Karen's Doll 1-10

Sep 09, 2011 11:12

I haven’t read a Karen book in years, and with good reasons. First off, I only own about eight of them. Second, reading it more than once is like a slow form of torture. But I was browsing through my book box looking for stuff to snark, and came across this one, with a gem of a tagline.



Could this be The One Where We Finally Explore Lesbian Subtext? Fingers crossed, everyone!

The cover actually isn’t too terrible. Both of the girls on it are cute in a little kids way, though Nancy (Nancy? I have no idea) looks like her hand is about to grab Karen’s knee in an extremely painful way. At least Karen looks better than on the other cover *shudders*

According to the back cover, Karen’s special new doll is all the way from London, England. And very expensive, because bragging about being rich is fine as long as you say that you don’t mean to brag! Also, Nancy gets sick and Karen lets her hold on to the doll, but Nancy is all “thanks for the present!”

My hopes for the other meaning of “two mommies” are slowly falling.

We open with onomatopoeia. The phone is ringing! Gasp! Excitement! Karen’s shrieking! I need another cup of coffee!

Long before I read real books, I used to think that first person was required to address the audience. This is entirely your fault, AMM, and your ghosties.

So Karen screams her way through answering the phone, and finds out that it’s Grandma Packett, her mom’s mom. Joyous joy! Grandma and Grandpa Packett are in England. Karen explains that there’s “a lot of noise on the line” and that her Grandma kept “asking her to speak up,” so eventually she’s just screaming into the phone (probably even louder than normal), and she justifies that this is “special”. It’s a phone call from your grandma, kid. Calm down.

We’re left in the dark about what Grandma tells Karen before she hands the phone over to her mom, but I bet it was “You were a mistake and everyone hates you.”

Oh... Nope. Grandma wants to know what nonsense she can spoil Karen with. (Oh, and Andrew, who gets two sentences in parenthesis of introduction.)

Karen runs the gamut of things she wants, from a member of the royal guard (rejected because he might get in trouble) to a Winnie the Pooh bear (rejected because she can find it in any old store). Then she settles on it... Karen Brewer wants a “real English baby doll.” (Which is something I’ve never heard of, and I used to be quite the doll collector thanks to my own grandma’s influence.)

Showing an AMAZING amount of tact, Karen doesn’t run shrieking to her mother that she wants this doll, but instead writes it down (along with Andrew’s. The kid wants a double-decker bus - see, now that’s cute) and holds it up for her mom to see. Also, what a selfish bitch. “I hoped the bus would be big enough for my baby doll to ride in.” It’s his present, Karen, you jerk. I’d say “maybe he won’t want you to play with it” but then again, Andrew’s already been bullied out of pretty much everything short of the air he breathes, so it’s pointless.

Karen gets all sorts of excited about her grandma saying yes, then goes on a blurb about Nancy and Hannie as a weak segue into the question of where the doll would live. O-oh god, not the two-twos chapter. Do I have to?

Charlie and Sam are “so old they’re in high school”. Going by time loop standards, they’re in high school until they’re about thirty, so I can see why Karen is impressed. David Michael likes to knock Karen off her pedestal with the old “I’m older” game, because he turned seven first. Haha.

Kristy is “the best stepsister in the whole world” because Karen has no basis for comparison except for (maybe) Mary Anne and Dawn, and you know those two don’t cater to Karen’s every whim 24/7, so they’re bad stepsisters. Also, Karen reminds us that having a rat named after you is an honor, because “adopted” and “nudist (maybe)” aren’t enough character traits for the two-year-old.

Rather than use a colon to list the pets (like grammar says you should, I think), Karen continues to use sentence fragments that drive me insane. Honestly, I think if I transcribed this book into Word, it’d be one big green underline right up to the point where my computer explodes.

This book comes after the trauma of  Karen’s Gold Fish, so we get a mention of Crystal Light the Second. Also, Boo-boo gets called mean, even though he’s a frigging cat and he’s old. He just doesn’t like a shrieking seven-year-old to be constantly harassing him. Boo-boo is awesome, because I’m sure he goes right for the eyes whenever he can’t flee from Karen. You’ll get her one day, Boo-boo.

Talking about ripping Tickly the blanket in half, but not Emily Michelle (rat or person) or Crystal Light the Second.

