For Tottie Plantaganet, a little wooden doll, belonging to Emily and Charlotte Dane is wonderful. The only thing missing is a dollhouse that Tottie and her family could call their very own. But when the dollhouse finally does arrive, Tottie's problems really begin. That dreadful doll Marchpane comes to live with them, disrupting the harmony of the Plantaganet family with her lies and conceited way. Will Tottie ever be able to call the dollhouse home?
Margaret Rumer Godden was an English author of more than 60 fiction and non-fiction books. Nine of her works have been made into films, most notably Black Narcissus in 1947 and The River in 1951. A few of her works were co-written with her elder sister, novelist Jon Godden, including Two Under the Indian Sun, a memoir of the Goddens' childhood in a region of India now part of Bangladesh.
I realise and also do much appreciate that Rumer Godden's The Dolls' House is considered a classic and seems much loved by many. And on an entirely and emotionlessly intellectual level, especially considering that the book was published in 1947 and thus very soon after the end of WWII, the narrative emphasis presented by the author on mortality, on making do with what one has, even on mending and being of an accepting if not actually forgiving spirit, does strongly and realistically reflect its time and place (and that the latter, especially considering the horrors of WWII, is also very much laudable and heartening).
But all that being said and on a personal and yes emotional level, I do in fact feel somewhat uncomfortable with the fact that while the two little girls who are the owners of the dolls, while Charlotte and Emily Dane, clearly much love them and try to provide their cherished toys with the best kind of domicile they (and by extension their family) can at this time manage and afford (even if this consists of plain shoe cartons), the dolls (Tottie and the others) not only clearly and understandingly long for and desire a real dolls' house, they also (at least to and for me) almost seem actively unhappy with Emily and Charlotte and even at times resentful of them and the fact that they have only managed to provide them with shoe cartons as living quarters (there is a distinct and rather sadly palpable feeling emanating from the printed words, from the text of The Dolls' House that the dolls, and that especially Tottie and Mr. Plantaganet are more than a bit angry at and frustrated with Emily and Charlotte and that their love for the two is somewhat tempered by the lack of a dolls' house and even potentially reliant on the procuration of the same).
Now while I do appreciate that Tottie, Birdie and the other dolls manage to obtain their cherished dollhouse (and also have indeed much enjoyed reading both about how Charlotte and Emily actively proceed trying to earn the necessary funds to refurbish, to renovate the dollhouse they have inherited and about Tottie's sojourn at the exhibition and that Mrs. Innisfree keeps her safe and even tells the Queen of England that Tottie is not for sale), the constant griping of especially Apple and Mr. Plantaganet when it turns out that the inherited dollhouse is dusty, rundown with age and desperately needs to be refurbished, the advent of Marchpane, and especially the ending (and what happens to poor Birdie), all this really does make me rather cringe a bit. And with the ending, it is not so much Birdie's tragic fate that I find hard to accept and stomach (although I was close to tears), but more that there are no real and potentially uncomfortable consequences for Marchpane (for the villain and main antagonist), and that this actually seems to be not only acceptable but even desired as an outcome.
For why should Marchpane's only consequence be that she is donated to a museum (considering that it was she who endangered Apple and caused Birdie to sacrifice herself for him), and especially since being sent to a museum is precisely what would make Marchpane happy, would be something that she would very much desire and enjoy? Now I am perhaps overreacting with too much personal nastiness and anger here, but I do know that I would not likely even be able to consider being in any way as forgiving and perhaps yes, as reasonable, as Emily and Charlotte show themselves to be (and by extension Tottie whose idea it actually seems to have been to donate Marchpane to a museum, and who then transferred that idea to Charlotte and Emily). And thus, I do (perhaps a bit guiltily) have to admit that I definitely would prefer Marchpane to have been tossed into the rubbish by Charlotte and Emily and I do actually find it a trifle disappointing that this did not occur, that she is not taken and thrown out or thrown into the fire (as Emily originally said she wanted to), that she basically ends up getting exactly what she wants, being an admired and often sketched attraction at a local museum (although I guess it is indeed and definitely a positive that Marchpane is no longer a presence in the dollhouse and thus no longer a threat to the remaining dolls, to Mr. Plantaganet, Tottie, Apple and of course, Darner the darning needle dog).
