The Changeling

Writing a review for this treasured volume from my childhood seems impossible. Since first making the attempt, I have spent hours staring at the blank screen in front of me, have begun in a hundred different ways - "Some books aren't books at all, but mirrors..." / "Zilpha Keatley Snyder may not know it, but she wrote this book about me..." - but have always ended with the same admission of failure, with the same deletion of whatever facile comments I had typed, whatever little bits of text I had produced - text that had inevitably failed to capture the terrible beauty and power of The Changeling, its strange and elusive appeal, its unshakable hold on me. I am haunted by this book, and although I pride myself on being able to articulate show more even the most difficult of thoughts and emotions, I find it impossible to say why. Just as it once saved me, this seemingly simple children's novel now defeats me. Again and again. I am too close to it, perhaps...

I grew up in a beautiful old house on a hill, with a rundown old carriage house behind it, where my sisters and I were wont to play in younger days. A dreamer, always, I lived in my own world, dividing my time between the pages of whatever book I was devouring, and my imaginary (year-round) outdoor games. Naturally, I had a country of my own - ironically, given my childhood ignorance of the word "arcane," it was named Arcania - with its own intricate history, customs and culture. I spent hours creating the Arcanian language, and crafting its script (sadly, all lost to me today), with its superfluity of vowel forms. Arcania was my retreat and my stronghold, in a world that was beginning - just as I was starting to search for meaning in it - to make no sense, and was as real to me as anything I experienced in my more mundane, "workday" life.

No author has ever captured - for me - that reality of the imaginary, that power of childhood make-believe, with the same skill as Zilpha Keatly Snyder, in The Changeling. The story of two very different young girls - shy crybaby Martha, so worried about fitting in with her successful family, and wildly idiosyncratic Ivy Carson, daughter of the town's local criminal element - whose friendship is the salvation of both, it perfectly embodies one of the key realities of my own childhood: the role of imagination, and of the internal world, in creating a safe place in a decidedly unsafe existence. Like Ivy and Martha, whose created world was known as Green Sky - a world that Snyder would later use, in creating her brilliant dystopian Green Sky trilogy (Below the Root, And All Between, Until the Celebration) - I too enacted a complicated series of rituals and plays surrounding my imagined world. Like them, this had extraordinary meaning for me, and is, to this day, terribly precious to me.

One of my favorite works of literature, of ANY kind, The Changeling is a book that has become entwined with my memories of my childhood, to the point that I cannot separate it out. I have lived in this book, as surely as Ivy and Martha did, and while I wouldn't venture to guarantee that it will speak to every young reader as it did (and does) to me, can readily attest to the fact that every word in it is true. show less

I never read any of Zilpha Keatley Snyder's books until the night my daughter's chosen bedtime story from our pile of library books was The Egypt Game. And we didn't look back. Then, as now in The Changeling, Snyder's ability to capture the nuance of children's imaginative play continues to astound me. Her insights reveal the dynamics of children's perspectives on life, what kids talk about, and above all, how they make friends.

The Changeling was never a book I discovered until I was buying "Zilpha's books" (as we affectionately call them) for my grandchildren and only recently discovered this gem of a story. So I read about Martha and Ivy and was amazed how much resonated with my childhood, my daughter's and now my grandchildren.

Ivy show more and Martha, living in very different family circumstances, are the main focus ~ layered over the time immemorial context of their school's flawed social hierarchy. This school socialization versus individuality of students is so deeply timeless. Zilpha's story effectively nails family and social difficulties philosophically, emotionally, and certainly with an enchantment that children and teens will immediately grasp.

I didn't award the 5-stars which I really felt the book deserved because, (perhaps as an adult) it seemed the deeply intricate and detailed play in 'Bent Oaks' took a tad too much time in the midst of the very distressing problems our MC's were having with real life. Those imaginative theatricals were very important in the story, but at times, Martha's family dysfunction and later, the Ivy-Martha angst with bullies like Kelly, disrupted the story tension.

