'What Katy Did' by Susan Coolidge

Twelve-year-old Katy is constantly making and quickly breaking resolutions about how she will change her ways and treat others, especially her five younger brothers and sisters, with more respect and compassion. When Katy meets her Cousin Helen, an invalid, Katy is awed by her kindness, prettiness, and generosity. Katy is determined to become more like Helen, a resolution that lasts only a few hours. Soon, however, Katy gets a chance to become more like cousin Helen than she ever wished as she finds herself confined to her bedroom for four years as a result of an accident.

MY THOUGHTS: 

Caution: Very minor plot spoilers about halfway down. 

I'm currently re-reading many of the beloved old childhood and YA classics on my shelf, and haven't cracked open the covers of some of them for decades. What a treat books such as this one are, as if someone from a bygone era is extending some goodness and wisdom forward through the decades, even centuries, to cheer us up. 

This book introduces the original and unruly Carr family. Doctor Philip Carr is a widower with six kids, Katy, Clover, Elsie, Dorry, Johnnie and Phil. This book focuses on the eldest sister Katy, who is messy, curious, bold and sociable. She has great intentions to be a useful and dependable person, but her impulsive, boisterous nature keeps sabotaging her. Then in one split second she suffers a serious accident, as a consequence of her own rebellious action. Katy faces a long recovery period in her bedroom, flat on her back for a good portion of it. 

The poor girl is devastated and in great pain, feeling at the age of 12 as if the best of life must have passed her by. Yet there is not much she can do but take each day as it comes. Little by little, it becomes clear that the trial itself is smoothing down Katy's rough edges and helping her to become the person she aimed to be when she kept falling short of the mark she set. She still has her passionate nature, but without the mobility to please herself each moment, it's easier to direct her good intentions in purposeful ways that may benefit others. Nothing encourages productive thought more than enforced reflection time. 

There are many instances of how small, everyday pleasures, such as a pretty dressing gown, tasty snack or neat bedroom, may make a far greater impact than their modest nature may suggest. Also loads of excellent supporting characters, including the perpetual invalid, Cousin Helen, who intentionally chooses a bright and merry attitude until it's second nature. This young woman spreads sunshine through the pages. There's good Aunt Izzie, who devotes her life to helping her widower brother with his kids, and is taken for granted all round until the crunch comes. And wistful, left-out younger sister Elsie, who feels as if she fits nowhere. (This little girl stirs me most.)

Okay, I have one major gripe with the premise on which the whole plot hinges. I find it super implausible that Aunt Izzie wouldn't have mentioned the problem with the swing. She says, 'That swing is not to be used until tomorrow. Remember that, children. Not till tomorrow. And not then, unless I give you leave.' The narrator goes on to explain that Miss Izzie Carr expected compliance without needing to justify every order. But as a long-time homeschooling parent, I'm positive in real life Izzie would have added, 'Because the staple is broken.' It would have taken an extra split second and put undeniable weight behind the urgency for obedience.

Here are a few of the ways she could have added it.

'Alexander says the roof staple has come loose, so it'll be dangerous right now.' (About seven seconds.)

'It's damaged, so don't go near it.' (About three seconds.)

Or simply, 'It's broken.' (Barely more than a second.)

 I appeal to all parents, teachers, care-givers, older siblings and baby sitters. Would you have dreamed of holding back the vital information that the swing is broken? In fact, I think it would have rolled off her tongue so naturally, it would have taken more effort not to say it.     

But I guess Susan Coolidge thought she had no other option for her story to work the way she wanted it to. The only alternative would be that Aunt Izzie does explain why, but Katy doesn't hear any of it, in which case the all-important willful disobedience theme is shattered. And then the adults would be culpable for not making extra sure everyone hears the vital instructions. I can't see how Coolidge could have written the story other than as she did, but it really doesn't sit well with me.

What I do love are descriptions such as this one of Katy's bureau drawer. 'All sorts of things were mixed together as if someone had put in a long stick and stirred them all up. There were books and paint boxes, and bits of scribbled paper and lead pencils and brushes. Stocking legs had come unrolled and twisted themselves about pocket handkerchiefs, ends of ribbon and linen collars. Ruffles all crushed out of shape stuck up from under the heavier things, and sundry little paper boxes lay empty on top, the treasures they once held having sifted down to the bottom of the drawer and disappeared beneath the general mass.' Hmm, I've never seen anything like that! Have you?    

I hope I haven't been describing this book as if it's some moralistic, nineteenth century hammer, because there's far too much mischievous movement, flashes of humour, and raw honesty for that. None of the Carr children are goody-two-shoes, least of all Katy. I've decided Susan Coolidge is a great addition to my list of bad-mood busting authors, which is steadily growing. 

Stick around, because I'll soon be adding my thoughts about the rest of this series. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟½

PS, Maybe Aunt Izzie had already explained about the broken swing to the younger siblings several times, and Katy came in just in time to hear one more directive without the reason added to it. That could be more plausible, but I suspect I'm now way over-thinking this and had better stop.