Virginia Hamilton likes dangerous edges. She tries things that might not work. Her books are experimental, different, strange. She runs bravely along the edges of cliffs.

Her characters also exist on the edges of things. Often they cross the border into adolescence, teeming out of childhood into the chancy independence of maturity with a bursting strength that sometimes brims over into violence. They are black, but their color is not what is most important about them. At Virginia Hamilton's best, her characters transcend race and youth, and grow larger until they are towering images of dignity and power.

In "Arilla Sun Down" the muscular young presence is Arilla's big brother Jack Sun Run. Sun skirts dangerous precipices. Bare-chested, splendid as an Indian warrior, he rears his horse, defying white policemen. And Arilla, too, bumps up against hostile boundaries. There is the bruising rivalry with her over-powering brother and...