I’ve decided I have problems with books about dolls. I don’t know why that might be, I’ve never had any issues in real life with dolls but it’s true, just the same.
I found The Friendship Doll really interesting, and I almost got a little weepy when a little girl died who I didn’t expect to die. And I really loved the Mrs. Roosevelt part and the Alzheimer’s ending. I also found myself looking up more information about the real Friendship Dolls from Japan.
But.
The book troubled me. Much the way Hitty: Her First Hundred Years troubled me, I guess (it’s been so long since I read it, but yea, like that.) Some underlying angst about the story. I don’t know.
It’s me, not the book. The book was good. I promise. (Unless you have doll issues like I apparently have?)