The Strange Likeness by Harriet Pyne Grove

~The Quick Review~

While an interesting look into the life of the upper-class schoolgirl of nearly a century ago, I’m not sure The Strange Likeness has much else to offer the modern person.

~The Real Review~

Before I talk about The Strange Likeness, I need to talk about my grandmother.

Born sometime around 1918, her family was of modest means. Then her father died, and “modest” became “non-existent.” Still, somehow they struggled through the Great Depression, and despite it all my grandmother did more than stay in school—she excelled.

The Strange Likeness was published in 1929, when my grandmother would have been roughly 11 years old, and I rescued it from her bookshelf before the contents of her house were sold off en-bulk to salvagers.

I can’t say for sure it was her book as a child, but it was the only children’s book she owned. What’s more, there’s some drawing in the back that references “Anna,” and I swear I remember that being the name of her sister—but I might be making that up. Alas, there’s no one I can ask.

It would make some sense for this to be her book. I still treasure the books of my childhood, and even though I grew up somewhere between “in poverty” and “modestly,” there’s no comparing that to the Great Depression and the cost of books nearly a century ago. If she had come to own this book as a smart but destitute child, it goes without saying that it’d mean enough to her to keep for 70 years.

So it was with a wealth of nostalgia and wonder that I started reading The Strange Likeness.

Within the first few pages it’s apparent that The Strange Likeness isn’t speculative fiction, but I didn’t care. I’ve been meaning to read it for over a decade, and I finally brought myself to pick up the delicate book.

I read very little outside of speculative fiction, and what I do read tends to fall into the imprecise category of “literary classics.” The Strange Likeness is written for school-girls from 90 years ago. Even as a schoolgirl, these weren’t the sorts of books I read—I got a permission slip from my mother to let me into high-school section of the library—so I’m in way over my head here. I try to judge a book against what it’s trying to be, but I don’t have a point of reference here. So let’s wing it together.

The Strange Likeness mostly follows Shirley Harcourt. Her parents away for a year on professional pursuits, Shirley travels west with her cousin and his family to vacation, then settles into a girls’ school for her last year of high school. Aside from missing her parents, she’s thrilled by all of this—until she realizes a rich girl who could be her doppelgänger practically runs the school and isn’t thrilled to have a look-alike.

Frankly, I expected The Strange Likeness to be a bit of a mystery, where the girls join forces to figure out why they look identical. It’s not. It’s mostly girl-talk and the rich girl—Sidney— butting heads with the impressively good-natured Shirley. Most of the important scenes happen off-stage: Shirley convincing Sidney that a perceived slight was an honest-to-cod accident, one of the girls discovering that she was adopted…

I don’t think that’s a spoiler. The prologue makes it clear.

Anyway, if anything The Strange Likeness is about the reconciliation between these two girls, which is definitely not what I expected.

I had also expected some level of cringe-worthy misogyny. Maybe that’s not fair, but the 1920s was a long time ago. Women, and girls, were actively restricted from doing lots of things, and I somehow expected that to bleed into the storytelling. I expected more references to marriage and keeping a house and, given this is a boarding school for girls and thus a rich thing, an emphasis on social niceties and stuff such as “coming out” balls or whatever.

It’s not. There’s maybe one or two references to marriage, and rich Sidney is perhaps a bit focused on being a proper social woman, but the vast majority of the girls in the book are mostly interested in college, education, and widening their horizons.

Another thing that surprised me is that the girls celebrated Halloween at their school. Even more than that, they talked about how the year prior the festivities had been held in the chapel. This … depresses me. I mean, this is a school where the girls have to attend chapel daily. It’s clearly not some hippy-dippy school eschewing all the rules. And they celebrate Halloween without reservation.

Soooo Halloween is more controversial in 2020 than it was in 1929. Of course it is.

There is one thing worth noting: The Strange Likeness, as I said, mostly focuses on rich girls. Shirley, our protagonist, is of a lesser income, but is by no means poor. For goodness’ sake, her father is a professor and their family has a maid—if only during the day.

This feels like an important distinction. Rich women often escape the worst of sexism on account of their status. And this part of the book, well, it was a little harder to swallow.

You see, while I read The Strange Likeness, curled up in bed, I could imagine my grandmother doing the same thing all those years ago. And I could almost feel her dreams for the future embodied in all these smart, capable, kind girls. In some ways I felt connected to her. It also made me happy, to imagine that she had that warmth, that optimism, that she didn’t let the world tell her where she as a poor girl belonged.

I imagined how reading this book in her formative years might have pushed her to become valedictorian of her class—an accomplishment she achieved. She was still poor, though. Hoping to attend a modestly priced local college, she approached her uncle, a man who had done extremely well for himself, and asked for a loan.

He laughed and said he wouldn’t waste his money educating a girl.

This story echoed in the back of my head through every page. There’s nothing sad about The Strange Likeness, and yet I sometimes found myself on the verge of tears as the girls dreamed about the future. It was almost unbearably bitter-sweet, and I found myself forlorn for every child—not just girls—whose intellect and drive and passion are dismissed because of what they look or sound like. And I desperately, desperately hope that we’re better in 2020 than we were in 1929—but in so many ways, I’m not sure we are.

Public Rating: 4/5 Average | 6 Ratings

Cover art by Roy Mendenhall: