Finished reading a masterful, enrapturing, yet controversial classic of Christian children’s literature: Elsie Dinsmore, the 1868 first of the staggering twenty-eight volume series by Martha Finley.

Today’s apologists often say the Bible tells a love story between God and mankind, to which I usually think, Oh, brother! Can it get more sappy, can there be any way to drain Christianity of all substance, than that?

Elsie Dinsmore, though, gives me pause. It is a young Christian girl’s life as a moving, sometimes painful, sometimes achingly beautiful love story. Jesus is Elsie’s refuge and strength. Yet, critics miss how incredibly humane the story is: however solid her religious faith, she still longs for her father’s love, and won’t be wholly happy unless he grows to love her.

Why did I chase down this forgotten gem? Two bad reviews. I first heard of the books when a (not entirely sympathetic) character mentions them derisively in Emily Climbs (1925), by L. M. Montgomery. Then, in looking at the recent editions available (thankfully, there are several, mine is the gorgeous hardcover by Mantle Ministries; be aware there is only the one illustration within though), found this negative review, from Christian bookseller Exodus Books! https://www.exodusbooks.com/elsie-dinsmore/7457/ Since this review is one of the first results I and others find while searching the books, why not frame my own review around answering their objections?

”Children’s novels of the time were often maudlin, involving perfect little angels whose motivations were always pure and who refused to do anything wrong, even when their health depended on it. Little Elsie puts them all to shame. At one point, she gets blamed for ruining some stuff when in fact it was her Uncle Arthur [ a boy just two years older] who did so. Though her father is about to beat her for the infraction, Elsie will not tell him who is actually guilty (thinking that a sin), and is only saved at the last minute by another relative who saw everything. The absurdity of such ’piety‘ is overwhelming…”

Fresh from reading the St. Clare’s books by Enid Blyton, I have a ready reply. Elsie is moved to avoid all sin, but her sense of right and wrong isn’t limited to heeding divine commands: in positively refusing to be a telltale, she shows she has a profound sense of honor, too. I don’t imagine she would fare well at St. Clare’s—where the girls imbibe that the rules are essentially guidelines to help them develop sound moral judgment—but Elsie gains the same virtues at an earlier age by being utterly scrupulous.

One thing I realize now, that I might not have recognized had I read Elsie Dinsmore when I was nearer her age—the title heroine is eight when the story opens—is that she is NOT an unrealistic character; she just seems that way, since most readers will find her harder to relate to than an Anne Shirley. But even Anne’s world has at least one such character (Dora, in Anne of Avonlea), and I have seen enough to know that such people really exist, too. Montgomery opined somewhere that such well-behaved children don’t make good leads, to which Elsie stands in striking contradiction.

If Elsie seems perfect by a very early age, it is for reasons I think everyone will be able to relate to, on thinking about it. She lost her mother a week after her birth, and was raised by a pious Scotch woman until a couple of years before, when she moved to the Dinsmore estate, the Old South plantation Roselands. She endures coldness from her grandfather, and hostility from his second wife and some of her children. Her constant friend is her mammy Chloe, whom her mother entrusted to rear to love Jesus as she did. Already an avid reader who takes refuge in the world of books, the Bible is her favorite, which she reads every day (including reading to Chloe, who is illiterate). The rest of the family go to church on Sunday, too, but do not even consider themselves Christians. In these circumstances, it’s understandable she not only finds solace in Scripture, but asserts her dignity by positively refusing to sin or to compromise. The story is told for younger readers, but perceptive adults will find much food for thought in the situation the storytelling subtly reveals.

A good example, early on, is her refusal to tear out a page from her copybook when it gets blotted with ink after Arthur pesters her (5; the book is judged for neatness and penmanship as well as correct answers). She views this as a dishonest cheat, does not want to rat on Arthur, and… is following the teaching of Jesus on the Sermon on the Mount, and His example in taking up His cross. “And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him two.” By silently taking blame she does not deserve, she is prodding Arthur’s conscience. It is surprising to me that some Christians don’t think Elsie a good example, even if it is an example so formidable we fear to insist on it.