The angry part of myself therefore does indeed and continues to chafe more than a bit at the ending of The Dolls' House and that Marchpane really does not in any way have to face serious or problematic repercussions, that she basically attains and obtains what she desires, admiration and fame (and while if I think about the ending of The Dolls' House without emotion and with intellectual logic, perhaps this is actually both a suitable and even the right type of an outcome, with the remaining dolls now safe from Marchpane's machinations and jealousy and Marchpane, while indeed well out of the way, also safe, sound and I guess happy), emotionally, I will always consider the fact that the main villain, that the main instigator of the fire tragedy, really does majorly get off with absolutely no serious consequences whatsoever (and receives basically even somewhat of a reward, in my opinion) very much grating, saddening and frustratingly aggravating (two and a half stars, rounded up to a very low three star ranking, as I do appreciate the fact that Rumer Godden's The Dolls' House is a classic and that many of the underlying messages are laudable, positive, even if on an personal level, I really do oh so very adamantly despise the ending).
Once upon a time I fell in love with a book at a babysitter’s house. I was a precocious reader pre-k, and found my treasure in a stranger’s back room. The book had no covers and not even the first and last chapters. All that remained of it were the middle bits, torn up and smudged, but that was enough: I loved it. Every time I went to sitter's house, I was shushed off to that corner, where the kids who'd grown and gone piled cast offs for kidlets like me. . . I loved that book.
Families move, and following work, my family left So Cal and I never saw that babysitter or book again. Didn't even know the name of it. All I knew was that it was peopled by dolls who came to life when people weren't around, and they were a diverse group of dolls, not just all the same. I knew there was a wooden doll and a china doll, a family and moving in and out of a home was part of the story. We were a family whose only affordable entertainment was going to the library once a week . . . .and over the years I looked. I quizzed librarians as a 10-year-old, a 17-year-old, in my 20's with babies bouncing off hips, in my 30's with my own brood at libraries. I volunteered at local libraries and took the opportunity to delve deeply in the research that was available. Nothing. Shaking heads all around. Years march on, the internet showed up and still I had not a clue, but tried googling, and nothing came up with results I recognized.
In February I joined a FB reading group, and the thought occurred to me that here was a real pool of readers. I just threw it out there. Lo and behold, after crickets for a few days, a wonderful woman piped up and pointed me at Rumer Godden's The Doll's House. . . turns out it wasn’t easy to find a physical copy – but I finally did through abebooks.com. The copy I received in the mail happened to be inscribed by Ada Comstock, the first president of Radcliffe, a fierce proponent of women's education, a very nice bonus.
I read it slowly – wanting to ensure this was the Very Book. Remember: All I ever had read was the middle of the book – no beginning and no end. My final test: I knew this was the first written work where I’d ever seen the word “butler” in a text. (A butler is painted on the wall in the doll house – the dolls discuss how it is an unsuccessful attempt at making a doll, but worthy of respect nonetheless.) I didn’t know what that word meant, nor once I learned it was the title of a person, had no context for the job, being a kid in limited circumstances. I took the book to a grown-up, who explained what a butler was (it was a hard sell for me, and so stuck out in my mind). I read with anticipation – would I find the word “butler”???. . . every page turned crested disappointment and up-floated hope. When I came upon it, I will admit, I wept. This was The Book, The Very One. (NOTE: my grandson caught me in this condition and had to have the entire story before we could move on to other activities.)