In my view, these family and kid issues seemed a more urgent narrative to move the story forward. Still and all, a book like this deserves a 'highly recommended' status. And personally, it so deeply resonated with my inner self, even as an older adult, in a way that I still can't quite analyze. show less

This is not a book about a changeling. The book is deliberately misleading, and readers find out why towards the end. I'm okay with this. I read this book when I was eight or nine, and marveled at it. More than twenty years later, I picked it up again. I was curious to learn if it would have the same effect on me. I had forgotten a lot of it, actually. The story is about the friendship between Martha and Ivy. Martha comes from a family with high expectations, high achievers, and strict gender roles. As a child, she is chubby, cries a lot and doesn't like being a Girl Scout. She does not feel a sense of belonging in her own family. Ivy is a respite from all that. She, too, is a misfit in her own family. Creative, imaginative, confident show more and daring, she is nonetheless constrained by her family's circumstances. They're often on the run from the law, but come back to Martha's town every two years. They own a house there. Ivy's mom is an alcoholic. Her dad has a ton of bad luck in life. Her siblings are following in her parents' footsteps. Ivy's rich imagination helps her cope. Her friendship with Martha helps both girls immensely. Much of the book is dedicated to the games of make believe Ivy and Martha immerse themselves in. This takes a wonderful turn into them doing theater and dance in middle school. And then the plot shows up in the form of the antagonist, Kelly. Regina George is a descendant of hers, in movie form. My heart warmed at how Tom, Martha's star quarterback brother, stood up for his sister and was rightfully cold to Kelly. This was near the book's end, and I welcomed it. I laughed at some of it, delighted. The actual ending was predictable in some ways. I'm glad I read it as an adult now. show less

Martha and Ivy are two girls whose lives couldn't be more different. Martha is the misfit daughter of a prominent and successful family who, unable to find a place for herself in their high-achieving world, spends her time daydreaming and crying when confronted. Ivy comes from a family of drunks, delinquents and criminals, but spent her early childhood living with her aunt, who introduced her to magic and wonder. When the two meet at age seven, their creativity and imagination make them fast friends despite their backgrounds. Their friendship proves to be a buoy for them both as they grow to high school age, helping them to overcome challenges and separations until at last they realize their dreams.

Zilpha Keatley Snyder was a wonderful show more children's writer who knew the power of imagination and how freeing it could be for kids who feel disconnected from the people and places around them. But she never forgets the real friendship that underlies the tales. It's the friendship between the girls, strengthened by their years developing the fantasy stories of the Tree People, that allow them to mature into people who will never be conventional but will be able to thrive in the world. show less

One of my very favorite children's books. Martha - a shy, withdrawn girl - befriends her next door neighbor, Ivy, who is anything but quiet. They grow up together, their friendship shifting and changing and ultimately fracturing over the years, but with the glue of Ivy's imagination always bringing them together. A lightly fantastical book, similar to but far better than (and written before) "Bridge to Terabithia." As always, Snyder has a great grasp on how children think, and the 'message' doesn't overpower the story. Also notable for having spawned Snyder's "Below the Root" series, which appears here as one of Ivy's imaginary worlds...

A re-read. Snyder's sure hand at the wheel gives this story a ring of truth and an immediacy flavored with the not-quite-supernatural. When I read it as a kid, I identified so closely with Ivy that I fancied myself a changeling too. Reading it as an adult, I have much more insight into both Ivy and me, and I still identify with her. I want to know what happened to her, where she's dancing now. A lovely, transcendent book.

“Know all the Questions, but not the Answers
Look for the Different, instead of the Same
Never Walk where there's room for Running
Don't do anything that can't be a Game”
― Zilpha Keatley Snyder, The Changeling

Just..one of the best. What a writer! The Changeling remains, along with "The Velvet room", another one by this author, one of my all time faves.

Have you ever felt like a "Changeling"? Did you feel like when in childhood? Even for a moment? I think most of us have.

In the case of Ivy and Martha..WELL..I am not going to say! This book is a celebration of Martha, of Ivy and all the Changelings here, there and everywhere.

It is worth noting, if you missed this one in childhood no matter. I did a reread recently..the person who had it show more before me had written in the book "This is a good book!". I do not even know that person.

So then I reread, loaned it to a friend and she loved it too.

The Changeling transcends age and time. Will always be a classic. show less