Elsie’s holiness, love of Bible reading, and prayer life, note well, don’t mean she isn’t very much a little girl. She loves playing outside, spending time with her friends, and sweets. She even has one delicious penchant adults will relate to better: at eight or nine, she loves coffee! When her father, Horace Dinsmore, absent in Europe all her life so far, finally returns to Roselands and meets her, not only is he cold, he has severe notions of how a child should be raised: no candy, no hot buttered rolls, no meat before dinner… and no coffee! One of the great delights of the novel is the line, “for she was extremely fond of coffee, and it was something of a trial to give it up,” (72; he later relents to some degree). Which brings us to an even graver objection from Exodus Books:

“Far more disturbing, however, is Elsie’s relationship to her father. She basically idolizes him, and is frequently described as longing for his kind words, his embraces, his kisses… [here is a spoiler I wish they had left out]. There’s nothing wrong with fathers kissing their daughters, obviously, but the way Finley describes their interactions borders on the highly inappropriate (at the very least, embarrassing). Also, when she is (presumably) happily married, she continues to defer to her father’s will and wisdom rather than her husband’s.”

Is there something borderline erotic about Elsie and her father? After months of him treating her icily, I can tell you, it is gratifying when they become warmer, and that should not be surprising. Yet… I think Exodus Books has hit on something. She is precociously beautiful, he is still young and handsome. They exchange miniature paintings of each other. When he grows to love her, he is jealous that she openly loves Jesus more. A bit more surprising, by the time the story closes, Mr. Dinsmore has a suitor, and Elsie is jealous! And in general, the degree of Elsie’s obedience to her father, excepting when he tells her to violate the law of God, is difficult to fathom unless the most passionate kind of love underlies her compliance. Near the end, I was just aggrieved that he was angry she was sitting on the floor (when playing with other children; 289). To be sure, we have to keep in mind that he is educating Elsie to be a Southern belle, ladylike to a fault and impeccable in social situations. But, I wonder that Elsie not only obeys her father, but always affirms that his commands are wise. To return to Jesus, the “lilies of the field” model flies in the face of caring about what other people idly think to the extent of swearing off sitting on the floor when it suits her! When she evangelizes her (techically Aunt) Lora, she recalls the Bible verse reminding us that we should always be ready to give reason for our hope. Yet, she goes along with her father’s insistence she never demand a reason she should obey him (289). Is Mr. Dinsmore higher than God? Frankly, the demands he makes on Elsie are appalling, and should be rejected… unless it is in the name of a love of the highest order.

Eros, the pursuit of a higher reality through earthly symbols, is at work here, and makes this book intriguing for the adult reader. The connection between a child’s relationship with God, and with his or her birth father, has often been observed, so it is fitting that Elsie, who loves Jesus like no one else around her, has an uncommonly close relationship with her daddy. They do nothing wrong together (this is a 19th century children’s book after all), yet this is as much a love story as a romance novel, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong or un-Christian about that. If anything, it makes the story unique and of much broader interest than as moral example for girls to read for instruction.

Speaking of morals, Elsie Dinsmore wears its Calvinism heavily at times. Most of the passages where Elsie opens the Bible for us are just uplifting, but I just felt pained when Lora asks Elsie how to become a Christian. Lora instinctively asks again ans again, “What must I do?”, and gets the answer, “Only believe,” (146). Her good will is turned back in favor of relying on God’s sovereignty. How much more understanding a Catholic approach might have been: even though unnecessary for salvation, Elsie might have told Lora that our desire to make a return of God’s goodness, and atone for our sins, is good, and shown her devotions she could have practiced to grow in her faith.

And finally, as I touched on before, readers will never understand Elsie treating her as a cutout Christian model, rather than as an alternative girls’ story heroine. Thinking about it, she is surprisingly Anneish, only the things Anne has to strive for, she is born to. She goes out riding daily, relishes wearing fine clothes, loves both books and being in nature, and does it while sticking out like a Kindred Spirit amongst mean-spirited conformists. One more lovely passage is when Elsie discovers a hummingbird trapped under a glass vase in the woods, and frees it (148-149). Amidst all the Bible quotes, you can miss what a role compassion plays in her moral compass.

THIS I would have loved to see, were the chronology right, a visit from Anne to Roselands, and her impressions of Elsie, and Elsie’s of Anne. Who is more Christian, who is more overman: The feisty girl—the fire Christ wishes were already burning—who insists on following her own genius, and only submits when treated as an equal? Or the docile girl—Beatitude humility herself—who is obedient in everything she doesn’t know to be wrong, for the sake of love? THAT would be a fruitful conversation. Anne has a reputation for being misunderstood by the world, but on reading this, the Elsies among the Kindred Spirits may be even less recognized or understood. May we the more appreciate them for what they are.

Next in the series, Elsie’s Holidays at Roselands (1868). Don’t know when I will get to reading it. #MarthaFinley #ElsieDinsmore #honor #love #eros #incest #fathers #daughters #docility #discipline #OldSouth #Antebellum #South #kindredspirits #christianfiction #Christianity #Christian #childrensliterature #childrensbooks #literature #books