As an adult reader who grew up on Rumer Godden’s “Miss Happiness and Miss Flower” and “Little Plum,” and Rachel Field’s “Hitty: Her First Hundred Years,” I had a lot of fun reading this book. I'm not so sure how many modern children will, though, unless they're very good readers with a lot of patience for both talking dolls and adult points of view.
There’s a lot here for the right reader to love. Ten-year-old Tiph, who has just moved to a new town and whose squabbling parents are too caught up in their grown-up concerns (a baby in diapers, a still-un-toilet-trained toddler with medical challenges and speech delays, money, and debates about whether or not to have another child) to pay much attention to her or realize just how lonely she is. Neni Szilvia, the grumpy old lady who hires Tiph to walk her dog while she recovers from surgery, and eventually becomes exactly the kind of attentive, non-judgmental, dollhouse-loving, toast-and-tea (or spiced cocoa!)-making substitute grandmother Tiph really needs. The loud-voiced teacher at school who recognizes Tiph's acting talent and promotes it. The step-aunt in California who is overwhelmed by the newborn twins her sister, Tiph’s stepmom Holly, covets--but is infinitely better at talking to a ten-year-old. The toy-store owner who doesn't like children but whose bark turns out to be just a little bit worse than his bite. Not to mention Loki, Neni Szilvia's bumbling bulldog, who doesn't bite anyone but comes to Tiph’s defense when she really needs it; Flosshilde, Szivia’s thoroughly arrogant and self-centered—or in other words, completely cat-like—cat; and of course the shy doll Gretel and the story of her blossoming friendship with the rambunctious Red, a Little Red Riding Hood doll who, unlike Gretel, has actually been played with, which makes her much less valuable to the toystore owner and his customers, but much more so to her new friend.
This is a very cozy and enjoyable book that I found deeply satisfying in many ways, but it does have some issues that I wish a friend or editor had persuaded the writer, Laura Amy Schlitz, to do something about before publishing. Tiph's parents have ridiculously high expectations for her and frustratingly low ones for themselves. What kind of adult responds to a child's willingly offered apology for a mildly rude outburst—no swearing, just a cry that maybe the reason Neni Szilvia didn’t gush over Tiph’s baby sister or Holly's muffins was because she didn’t like watching the baby drop food all over her floor, and the uber-healthy, unsweetened muffins taste “lousy”—by saying, "I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry you felt free to speak to me that way"? And then goes on to freeze the child out for days on end as "punishment"—something that apparently happens regularly enough that Tiph recognizes the pattern and knows what to expect? All this from a stepmother who, we’re supposed to believe, actually loves her stepdaughter dearly and is loved by her--and from her father, too? I’m no fan of the no-rules, whatever-the-little-darlings-want-to-do-goes style of modern parenting, but this disturbed me. I'd go as far as to call it borderline abusive.
I was almost as weirded out by Tiph's ongoing pattern of condemning herself for saying or thinking the most mildly "mean" things to or about her parents, when she’s a ten-year-old--and one who's expected to change diapers and babysit every day (for not one but two younger siblings), and at the same time somehow adjust to life in a new town and a new school where she doesn't have any friends. And it seemed beyond bizarre that her stepmother would lecture her for not having told an old lady she was only just beginning to be friends with about her mother’s long-ago death (which she doesn’t even remember), while also insisting that Tiph ought to be willing to work for the old lady for free, just to be helpful, and then becoming jealous of Tiph’s relationship with this woman and criticizing her to Tiph. Tiph's eventual realization that Holly is, in fact, jealous and her attempts to reassure her stepmother read as infinitely more mature than anything we see Holly doing, even once Holly finally graps the idea that getting to act in the school production of “The Wizard of Oz” matters enough to Tiph that Holly really should change her own plans and show up to watch her stepdaughter perform. So mature that I found it hard to buy, actually. I couldn't really picture any ten-year-old being able to understand what was bothering Holly, who is not someone new in her life that she's having to figure out for the first time, or to articulate to the only mother she’s ever known that she does in fact see her as her real mom and loves her as that. I would think it would be too big and too close to even begin to grapple with at that age, even with help from a wise old grandmother-figure like Neni Szilvia.
Tiph’s relationship with her stepmother and with Neni Szilvia are only part of this book, of course. Just as important is Tiph’s longing for the doll Gretel, and Gretel’s for her. When Tiph impulsively steals Gretel from the antique-toy store, her action sets off a plotline involving the angry shop owner, the thoughtful and observant Neni Szilvia, and Tiph’s own sense of herself—but it also sets up one about Gretel trying to cover up Tiph’s crime by escaping from her coat pocket and hiding in Neni Szilvia’s house, and then (with the help of Red, and Neni Szilvia’s cat and dog) to find a way to reunite with her without getting her in trouble. This part of the story is charming at times, and is intricately worked into the main plot and essential to its resolution, but it does make the story much longer than books for this age group typically are, and it tends to feel as if it were written for a much younger audience than the main storyline—an audience that isn’t too old for dolls, doesn’t mind reading the same actions and dialogue twice (once from Tiph’s point of view and then again from Gretel’s), and doesn’t care that the magical elements in the dolls’ behavior are at times wildly inconsistent. (Gretel seems to know a lot of things about human behavior that she shouldn’t have been able to observe from the box in a closet where she has spent her life; she and Red can move and talk and feel hunger, but can’t actually eat; they can create imaginary staircases in imaginary parts of a dollhouse and climb them, but they can't move around human-sized stairs or furniture the same way, and need a cord to climb or a cat willing to pick them up and carry them.)
In spite of the carefully constructed connections between the dolls’ story and Tiph’s, I can’t help wondering if this book wouldn’t have worked better as two shorter, separate books aimed at different age groups, rather than the single long one it is. But I still thoroughly enjoyed reading it, and am happy to give it a permanent place on my shelves.