Anyways, this all basically leads to the same conclusion that Karen could have reached at the end of chapter one (except then we wouldn’t get a “brief history of me! Me me me! I’m Karen Brewer, the most important person in the entire world and you will pay attention to ME!”), which is that she’ll figure something out. Well, duh.

Karen is up in her room expositioning talking to herself, and dodges any sort of minor responsibility asked of her (such as setting the table) by shrieking. Well, she’s shrieking because the doorbell rang, but with Karen... I guess you just get used to constant shrieking and shirking of duties.

Haha, Seth is all “bitchplz” and opens the door before Karen can. Take that! Guess what, it’s her grandparents, back in town for a whole day already, and not bothering to call and make sure the family isn’t just about to sit down to dinner before they come over! I’m starting to see where Karen gets her “I can do whatever I want” attitude. Lisa gets a shawl. Seth gets a copy of David Copperfield, because apparently they don’t sell that particular Dickens novel in America.

Karen is left speechless by the doll’s beauty, and I cross my fingers that this stays in effect. I’ll trade in all lesbian subtext for a mute Karen in an instant.

We get a short description of the doll, and also a picture! Hooray! There’s an ill-shaped lump with a face that I guess is Karen, with her hands on this box with another ill-shaped lump with a face that’s supposed to be the doll. The last lump with a face is, I guess, Grandma Packett. She’s holding a ribbon, and seems to be contemplating if she can wring Karen’s neck with it. I’m sure you can, Grandma! Go for it!

Damn! Karen’s back to talking! This means that the whole “two mommies” thing better mean what I think it means.

Karen decides that despite the doll being really expensive, hard to replace, and delicate, she’s going to take it wherever she goes. Because this is the responsible thing to do, and won’t result in the doll getting lost or broken. Also, “I knew I would never forget her the way I forgot Tickly. I was much more grown up than I used to be.” Pfffft, whatever.

Nancy is ordered to drop everything and get over to Karen’s house, while Karen tries to think up a name for her doll. Nancy gets there, and Karen brags about how expensive the doll is while permitting her oh-so-lucky friend to even gaze upon its wonder. It’s decided that the only name befitting such a treasure is...



Cynthia.

Only it’s actually gonna be “Hyacynthia” because that’s a better name than plain old Cynthia. Karen writes it down and it looks “gigundoly beautiful.” More like gigundoly stupid.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take... We’re only up to chapter four and I already hate everything ever. But I’ll plow on! Into Sharing Time!

Exclamation points!

Karen reminds us that her new doll is named Hyacynthia, in case we forgot from one page ago. She invites her doll to come along to school for Show and Share day, and mentions that she “married” Ricky Torres one day at recess. Uh, right. (Is that supposed to be normal little-ish kid behavior? I never did anything like that, and don’t recall my classmates doing it, but both Karen Brewer and Ramona Quimby seem to be little girls obsessed with getting married to their classmates... Maybe it’s a fifties thing.)

There’s a note about how Pamela will be so jealous, and I resist the urge to punch something. Karen is such a little bitch.

Apparently not having had her coffee yet, Lisa agrees to let Karen take her doll to school if she’s careful and follows all sorts of rules that will probably be broken. Karen steals a laundry basket and makes a bed for her doll, then takes her to school and shrieks at Ms. Colman to hold on to her doll. Then she informs us that people with glasses have to sit up front. I always hated that in school, because I could see just as well from the back with my glasses (that’s kind of the point, and all), but I still pretty much always ended up in the front.

Nancy is absent. Rather than be concerned for his friend, Karen is glad that Nancy already got to gawk at her doll. Karen brags during show and share, and we get a picture of Karen with ill-fitting clothes holding the doll up to show off. Then she goes home and realizes that Nancy is apparently MIA. Maybe her family ran away from the horror of living next to Karen?

I don’t know how much more of this book I can take.

Karen finally gets someone to answer the phone over at Nancy’s house, after calling about a billion times. I imagine their answering machine is something like this:

image Click to view



Mrs. Dawes says that Nancy has... Appendicitis! And somehow Karen seems to immediately know what that is. I don’t think I even knew what an appendix was when I was seven. But whatever, Karen is speshul and smart, right?

Karen gives well wishes, and then hurries to Lisa and Seth to figure out what the hell an appendix is. The description seems pretty accurate from what little I remember about the appendix. Also, I do love how it’s hand-waved as unimportant because “no one needs an appendix anyways.” True, it’s evolutionary leftovers, but getting appendicitis is not some little thing you can brush off. Especially since, if I recall, it can kill you if it’s not treated.

