Understood Betsy

When this story begins, Elizabeth Ann, who is the heroine of it, was a little girl of nine, who lived with her Great-aunt Harriet in a medium-sized city in a mdedium-sized state in the midle of this country, and that's all you need to know about the place, for it's not the important thing in this story; and anyhow you know all about it because it was probably very much like the place you live in yourself.

The opening of Dorothy Canfield Fisher's Understood Betsy hooked me in, and I just wanted to keep reading – and when I'd finished I just wanted to go back to the beginning and start all over again. I wish I'd come across it as a child (it is a children's book, if you haven't already guessed), but it doesn't seem to be well known in show more the UK, although it may be more popular in America – after all, Canfield Fisher was an American writer. In places it reminded me of The Secret Garden, while the kindly, amused authorial voice is reminiscent of Edith Nesbit, and the description of life in Vermont in the early 20th century is as fascinating and delightful as anything written by Laura Ingalls Wilder. It really does deserve to be up there with classic children's authors like Edith Nesbit, Frances Hodgson Burnett, LM Montgomery and Laura Ingalls Wilder - if you like them I'm sure you will love this.

Anyway, in addition to Great-aunt Harriet (who is 'not very rich and not very poor'), Elizabeth Ann's household also includes her great-aunt's daughter Aunt Frances, who gives piano lessons to little girls, and Grace, their 'girl', who is nearer 50 than 40, suffers badly asthma, and does all the cooking and housework. They are all very small and very thin, even though get plenty to eat, and Elizabeth Ann has a pale face, with frightened, wistful eyes. Delicate and nervous, she's cared for by timid Aunt Frances, a spinster who has read all the books on child rearing and wants to give Elizabeth Ann every advantage. But much as she loves the child she only succeeds in passing on her own fears and anxieties. She proudly tells everyone that Elizabeth Ann tells her everything, and so she does – but there are signs that she may not be quite as meek and mild as she appears, because when there is nothing significent to tell she makes things up to keep her aunt happy.

Then Great-aunt Harriet falls ill and Elizabeth Ann ends up a thousand miles away, on a farm in Vermont, with her unknown Putney relatives, about whom she has never heard a good word. She is nervous about meeting them because she remembers being told that they showed 'such lack of sympathy, such perfect indifference to the sacred sensitivities of child-life, such a starving of the child-heart'. But Unclle Henry, Aunt Abigail and Cousin Ann know exactly how to treat a child like Elizabeth Ann – and it's not by molly coddling her and wrapping her in cotton wool. They are kind, loving, and wise, but too busy to run around after her and pander to whims and frightened fancies. They encourage, but expect her to look after herself and help around the house and farm – and that's just what she does. The fact that the Putneys are so casual and off-hand in their belief that she can do things gives her the confidence to do them.

They call her Betsy, a new name for her new life, and she learns to dress and undress herself, and to do her own her hair (tied back at the nape of the neck with a ribbon, a style she has always admired). She makes butter, apple sauce and maple syrup, lays the table, and learns to sew. For the first time she plays and laughs with other children and forms friendships. And she starts to think for herself, to solve problems, to notice what is happening in the world around her, and to care for others – a kitten, the family dog, a smaller child who needs a friend. She fills out, growing strong and sturdy, acquires a suntan, and loses the nightmares and delicate digestion that have always plagued her. There's a heart-stopping moment when Aunt Frances writes to say she is coming to take Elizabeth Ann home, but this is a kind of fairy tale so, naturally, there is a happy ending (and, as I've said before, I'm a sucker for a happy ending, and this is such a happy, transformative story).

I suspect that the book very much reflects Canfield Fisher's own views on child rearing and education, but she doesn't preach. I knew she was a supporter of the methods pioneered by Maria Montessori, which involved the development of a child's physical, social, emotional and cognitive well-being. But until I looked it up I had no idea how new this must have been in 1916 when Understood Betsy was published (the book is also set in that year). So I was surprised to find the small village school so child-centred, with each child assessed in each subject so work can be set according to their needs – Betsy, as we must now call her, is in the seventh grade for reading, the third for spelling, and the second for arithmetic. And the work carried out in school is part and parcel of Betsy's growth at the farm. I wondered if it was a device used by the author, or if small village schools really did work like that. show less

What can I say about such an old favorite? A book which my mother read to me when I was little, and many years later I read to my children, and which I just finished reading to my mother, knowing it would offer a small measure of comfort and cheer as she is dying. I can easily see the book's “faults” – the passionate didacticism, the stock characters, the romanticism of country life – but those have become part of the book's charm for me. Reading “Understood Betsy” now, having homeschooled my children, I really appreciate Canfield Fisher's passion for educational reform (she was an early proponent of Montessori education), and any mild irritation I might feel at her earnest preachiness is overcome by affection for her charm, show more kindness, and wisdom. Each of Betsy's adventures, in which she grows in spirit, skills, compassion, and self-confidence, has so long been part of my mental furniture that offering an objective opinion is nearly impossible. So I'll leave it at that. This will always be a cherished favorite for me, and I hope my daughter will pull out a copy (mine may have one last reading in it) and read it to me in my last days. show less