There are two little girls in the story, Charlotte and Emily, who have a collection of dolls, some of which are inherited from a great-great-grandma. The most important doll is the oldest, a wooden doll originally sold for a farthing, named Tottie. Tottie is hundreds of years old having been passed down, and since she is wood, is sturdy and steadfast. She thinks often of the tree from which she came, and believes that by wishing, wishing very hard, one can fix most ills and bend fate, a little. There is a china doll, Marchpane, who thinks she is all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips; and mid-way through the story an actual dolls’ house is found in a family attic and is from whence the name of the book derives. There are other dolls: Mr. Plantagenet, who is heavy-headed and has a missing foot and is thoughtful and usually worried; Birdie, his wife, is a plastic doll from a cracker box, and is perpetually on the sunny side and just a little drifty; Apple, their “son” is a round little homemade wool creation who rolls everywhere getting in trouble and under furniture; lastly, Darner is their dog, made from scraps and who has a darning needle for his back bone and tail (a surprising choice for a child’s toy). The story is sweet and fulsome, has happy moments and tragedy, all about the rightness of pulling together as a family when the members of that family don’t exactly match, and allowing everyone to be who they are and do what they will. It’s about loving and remembering the happy bright spots of life, and moving on through the darker shadows that come – allowing the bright memories to illuminate and dispel sad times that surely come to all.
*** I love these quotes:
Charlotte says, “I have been thinking of thinking. And there is no knowing where it leads to, or when it will end, or where.”
A conversation between Mr. Plantagenet and Tottie:
“Do you remember them, Tottie?” “I remember everything,” said Tottie, listening to the music. “Yes, I suppose you must, and for so long,” said Mr. Plantagenet. “Such a long time, Tottie.” “Yes,” said Tottie. “Things come and things pass,” said Mr. Plantagenet. “Everything, from trees to dolls,” said Tottie.
*** Reunited at last. Thanks for listening. Keep on reading, everyone!
Rumer Godden was a big part of my childhood. I was brought up on all her doll books, and loved them. I was about eight or ten when my Mom gave them to me. They fuelled my love for reading and I doubt I'd be reading as much as I do today if it weren't for them. The Dolls' House is the first book I remember that made me cry. I've recently reread it and still think it is the most poignant and beautiful of all children's books. And I love the protagonist, Tottie, (I even named a doll after her when I was small though she, unlike Tottie, wasn't wooden much to my child-self disappointment) she's such a strong lead and rolemodel for a children's book. I say it's a children's book, but it can really be read by anyone at any age and still have the same effect. It's sad, which is what other reviewer's seem to hate about it. Sometimes we just need to feel the emotion sadness, even when we're young. I found it very hard growing up and leaving my dolls and their house behind, after being brought up reading these doll books.
I read the first few chapters and was rather captivated. Yet, at the same time, I felt melancholy the enitre time and decided to stop reading. At first, I thought it was just nostalgia for my childhood, but then I realized what it was... The dolls are not happy being with girls who love them, in the shoeboxes the girls provide as homes because they cannot afford a real doll's house. The dolls long for a real doll's house. Now, perhaps something changes as the story progressed (and I heard the ending is sad--so I skipped ahead and was a bit shocked at what happened, considering it is a kid's book about dolls!) but I thought it was not a good message to send to children; I didn't have a fancy doll house, either, and it would have been very sad indeed to think my dolls were not happy with me, when I loved them so much--that the home I gave them was not enough.
I know this is much-beloved, and the writing is very good, but just be cautious depending on your child given the tragic fate that befalls the doll family in the end.
I have a thing for living dolls. I guess it's the combination of allegory and childlike whimsy that appeals to me.
This story perfectly captures the joy of dollhouses as well as the essence of childhood. I remember how my dolls had personalities that I hadn't consciously created. I just sort of sensed them. Godden taps into that sense in the most delightful way! --But it's not all whimsy and roses. There's a touch of melancholy to the narrative as well. There's so much to this little book! It works on many levels. It resonates at any age.
And I adore Tottie. She's like the doll version of Dorothea Brooke.
Now, if I can just find The Great Gatsby with dolls...
Superb. One of my favourite read alouds ever, a beautiful one for Advent/Christmas. The illustrations by Tudor are perfection. Godden’s cozy, poignant little book is a master class on foreshadowing and narrative tension. It held my 4 year old son’s attention as well as my 14 year old’s. Love those little glimpses into postwar scarcity, and the sensitive handling of themes of trauma and resilience (without using those recent terms). A wonderful family book and a great introduction to Godden.