Seth and Lisa tell Karen to just keep busy, so Karen calls Hannie and upsets her with the news (seriously, why do all these kids seem to automatically know appendicitis is bad?!), then says she’s going to make a card. Next she calls Kristy and tells her, because the entire damn world must know that Nancy has appendicitis.

She makes Nancy one hell of a get well card, and shows some sanity slippage when she asks her doll a question and the doll answers. Once again, is this normal? I don’t remember ever pretending like my toys answered me when I talked to them.

Clearly, doctors can do nothing. Karen proves this by deciding that her garish glitter card and a “wish” (which seems more like a prayer that doesn’t want to step on anyone’s toes about religion) will be the reason Nancy gets better.

Chapter 6! Dear lord, it takes me about 2 days to get through 2 pages in this damn book.

So Karen thinks that Mrs. Dawes wouldn’t possibly call the school about Nancy being sick, even though she’ll be absent for several days and have work to catch up on. Of course, this means that Karen has to shriek the news to her teacher! Also, Ms. Coleman looks “impressed” by the card Karen brought for everyone to sign, which I imagine is actually a hyper-active seven(ish)-year-old’s interpretation of a look that says “how am I supposed to teach these kids to add with this shit going on?” Also, what about people that don’t like Nancy? Oh, right, that doesn’t happen in Stoneybrook.

So Karen gets to go around and spread gossip about how Nancy had her appendix out, and Natalie Springer is all “the hell is an appendix?” Karen takes this as an opportunity to feel important and also to get in another dig at Pamela Harding. Do we ever find out what this girl did to deserve so much hate? I know little kids can get all “I hate her” for no reason, but seriously, this is just insane. I bet it’s because she doesn’t bow down and do whatever Karen demands. Also, Natalie apparently is “funny” about injuries. I can totally understand phantom pain, so I know how Natalie feels.

Pamela wants to make her own card, but gets bowled over by someone named “Leslie” (...No, I didn’t start typing that as “lesbian”...) because Nancy might feel bad. There’s also a picture of some lumpy kids leaned over the card. One of them might be Hannie. Honestly I have no idea, and I really, really don’t care enough to go figure it out. I just know that they’re lumpy, and Karen’s “card” looks more like a poster in the picture.

The chapter ends with Karen continuing the gossip train. At this rate, Nancy’s going to go from having her appendix removed to being on death’s door with seven types of cancer, as well as needing an exorcism. Or something. Do you think getting an exorcism would make Karen stay away from her?

Oh wait, the gossip lesson was a different book, huh?

Karen gets everyone in the class (which is apparently only about 12 people...) and some teachers to sign the card, then begins to persuade her mom to go to the hospital. Apparently it’s “not very far away” which is curious, since most “small towns” don’t have hospitals. Then again, 7-year-old perspective of distance. Whatever.

Ha! Someone doesn’t bow to Karen! The orderly won’t let them visit because they’re not family, and is all “whatever, the answer is no” when Karen tries to whine her way into it. Victory for logic!

Oh good god. The orderly or whatever says he’ll get the card to Nancy, and Karen. Throws. A. Shitfit.



This poor guy is just keeping to the rules, and she has to freak out and keep screeching about making sure it goes to the right person and stuff. I would definitely kick her out by then. At least she managed to scream a thank you as she’s being dragged away. There’s also another picture of weird lumps, with a very odd sign about visiting hours in the background.

“Child under 12 (twelve) not admitted...” I’m no grammatical expert, but isn’t it normal to put the number in parenthesis after writing it out, like twelve (12)? Just another weird thing.

Either way, the picture is really lumpy and the look on Karen’s face is hilarious.

Lisa is embarrassed by Karen’s carrying on, and not at all happy, but Karen brushes that off because clearly the orderly can’t be trusted to give the card to the right Nancy, and Karen is never wrong. Ugh. No wonder she’s such a brat, because Lisa doesn’t do anything to punish her for making such a scene, and isn’t even upset when they get home.

Karen calls the hospital, and unfortunately for him, the same orderly answers the phone. I wish he had shredded the card (or something worse) but he says he gave it to Nancy (probably afraid Karen would check up on him) and then puts her through.

And then Karen gets an idea! Manipulate her step-sister into going to visit Nancy instead. Because a 13-year-old has nothing better to do with her time than visit a 7-year-old she barely knows in the hospital.

