Ballet Shoes was one of my all-time favorites as a child. My library had the book on audio and I listened to it on my little boom box constantly. I can’t express how burned into my brain is: Children’s Acad | emy of Dancing an | d Stage Training. I studied classical ballet as a child and teen and Ballet Shoes inspired me--I remember going to see the film with my classmates and teachers. Re-reading this book brought back all those special memories, and remembering how much of an impact my teachers had on my life, interests, and personality, though I don’t dance anymore.

The world of Ballet Shoes is cozy and kind, and even though it’s a bit of a horror to think of a twelve-year-old feeling like she needs to meaningfully contribute to household expenses, the girls have a lot of helpful, trustworthy adults to help them along the way. I’m wondering now if the reason Rumer Godden’s A Candle for St Jude fell so flat for me is because I was subconsciously expecting a Streatfeild world. Yet, the ballet in that one is better. In Ballet Shoes there is more of Pauline’s acting than Posy’s dancing. I would love to get a chapter about Posy’s private lessons with Madame.

I loved Streatfeild’s other Shoe books, but nothing beats Pauline, Petrova, and Posy. Petrova gave me a longstanding affection for STEM heroines, though I never relate to them in that interest. Maybe she’s why I love math in novels (yet I stumble in real life, alas). I always found Pauline a bit insufferable, but her character growth is quite nice, and she is much softer than I remembered. Posy is my favorite, of course, though she really got stiffed by the film. Lucy Boynton played her very well, but the ballet is awful and they should have used a double who could actually get over on her box, for the sake of her ankles if nothing else!

Noel Streatfeild was one of the twentieth century's most beloved British children's authors, and it's not hard to see why. Ballet Shoes is quintessential English storytelling charm, every becoming trait of the era neatly fit within its pages. It's not a vehicle for any overarching message other than the sweet thrill of life in all its ups and downs, the reward of persevering through lean times to enjoy the good. The characters are winsome and very real, none equipped with super-traits to shield them from harm, the three sisters—Pauline, Petrova, and Posy Fossil—all undeniably different girls who desire disparate outcomes from the lives they embark upon. The grownups surrounding them are as varied as the girls, with their own tempers, talents, aspirations, and ways of influencing the story, and Noel Streatfeild utilizes them in constructing a richly satisfying junior novel. This first volume of the Shoes series is a timeless work that kids of any age and generation will do well to keep close to their hearts and learn from, for its value is practically limitless. Oh, to go back and have the privilege of my first read of Ballet Shoes a second time. Few books would please me more to reread as a blank slate, unaware of the nourishing nectar I was about to imbibe.

Pauline, Petrova, and Posy aren't sisters biologically. Their happenstance kinship resulted from the worldwide travels of Great-Uncle Matthew, affectionately shorted to Gum, whose journeys brought many spectacular fossils over the years to the collection he curates in his huge home. When Gum seriously injures his leg and can no longer walk far in search of fossils, much to the relief of stern house manager Nana, he takes to the sprawling seas instead to satiate his craving for adventure. He soon comes into possession of an orphaned baby he brings home and leaves for Nana to look after. The first baby is joined shortly by a second under similar circumstances, but Gum doesn't return home when he sends the third orphaned infant. He arranges to have the house and its inhabitants cared for over the next five years, then sets sail in search of more fortune and fame, leaving a house of ladies anxiously awaiting his homecoming.

Fortunately, Nana isn't left alone to tend the three foundlings. Gum's teenage great-niece, Sylvia, takes an active role in their upbringing, becoming a sort of mother to the trio. Cook prepares meals and Clara helps with housework, but Nana and Sylvia will be the primary caregivers until Gum shows up to account for his collection of international orphans. As Pauline, Petrova, and Posy grow, household finances are placed under considerable strain, for Gum had only a vague idea how much money raising children requires, and the trust fund he arranged is rapidly coming to an end. Taking on boarders at Gum's roomy estate alleviates the discomfort considerably, and brings some of the more fascinating characters of the book into orbit around Pauline, Petrova, and Posy's life. Miss Theo Dane, dignified dancer at a ballet academy, is perhaps most important, as her connection with the academy provides an in for the Fossil sisters to take up ballet. Academic doctors Jakes and Smith are important, too, volunteering to take over the sisters' daily schooling from poor, overwrought Sylvia, who isn't trained to educate three curious girls. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson have a crucial role to play, as well, particularly Mr. Simpson, an expert on vehicles and their maintenance who provides tomboy Petrova an outlet for her interest in cars and planes. The boarders are always there to take pressure off Sylvia and Nana when responsibility for the girls overwhelms them, offering opportunity for their future that Nana and Sylvia couldn't have engineered on their own.

