a recorded capture of two weeks that Ponyboy lives; where his life evolved through a rollercoaster of dramas and tragedies. And it is from that moment that we develop empathy for its protagonists. A team of youngsters trying to survive.About the movie adaptation, it was directed by Francis Ford Coppola himself, and it stars icons like Matt Dillon, Ralph Macchio, Patrick Swayze, Tom Cruise, and other 1980s icons. I remember seeing the film, but I think it was the theatrical version; not the complete version that the director presented in a DVD release, featuring a new soundtrack and thirty minutes of extra scenes, making it more faithful to the novel.So overall, rereading The Outsiders 22 years later was quite an experience. It helped me recapture the feelings I experienced back then. An amazing time travel within a novel that I recommend everyone to read as the book’s reality is still actual. For it is a painting about how gangs and groups in conflict with each other are so similar in their pains and joys. A reality that some people still refuse to recognize sadly.

Bello

R. · May 11, 2024

Mi serviva per scuola

It is exactly as described

S. · March 21, 2024

It was for my daughter for school but it came in great condition

Will always be one of my favourite books

S.D. · February 9, 2024

Unlike most of 'The Outsiders' fans, I didn't read this book in school as I am from France. I didn't hear about it either, until one day, my mother decided to show me the movie. I was around 13/14yo when I first watched it, and as of today, I've seen it more than 30 times.It's safe to say I truly became a fan after I watched the movie (developing, in the way, a massive crush on tommy howell whom I love as much as I love this book/movie). So when I started to know English enough to read books on my own, I picked it up, and read it.I felt nostalgic, I could hear the characters talk while reading their dialogues, having watched the movie first. I like that there are some differences (the major ones being in the descriptions of the main characters). I felt even closer to Ponyboy as his character and myself are much alike (book nerds, movie lovers, personality like...) And so I fell in love with the book as well. So, a few days ago, after about 10 years of discovering the movie adaptation of this jewel, I bought the 50th anniversary edition of 'The Outsiders'.Reading it again felt really amazing, I will never get bored of this book, and will always come back to it. It's my comfort book. It just connects with me. I'm incredibly thankful for my mother to have shown me this wonderful movie which led me to read this "one in a lifetime" book.I don't think I'll ever fall in love with a book, the way I fell in love with 'The Outsiders'. Thank you, Mrs S.E Hinton.And to all the fellow fans,Stay Gold everyoneS

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The Outsiders

Name: The Outsiders
Brand: Viking Books for Young Readers
SKU: U014240733K
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Rating: 4.7 (13 reviews)

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