For years I have been looking for the dollhouse book I read once at my grandmother's. We visited her library and I checked this book out. I long labored under the delusion that it was Henrik Ibsen's A Doll's House, but once I found out that was a play I knew I had to keep looking. Imagine my surprise when I realized it was a book written by one of my now-favorite authors, and illustrated by my beloved Tasha Tudor! The story itself is a bit dark, but fittingly Godden. The way she writes about the dolls' world is unlike other doll stories I've read, and the worldbuilding holds up. I enjoyed re-rediscovering this one.
I was never the sort of child who played with dolls, other than dressing up my Barbies for covert intelligence missions. But I was obsessed with dollhouses. We used to get the J.C. Penney catalog every year, and every year I would look at the different houses and all the tiny furniture and accessories and imagine owning them. I never did get one, but then I think the fantasy was better than the reality.
Which is why The Doll's House has always been a comforting favorite of mine. My favorite part is not reading about the dolls, but how the girls and their mother cleaned up the 100-year-old dollhouse, refurnishing it and washing the carpets and so forth. I love the woman who stitches petit-point for the cushions of the sofa and chair. That such things can be loved and kept safe for so long just fascinates me.
Of course, this is Rumer Godden, so the story and characters are beautiful as well--simple, maybe too simple, and I think modern readers may feel talked down to, but it's that simplicity that makes the story work. I love the mismatched nature of the dolls that fits so perfectly with how actual children's toys look (something the movie Toy Story captured as well). Tottie's assertion that she's not lesser because she isn't made of porcelain or kid, that great and strong things are made of wood, is a strong theme that makes the ending stronger: I bought this on a recent book-buying binge and was so glad to have the chance to revisit an old friend.
This is my first experience of reading Rumer Godden and it's a book very much set in its time with one, slightly surprising element which is a scene of death and loss in a book that I would argue is for quite young children. Although the death is that of a doll, this would not detract from the impact as the story itself revolves around the life of a small family of dolls who are owned and loved by two young sisters. This whole moment came as a shock to me and it was better for it. Although you could argue that a story written shortly after the second world war about a family of dolls who are looked after by two girls is a little dated and twee, there is something powerful going on here with characterisation. Each doll is very much its own character: Mr Plantagenet ( nervous and with poor self esteem having been cared poorly by previous owners), Birdie(a little ditsy yet whose care for the family shows itself to be unparalleled), Apple (a little, adventurous boy who can be fickle at times), Tottie (the main character - small yet strong and caring and Marchpane (incredibly self-centred and vain). And because of this, I would argue that it's a fine story about humanity and what it is that makes us who we are.
The Plantagenets—a group of dolls of different types, made into a family by being thrown together and belonging to the same two girls—long for a proper doll house in this children's novel from Rumer Godden. Their wish is granted when the little girls, Emily and Charlotte, inherit a house from an elderly relative, and everything seems ideal at first. Tottie, a little farthing doll from 1846, is distressed by her experiences being loaned out to an exhibition, but is happy when she discovers she is not to be sold. But when Marchpane—a vain and cruel doll Tottie knew long ago—enters the scene, the Plantagenets find their happiness destroyed. Pushed aside in their own house, and disregarded by Emily, the elder of their two human girls, things go from bad to worse. Only an act of sacrificial love on the part of Birdie, a celluloid doll who is the mother of the Plantagenet family, sets things to rights...
Originally published in 1947, with illustrations by Dana Saintsbury, The Dolls' House was republished in the edition I read in 1962, with new artwork from Tasha Tudor. I have not seen the earlier edition, and therefore cannot speak to its appeal, but when it comes to the illustrations, this newer edition was simply charming! Tudor's black and white drawings, sprinkled throughout, are delightful, and greatly enhanced my reading experience. The story itself was fairly engaging, although nowhere near as appealing as some of Godden's other doll tales, such as The Story of Holly and Ivy, which is a personal favorite. I tend to have an on-again off-again relationship with doll fiction, sometimes finding it very appealing and poignant, and then sometimes being indifferent to it. This was shaping up to be in the latter category, until the final few chapters, which were unexpected and quite melancholy. I think Godden does some interesting things here, playing with themes such as the longing for a home—the dolls are a mismatched group, and some have experienced misfortune, so I interpreted this longing not as materialism, as some reviewers have stated, but as a desire for safety—and the silliness of class divisions. After all, Marchpane is a refined and expensive doll, whereas Birdie is a "cheap" celluloid doll, but in the end, it is the latter who has true value. All in all, I'm glad to have read this one, even though it's not destined to become a personal favorite, and I would recommend it to readers who enjoy doll fiction.
