Book 87: The Mennyms, by Sylvia Waugh

By the end of the first sentence I was confirmed in my sneaking suspicion that I had read this book before but just didn't remember the title. But Noah said that didn't count, so I read it again. I'm quite glad I did because it's a pretty good book, and I reckon this time around I was more aware of the character and relationship aspects of the tale than when I read it before.

First off, though, a note to Noah: don't read this book. You won't like it. In fact I'm not even sure if you'll like the review... and the reason is that it's a story all about life-size, bafflingly sentient, cloth-and-stuffing rag dolls. They even have button eyes (to which frequent reference is made). Naturally these beings - and especially blue-faced Soobie - find it difficult to mingle with the other residents of their town, instead electing to do everything by post and telephone (I think the internet would have had quite an impact on their mode of existence). All is well - until the letter arrives. It comes from Albert Pond, an Australian who has recently inherited ownership of the house they rent, and who is struck with a desire to visit England and to stay with his tenants. Boots, umbrellas, hoods and sunglasses serve as sufficient foils to recognition when out and about, but how can the Mennym family possibly avoid detection if a human being comes to stay? And then, in the very midst of this consternation, Soobie makes a deeply disturbing discovery up in the attic.

Raising questions about sentience, souls, God and creation, as well as issues of family, relationship and maturity, this was an enjoyable and compelling story with plenty in it to discuss. The only effect of having read it several years ago was a constant dim awareness of what was about to happen - and I honestly can't say whether that spoiled the story or not.