This has been one of my favourite books since my mum gave it to me when I was a little girl. It belonged to her, and probably was passed along by someone even older—it is over a hundred years old! The edition I have is a battered hardcover with a torn binding and a big chunk of pages falling out, but I pick it up every few years and revisit it. It reads like historical fiction, though I believe it was contemporary when it was published. A little girl who was orphaned grows up with her fussy aunties in the big city, but when one of the aunties falls ill, she is shuffled off to live with some other relations in the country. On the Putney farm (and even on the journey there), she must exercise a dormant common sense and practicality, show more despite her abject terror. Her fussy aunties had never asked or expected her to do anything for herself, but despite that, she ends up finding an inner strength and independence that sees her through some adventures that may seem trivial, but represent tremendous leaps for a girl who had never had to use such traits. It is a charming story with a straightforward narrative voice that flows smoothly and simply. Although it was written in and for a very different time, the story and the lesson hold up very well. show less

This chatty, conversational children's novel about a young orphan girl who goes from one set of relatives to another set and blossoms with the change is a complete delight. It's another one I had never read as a child myself but picked up because of the Shelf Discovery Challenge. Elizabeth Ann is a small, somewhat sickly, very timid child who lives with her Aunts Harriet and Frances, neither of whom are actually aunts but are related more distantly than that. Aunt Frances, who has the main care of Elizabeth Ann loves Elizabeth Ann dearly but fosters in her a very dependent relationship. She is quite fond of declaring that she "understands" this little girl left in her care. When Aunt Harriet suddenly takes sick and must go away, needing show more Aunt Frances, who is actually Aunt Harriet's daughter, to attend to her health, Elizabeth Ann is sent to yet more distant relatives who, not really wanting to be responsible for her care, in turn send her to her mother's aunt's family. This upheaval and plan strikes fear and shuddering into the little girl as she has heard these cousins of hers disparaged as horrible for as long as she can remember. But lo and behold, when she is finally with the "horrid Putney cousins," she comes out of her shell and starts to relish life instead of jumping at her own shadow. She learns independence and resourcefulness under the laconic and easy care of these country-living folks. Rechristened Betsy, she is expected to help around the house and to master her own fears. She finds sympathy when she needs it but is not coddled, and stops thinking that her every thought and action is of utmost importance to Cousin Ann, Aunt Abigail, and Uncle Henry. Over the months of living with these cousins, Betsy grows into a sturdy, healthy child who learns much of life and of another way to love and be loved. Written in 1917 and set in that decade, the slower, simpler way of life at the time is now nostalgic for readers. The characters are appealing and wonderful and Fisher manages to show that Betsy is happier and healthier with the Putney cousins without disparaging Aunt Frances and her more fearful, fluttery parenting style. This is a sweet book and one that I'm glad I finally made the acquaintance of. show less

I can’t even remember when I first read this; presumably as a child. I think it deserves a much greater reputation as a children’s classic than it has. It’s about a little orphan girl, Elizabeth Ann, who is being raised by her two overprotective, uptight, city-dwelling aunts. Poor Elizabeth Ann is frail and vaguely sickly and afraid of everything, just like her aunties who “understand” her and smother her with love. When a family illness means she must be sent away to stay with another branch of the family who live way out in the country, she is terrified. But she blossoms as she encounters nature, animals, having responsibilities, doing things for herself, and especially her brusque but kind, plain-spoken new family. show more Elizabeth Ann (now Betsy) begins attending a one-room school house that amazingly seems exactly like a Montessori school, and she makes friends for the first time. The part where Betsy is left behind at the Fair, and the ending where Betsy must choose where she is going to live, elevate this book into a masterpiece. show less

Read during Fall 2001

Heartwarming, homepsun story about orphan Betsy finding her life and spirit on a farm in Vermont. It was hokey but it didn't beat you over the head and the New England winteryness made me feel nostalgic. The copyright is 1916 but it was reprinted by Scholastic in the 50's and I wondered if it has been updated a bit. Just a few things. Excessively enjoyable.

A fairly predictable children's tale about an orphan cared for by two very different sets of relatives, and the circumstances under which she thrives. It was clearly making a point about raising a child to think for herself, solve her own problems and value independence. Nothing to argue with there, but it's a bit heavy in its message at times. At other times, it's a delightful portrait of some excellent characters, and I enjoyed reading it. After reading this "novel for children", I discovered that the author was drawing on her exposure to Maria Montessori's educational principles in crafting the story, and that Dorothy Canfield Fisher was, in fact, instrumental in bringing the Montessori Method to the U. S., and was one of its show more earliest and strongest proponents. show less