If you have little girls who adore dolls and doll houses and setting up house for their dolls, they will relish this sweet little tale!
Tottie, Birdie, Mr. Plantaganet, Apple and their dog Darner are one happy, mixed match doll family, who belong to two sweet little girls who love them to pieces. The only thing that could make them happier is to have a house - a real, old-fashioned doll house - with a sampler couch, matching chairs, wallpapered walls and cozy beds.
This is their story, with some hardships, losses, and dreams fulfilled.
Illustrations by the talented Tasha Tudor!
Ages: 5 - 10
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The Dolls' House is about a group of dolls who all come together and are owned by two little girls, Emily and Charlotte. The main doll, Tottie, was the girls' Great-Great Aunt's and had been passed down to them. The other dolls that they have were all ones that were given to them. The dolls all want a doll house to live in, so when Emily and Charlotte recieve the house from their Great-Great Aunt, the dolls are happy. The girls' want to fix up the house, but don't have enough money to get what they want. At first they were going to get paid to show off Tottie in a doll exibition, but changed their minds and decided to lend her to the exibition. When Tottie is there, she sees the old doll that she used to live with back when she was owned by the Great-Great Aunt, Marchpane. Somebody figures out that Marchpane belonged to the same old house that Tottie did, so she is sent to live with Emily and Charlotte. When Marchpane gets to the house, she takes over and bosses all of the other dolls around. Emily starts to like her more than the other dolls, and eventually forgets about them. Soon after, Emily and Charlotte get a bad feeling about Marchpane, and send her off to a museum to live. This story follows the standards such as plot, setting, characterization, and point of view. The plot is easily understood and has a clear beggining, middle, and end. The setting is described multiple times as it changes. The doll house it described, the exibition is described and the shoe boxes that some of the dols had to live in were described. The characters would all described well and were given their own personality. The theme is compelling to the "real world" as well as the fantasy world because children can relate to getting new toys and pushing old ones away and then realizing how much they missed their old toys. The elements that make the story a fantasy are convincing. Many children probably think that their dolls have their own little world and that when they aren't looking they do whatever they want. I think that this conceot is not too far fetched and that children can relate to it. The author does maintain a sense of logic with the created world. Everything that would happen in regular life does in Emily and Charlotte's lives. There is nothing out of the ordinary that happens that wouldn't make sense. I enjoyed reading this book, although it did take me awhile to actually get into it. The beginning is a little slow but once the plot starts to deepen it is a good book to read. I think that the way the author portrayed the girls at the end was consistent of how children act in real life. When they get a new toy, they push the other ones off to the side and put all of their time and attention into the new toy. In the classroom, I would use this book to teach children that every toy or doll they have is special and that just because you get something new, does not mean that you have to forget about your other toys. I could relate this to friends as well and tell them that even if they make new friends, they shouldn't forget about the ones that they had before and should always remember them.
One of my favorites from childhood. The theme that beautiful doesn't always equal good or kind is an important one to learn, and the lesson of self-sacrifice took my breath away when I first read the ending as a child. I couldn't believe what had happened! Part of me felt loss and wished that the author hadn't let that happen; the other part of me realized that it made sense and was actually beautiful though sad.