Oh wait, it’s Kristy. And I bet Charlie will be available to drive her.

Chapter 8. Reading this story is physically painful. Karen gets up and greets her toys. Kristy agrees to go see Nancy, and apparently “knows” Nancy because Nancy comes over to the big house to play “all the time”. It’s been covered before, but seriously: if Watson and Lisa live close enough that the 7-year-old can come over a lot and play, why do Karen and Andrew only go there every other weekend? Hell, my own divorced parents didn’t live that close to each other, but for a while I would see my dad after school on Monday and Wednesday, and every other weekend.

Moving on! Karen gets up and feeds her fish, because she forgot to feed her the night before. No wonder the first Crystal Light died. Andrew is awake and asks how “Hiawatha” is, and I snicker. Then he offers to let her ride his bus, because that kid has been forced to share everything with his bratty big sister.

Kristy is ready to go to the hospital, and Karen starts to get a half-crocked idea to dress up as Nancy’s grandmother, but Kristy is all “bitchno.” Instead she asks if Karen wants to give anything to Nancy, and finally, eight chapters in, we meet our central conflict! It’s about damn time.

Karen wants to let Kristy bring Hyacynthia to the hospital for Nancy to see, and she packs shit like this is a real kid. A rattle, a diaper, a sweater... God, I hate Karen.

There’s actually no mention of who brings Kristy to the hospital in this chapter. She takes off with the doll, and we get an awkward picture of a troll-ish little Karen crouching next to a basket, and an adult-ish Kristy-head near the top of the page. I thought Kristy was short.

Rather than occupy her time with other things, Karen is just sitting around waiting for Kristy to come home in the next chapter. Also, from what I can gather Charlie was the one that drove her to the hospital, since Nannie and Elizabeth and Watson are all home.

Kristy gets home and like a bitch Karen wants to know about her doll, because fuck her friend that had the operation. Kristy has the same reaction as I did, but says that they’re both fine, Nancy will be home soon, etc. Karen misses Hyacynthia. This book doesn’t even have conflict when we’re in the midst of the main issue.

Karen now deigns it okay to make cookies with her family. But instead of making them, she explains what they’re doing to the reader, then answers a phone call from Nancy, who is all excited to have Hyacynthia and be going back to school soon. We get another awkward!Karen picture.

Nancy apparently gave Hyacynthia (I hate that name so much) part of her jell-o, which just makes me think of someone smearing jell-o onto the doll. It also makes me want some jell-o.

Like a hypochondriac, Karen feels a little ache in her belly and is all “omg appendicitis!” Lucky for us, though, she’s got a little bit of a brain here, and decides she probably just misses her doll. ‘Cause there’s no way it’s worry for her hospitalized best friend. That’s just silly.

Finally, Karen realizes that before loaning her expensive gift to her friend, she probably should have checked with her parents. Lisa’s going to be pissed, maybe.

Their own mother doesn’t even pick them up from their father’s house, instead Seth does. He doesn’t ask about Karen’s doll, probably because he’s a grown man and doesn’t give a shit about it.

Lisa notices, and doesn’t take any of Karen’s redirection bull. Rather than just own up to lending the doll to her sick friend and looking like a caring person... she lies.

Oh Karen, I am so disappointed in you.

Also, wasn’t Andrew sitting right there when Karen told Kristy to bring the doll to the hospital? Why is there no concern that he’ll speak up-

Oh, right, it’s Andrew.

Finally we get some conflict, as Karen realizes that her mom doesn’t think she’s grown up. Of course, Karen also thinks her mother doesn’t understand wanting a sick friend to have something special to hold onto. Whatever.

Even though Watson lives on the other side of town, Lisa is all “Too bad, you can’t get your doll until you go back there.” Apparently it’s too much trouble to drive over there and get it. Or to have someone from there drop the doll off. I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind.

The conflict grows, since Nancy will be returning the doll before Karen goes back to her father’s. This is why lying doesn’t work. Karen tries to think up a bunch of excuses for why she might have her doll again suddenly. Blah blah blah, end chapter. Oh my god I hate Karen and I hate this book.

Chapters 11-20 to come at a later date, because I really can’t stand any more of this monster.

...So there were randomly wedding photos of my parents stuck into the middle of the book. How weird.

little sister, appendicitis, nancy, karen, karen's a moron, hyacynthia, ls #23 karen's doll, three musketeers, lisa, lying, doll

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