It's anyone's guess how Sylvia will manipulate Gum's waning monetary reserves to last until (or if) he returns, but she catches a break when the Fossils are accepted into the ballet academy, which lifts some of the burden of teaching them from the two doctors and Sylvia. Fair-haired, blue-eyed Pauline, an attractive girl in all respects, shows an affinity for the stage immediately, though her talents tend more toward acting than dance. Petrova, a skinny brunette of somewhat pale complexion, isn't sure she likes acting or dance, but she knows it helps Sylvia to have her at the academy during the day, so she dutifully goes through the motions of dance lessons. Redheaded Posy, an amusing mix of impishness and delicate dignity, is a prodigy from toddlerhood, dancing en pointe before her older sisters can manage the awkward position, a budding prima ballerina who receives one-on-one instruction from the academy's Madame, a privilege given no other girl. Learning to perform is endless fun for Pauline and Posy, who were born to delight audiences, but all three girls recognize that if they progress as performance artists they may soon be in position to aid Sylvia financially, as girls in British theater are allowed to apply for a work permit at age twelve. As each Fossil sister comes of age and applies for their permit, the fun only elevates, but so does the pressure to live up to expectations and the work required to do so. Earning roles in the theater and even, dare they consider it possible, the motion picture industry, is tough competition, and talent alone can't bridge every gap. The money situation at home fluctuates between decent and miserable, but the girls do everything in their power to grow what meager resources are left at Sylvia's disposal, and the boarders are happy to lend a hand when they can, supporting the Fossils through their own ways and means. A childhood in professional entertainment is a grand escapade, and every tale of Pauline, Petrova, and Posy's youth brims with excitement, thoughtfulness, and the magic of love, but their grandest adventures may come after the book is finished. This is the sweetest truth of Ballet Shoes or any transcendent literature: what's yet to come in life promises the possibility of more enchantment than we've ever known, taking us places we never dreamed we'd go. A story never ends with its final page because there's always more to see, know, and experience. Life is the adventure that doesn't quit, all the way to the end.

Ah, there are so many episodes in this lustrous novel that deserve individual appreciation. Petrova feels stymied by hours of daily ballet instruction, but finds release as she gets to know Mr. Simpson. The man loves to tinker with his automobile, and offers to clue Petrova in on the work, patiently explaining the ins and outs of auto repair. Petrova is cut out for labor like this, not the frills and elegance of ballet. When Mr. Simpson purchases a local garage to service cars for a living and invites Petrova to join him whenever her schedule permits, she is elated: finally, a way to regularly engage her mechanical knowhow. Without Mr. Simpson in the story, Petrova would likely be left out of a lot of what happens in Ballet Shoes, but happily that isn't the case. Pauline's first big acting part, as Alice in Alice in Wonderland, is a dream sprung to life, but she isn't immune to the vanity that tempts every burgeoning star. She grows overly proud of her early accomplishments, and the story of how she overcomes her temporarily brattish affect is sweet and affirming. Pauline and Petrova's roles in a stage production of King Richard the Third make for an equally absorbing tale, as does Posy's clash with the academy instructors when Madame is sent back to Switzerland for several months to convalesce from a serious illness. Posy grew haughty about her own considerable dance skills since her inaugural days as Madame's private pupil, though haughty in an inexplicably delightful manner, and she refuses to join any public ballet class at the academy after years of solo instruction. To dance with the bourgeoisie would be an insult to her blossoming genius. Posy is an uproariously entertaining figure from age four or five on, daintily dancing en pointe before diverging into hilarious parodies of other well-known dance personalities from the academy. Only Madame is allowed to see Posy's true dance proficiency; for everyone else she sticks to comedic interpretations, so the scope of her talent remains a mystery even for the reader. Posy is no shrinking violet, however: as a six-year-old scarcely months into Madame's training regimen, Posy would get a dance idea and commence executing it regardless where she was, just to see if her feet could deliver on the concept she visualized. Pauline and Petrova are chagrined by Posy's lack of self-consciousness and plead with the grownup watching over them to have her stop, but Posy isn't showing off when she dances in public. She's merely acting in harmony with the movements that start in her head and spread to her limbs, obeying their artistic mandate. I daresay every story in Ballet Shoes that features Posy invariably delivers a smile. There is so much to be entertained by and to love about all three Fossils.