I knew this mainly from the television version, only watched on broadcast when I was about ten but it was so vivid - especially THAT scene - you can’t forget it. It’s good to see the book is equally as dark - Marchpane must be one of the all time great fictional villains, malevolent and cruel and self important and utterly remorseless. Godden gives her a punishment, but is also such a good writer that Marchpane never notices this and somehow thinks she’s being given special treatment. Birdie’s fate is just one of the most devastating things in all children’s literature, all the more so because she never really understands her fate and is her usual innocent childlike self to the very end. It’s a very dark book, but necessarily so, and I think Godden is trying to teach children that caring for toys and how you play with them will, in time, reflect how you act as adults. There’s more of Godden’s love of literal world building here, but there’s a really sad side to the dolls’ internal world: ageless, powerless, seeing their owners come and go, neglected… these are strong messages for kids, and kind of unflinching. Tough to read but true testament to the sort of writer Godden was
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I have decided to do a series of posts on books I enjoyed as a child, timeless classics I enjoyed time and time again. I want to share these with others so that hopefully they can find the magic that I did in these stories.
When I was young, a book I kept coming back to was The Dolls' House, by Rumer Godden. I think my dad originally read it to me, but I remember reading it to myself time and time again. It is a wonderful book, because there are many books where children's toys come alive, but not many where you come to feel so much for the characters, to feel like they are real people, and to remember them like you remember old friends, always glad to come back to them. This is the way I feel about this book. I only wish I still had it so I could read it again, but I think it's been passed on to some other children. I hope all it's future owners enjoy it as much as I did.
The Doll's House is the story of a family of dolls who lack a house. Tottie, Mr Plantaganet, Birdie, Apple, and the dog, Darner, live in a shoebox, and are the beloved toys of two little girls called Emily and Charlotte. Tottie is a hundred years old or so (I can't remember exactly) and belonged to the girl's great-great aunt, and she remembers the doll house she once lived in. One day, the doll house is discovered in an attic and is sent to the girls. They and the dolls love it and clean it and make it habitable, they move in, and everything seems perfect. Then comes Marchpane. She used to live in the house along with Tottie and she is beautiful, very expensive and very evil. She begins to turn their joy into misery.
The story really draws you in, and you feel the doll's joy and pain. I liked how it was written so that the younger girl, Charlotte, still senses what the dolls want and like with that kind of intuition to the thoughts of toys and animals that children often have in books, while Emily, who is growing older, is losing touch with what the dolls feel, and is won over by the beautiful and scheming Marchpane, who uses Emily to help her take over the dollhouse.
The ending is a little sad, but I think that this is a wonderfully imaginative book and a true classic for kids to read!
And the moral of this toy story is: If you're beautiful and absolutely, positively, so full of yourself, you can treat others however you want, be as thoughtless, narcissistic, selfish and rude as you want, and you will be rewarded with all you've always wished for, even if you've literally committed murder.
'The Doll's House' has a few cute and charming moments, but it's mostly about how that dollhouse is remade after decades in the loft, and how the two little girls, Emily and Charlotte, go about it all, and I got bored. There isn't really a plot to speak of; as Homer Simpson would say, "It's just a bunch of stuff that happens." I liked some of the characters, even though the dolls do come across as ungrateful and demanding of their young owners, but I especially do not like Tottie, the main doll. She is meant to be old, wise, gentle and calm, but she comes across as self-righteous, pushy, bossy and unfeeling.
The book can be read in a day, it is a very simple and fast read. But the narrative is largely condescending to its target audience; explaining what certain words mean, even words that a toddler would know, repeating established facts over and over again, actually telling the reader what to remember, what page to remember when things had happened, and what the characters are like, over and over again, and why the reader should care, etc. There is a reason why good children's authors don't do this anymore. At least I hope none of them would even think of doing it nowadays. I keep saying: Show, don't tell, and respect your audience's intelligence.
Not a pleasant and satisfying read, I'm afraid. I might have been more forgiving of its major flaws if it weren't for that ending, with its unfortunate implications. Recommended only if you're looking to read every example of classic children's literature ever. Don't expect much here.
Final Score: 0.5/5
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
She liked to think sometimes of the tree of whose wood she was made, of its strength and the sap that ran through it and made it bud and put out leaves every spring and summer, that kept it standing through the winter storms and winds. "A little, a very little, of that tree is in me," said Tottie. "I am a little of that tree."
