Notes, Notings, and Common Refrains

Warning: this sighing, shuddering, and kvetching is all about how a good book resolves its conflects with a (to me) soul-killing ending. So I will be spoilering it.

Found this book listed in my local library's catalog: House of Dolls, Francesca Lia Block (Harper, 2010), and since that's the genre I'm currently trying to tackle, I put a hold on it; Audrey dropped it off for me yesterday, and I read it in one sitting.*

And, well...

"Never has" is a phrase that stomps through the mind with two-ton lead boots, quashing all memory of past experience, but I'm sore tempted to use it here:
Never has such a finely-crafted work of literature
left me so depressed and demoralized.

I was not depressed by the dark themes of war, or grief, or living in fear of a fickle and jealous being you cannot control. I was ... confused (?) and slightly disturbed by the overt sexual overtones in a book aimed at pre-pubescent girls:

(Quote): "The first time Madison Blackberry lay them down next to each other in the white lace canopy bed and their arms brushed, Wildflower and Guy knew they never wanted to be seperated." (unquote)

But hey, I know that girls growing up in this generation are a lot more aware of sex and sexual pressures at nine than I ever was, so it makes sense that a girl of that age would play that out with her dolls. So that didn't depress me (much) either.

And I really liked how the author brought the dolls to life: Definitely Level 4: fully alive toys... at least, within the world of their Edwardian (?) dollhouse (built by a great grandfather for the grandmother) -- the dolls can even open and read all the books in the vast library (and the collection of Life Magazines from the 1970s), even though no human would have been able to make books that small with turnable pages and print.

And I liked the mix of dolls in the house: two from the Grandmother's time (a celluloid fashion doll, and a fairy doll) and three from the present day: (a small ragdoll with a wire poseable body, a G.I. Joe type doll, and a small jointed teddy bear). That sort of odd collection is how doll families come together.

Also, the author wrote in the Omniscienct Narrator voice really well, without a single wink or nod to the Reader, but quietly, in the background, so what you really noticed was the story, not the Author.

No, what did did depress me is how all this complexity and deep themes got resolved: with pretty dress (handmade by Grandmother) and Mother staying home to Be With Her Children (While Father is a strong, protective shadow in the doorway) for the human protagonist. And for the dolls: with pretty dresses, sex with boyfriends, and a baby in the cradle.

That's what it's all reduced to? That's the world we're painting for our nine-year old girls?

One Hundred Years Ago, E. Nesbit contributed to the Suffregette movement by writing ten-year old girl protagonists who wanted to grow up and explore the Antartic. And now, we're writing girls who want nothing more than a long silk gown, a War Hero Boyfriend (to play the hurt/comfort game with), and a baby??!

That's depressing.

*Granted, it's a slim volume, of small dimensions and wide borders to the pages (I guestimate < 9,000 words, since there are illustrations, too).

Short biography of Margarete Steiff

The facts of her life are fascinating, and make me want to add her to the guest list of my fantasy Space/Time dinner party. This narrative of her life is problematic.

(Quote) Margarete was a very lively, well-built child and led a carefree life until she became ill with polio at the early age of 1½. She was destined never to walk and to be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. (unquote)

::Facepalm:: Here we go with the "innocent victim" Disability-Narrative (sigh). And I trust I don't have to explain to my regular readers why "confined to a wheelchair" is full of fail -- right?

(and "well-built"? Really? oy.)

Shall we continue?

(quote) Her mother, above all, found this very difficult to bear. She would have to care for her daughter for as long as she lived. Her daughter would never be able to take on the role of housewife and mother and, at the time, it seemed as though she had absolutely no prospects for the future (Unquote)

Okay, now we're into the Disabled-as-unfair-burden-on-the-Able-bodied Narrative. (Sigh)

But it doesn't end there (snipping a bit):

(Quote) She spent her free time playing with the other children whenever possible. Margarete was a creative inventor of new games. She was always having new ideas and organized the games in such a way that she could take part.

In doing this, one of her natural gifts became evident, one that was to help her a great deal in the years to come: Margarete had a way of telling people what had to be done in a manner that made them want to do what she said. (unquote)

Now, we've got the Disabled-as-emotional-manipulator narrative.

It's that last one that I'd particularly like to translate. How about this, instead?

"Margarete Steiff was a creative and intelligent woman who learned, early in life, to be an effective self-advocate for her own independence."

There. That's better.

Still, since this is a dedicated "Teddy Bear" site, I suppose they'd be tempted to play up the childish aspects (Victim, spunky, inspirational, manipulative) of her personality even if she hadn't had a disability.