The Library of Lost Dollhouses

Until the dollhouse maker delved into the world of keeping other women’s secrets, she had no idea there were so many possibilities: women write books and articles and publish them under men’s names; they print and distribute subversive newspapers anonymously; they covertly offer illicit medical services to those in need; they bear children they cannot claim as their own; they spend years developing inventions, only to have them stolen by men.

My life has been filled with mistakes but I’ve always been correct about at least one thing, somehow our imperfect bodies hold endless reserves of love. The heart and its ability to expand is a truly mystifying phenomenon no doctor or scientist has ever properly explained.

My life has been filled but with mistakes but I’ve always been correct about at least one thing, somehow our imperfect bodies hold endless reserves of love. The heart and its ability to expand is a truly mystifying phenomenon no doctor or scientist has ever properly explained.

Women vanish far too easily. Your work shouldn’t be hidden. Art’s not meant to be locked away, my dear.” Belva rattled the ice in her glass. “It’s meant to connect us, to make us cry and laugh, to make us feel less alone.

After all, what was the point of a library if not to encourage curiosity.

Libraries are viewed as such solemn places—but why? Reading is magic. Think of the imagination and sense of adventure that readers employ every time they crack open a book. There are few places filled with more magic than libraries, no doubt about it.

There’s actually a psychological rationale to explain our affinity for small things: dollhouses offer us a sense of control and imagination. They can provide a feeling of agency. Miniatures allow us to create the world as we’d like to see it.

Tildy was prone to this single-mindedness. Obsession, that’s really what it was. Her focus and drive could be a strength, but also exhausting.