I used to love this book when I was younger, and yet every time it came into my head (as it tends to do - it sticks with you) I was seized by an inexplicable dread. I remembered it being a far darker and more powerful book than its outward appearance would suggest.
So, naturally, when I finally found it boxed away in my old bedroom, I was keen to re-read it. I expected to like it, because of the strong nostalgia attached to it, but I also expected it not to be as good as I remembered, because that tends to happen when you revisit things you loved as a child. I was wrong. If anything, it's better than I remembered.
Tottie is a beautiful, melancholy little book. It is nowhere near as sweet and harmless as the blurb and the simple writing style suggests: the language is simplistic, but there's some starkly lovely prose, and it does not hold back when it comes to just how much it would really suck to be a doll:
Dolls are hurt and abused and lost; and when this happens dolls cannot speak, nor do anything except be hurt and abused and lost.
The darker elements build throughout the story, up to the final sequence, which is altogether as tense as any thriller, heartbreakingly sad, and still a punch in the gut, no matter how many times I read it. It's a brilliant children's book: perhaps this is the nostalgia talking, but it's a brilliant book, full stop.
“It is an anxious, sometimes a dangerous thing to be a doll. Dolls cannot choose; they can only be chosen; they cannot 'do'; they can only be done by” . . . I much preferred teddy bears to dolls as a child. Dolls had those eyes that click clacked from side to side and followed you around a room. Horrifying…..
And The Dolls House, a twisted little children’s tale from Rumer Godden, would have in no way endeared them to me. At the heart of this story presides Marchpane. She might be dressed in frills and flounces but there is no heart in her body made of bone china
Cuckoo like, she moves into the doll’s house lovingly made for Tottie Plantagenet and her doll family. Marchpane bends the household to her will until she breaks it. Tottie and the human child Emily can see what is really happening but are powerless to prevent it proving that dolls and sometimes children cannot do but must be done by
A deceptively simple tale about families, but like all of my favourite children’s books, this has shade to offset the light…
When I was young, I had an inexpensive dollhouse, metal, with furniture and features painted on its walls. It was furnished with plastic furniture. I loved to play with it. I loved dolls and I loved anything in miniature. When my children were young, my father built a beautiful, wooden dollhouse for them (and me!). We furnished it with as many accessories as we could afford. I read The Dolls' House as a child. I read it to my children. And I have just reread it. It is an enduring story, enriched by my own experiences with dolls and dollhouses.
Reread in a collection. I don't remember much about the first read; I think because it's such an unsatisfactory story. The dolls are materialistic and not appreciative of the children; the villain gets no punishment, and the sweetest doll dies. I suppose it's all very metaphoric and all; Godden is a [L]iterary writer, after all, but it just sits wrong in my heart. And doll house stories should be about joy, not weighty worldly affairs.
A special book. Both happiness and sadness within. Tootie, a wooden farthing doll, is wise and kind. The observes the other dollhouse dolls and also the human children who have human foibles. This is the edition illustrated by Tasha Tudor.
I purchased this book on whim at the local AAUW book sale in 2019. I was originally attracted to the cover/title, but then noticed the price sticker which mentioned it was signed. What a bonus! I thought. Then saw that it was signed by the illustrator. I shrugged and bought it anyway for the first reason. I just now got around to reading it and discovered a sweet story about a family of dolls, the two girls who play with them, and the doll's house they inherit. Even the Queen makes a short appearance! There is a haughty doll that has history with the oldest of the doll family that causes some friciton. But truly what makes this book a treasure are the illustrations. After mentioning this book online in a bookclub, many folks commented not only on the author but on the illustrator, whose sketches are detailed but sweet and simple. I loved them and thought they made an excellent embellishment to this edition 20 years after its original publication.
Girls have the mothers' instinct in their blood to nurse a doll, the instinct to create the comfortable home ambiance, be it a special doll house or a house built from all the chairs you can get and that you have to return at a dinnertime.
I liked the story, but it was a little long and emotionally unrelatable to be a perfect bedtime story. Maybe if I read it while I was at school, this would be my favorite book. Well, we'll never know.
P.S. I wonder if this book gave the plot idea for the Toy Story.