Then there are the tidbits of wisdom, thought, challenge, revealing humor, and social comparison that fuel Ballet Shoes, too many to cover comprehensively in this review. You'll come across them when you read the book yourself, lucky reader. Pauline, Petrova, and Posy are impressed by Doctors Jakes and Smith, and both women take time to share their expertise with the girls, a boon to their intellectual growth. Doctor Jakes is an esteemed professor of literature who studies symbolism and writing technique, so Pauline is taken aback when the doctor refers to Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit as "very good reading." Pauline: "Do you think Peter Rabbit good reading? I would have thought a person who taught literature was too grand for it." Doctor Jakes: "Not a bit—very old friend of mine." Much like what Noel Streatfeild achieved in her own kids' books, Beatrix Potter created stories of wonderful entertainment and wisdom for children, masterpieces meriting no less admiration because of their accessibility to young readers. The best children's lit takes big ideas and makes them understandable for everyone, not just intellectual elites, and in my opinion there's no higher accomplishment than that. I love that Doctor Jakes feels the same way. She also stokes the fires of the Fossils' ambition by encouraging them to do good and endeavor to somehow write their names in the history books. Their humble origin as a trio of foundlings can't prevent them from excelling in any field they choose. "Making your name worthwhile is a very nice thing to do; it means you must have given distinguished service to your country in some way", Doctor Jakes tells Pauline. That's a fine goal for anyone, and the Fossil sisters are capable of it.

Prior to Pauline's ego troubles due to her smash success playing the role of Alice, she has an earlier, less prolonged episode of thinking too highly of herself in ballet class, but the teacher brings her back to earth. Pauline is a beautiful, talented girl who will never be left wanting for admirers, but she needs to realize in her formative years that it's no good to have a swelled head. With Pauline despondent after being chastened about her preening, a ballet teacher relates an anecdote of how she learned humility, and gives Pauline a simple truth to keep in mind: "Never forget that an actress can always learn until her last hour...It never matters whom you watch, you can always learn. Always, always, always, always." If you consider yourself above learning from the example of others, you cut yourself off from everything they have to teach you. The wise and supremely skilled attain preeminence by soaking up every helpful bit they can, for one can always improve if one isn't content to stand pat. Pauline learns a similar lesson during her Alice in Wonderland snafu. Doctor Jakes calls it the most important lesson for an actress, "that today's success is easily nobody at all tomorrow." You should recognize how special your triumphs are and cherish them; there's no guarantee they'll happen again. The world has a sad habit of forsaking the talented for the next big thing, paying more heed to novelty than once-in-a-generation talent. Fame is fleeting, and won't court the contemptuous forever.

Ballet Shoes is a storehouse of rewarding characters, none more so than gruff, businesslike Nana, whose actions never fail to betray her devotion to the girls when her words refuse to follow suit. When it's just her and Pauline at the house after the eldest Fossil is disciplined for her supercilious attitude on the Alice in Wonderland set, Nana comforts her with good food, a soothing bath, and words to salve her wounded heart. "You eat all that, dear, and stop fretting. Pride has to come before a fall, and that's the law of nature; you've got your fall, and now you've got to be brave and get up again." Nana is an indispensable figure in the lives of the young Fossils, and she loves her girls so. Her countenance may be austere, but there's nothing she won't do for Pauline, Petrova, or Posy. The theater can be a difficult place to grow up, moral landmines buried everywhere waiting to detonate under innocent footsteps, and Pauline isn't the only Fossil who needs to be careful not to let narcissism hijack her moral character. "It was all very well to be ambitious, but ambition should not kill the nice qualities in you." If you gain the wealth and adulation of the world but lose what makes you a worthwhile person, you're worse off than if you never rose to prominence. We want Pauline, Petrova, and Posy to remain the same homespun girls from humble beginnings we came to love, the girls we cheer for all through Ballet Shoes because they've made a home in our heart and become our precious friends. With the guidance of so many grownups who care about them, they should be okay as they scale the ladder of accomplishment to heights rarely seen. And we won't ever forget how it felt to be part of their lives.

Quality children's novels from British authors were commonplace in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but that doesn't mean they were any less terrific. Ballet Shoes is a classic, a lovely story worth rereading as frequently as you wish. You'll not only learn something, but also feel a welcome part of a refreshingly hodgepodge unrelated family that's the envy of all. Wherever its members may scatter, they'll always be connected, and that's a meaningful comfort as the narrative winds to an end. I'm so grateful for Ballet Shoes, and my heart leaps at the prospect of other novels by the same author. Nicely done, Noel Streatfeild. You're a treasure among treasures in children's literature.

Ballet Shoes is one of those books I wish I'd been able to read as a child. I would have loved to experience the lives of the Fossil girls through a child's eyes, and to have grown up with them.

Noel Streatfeild's beautiful book bewitched me with its simplicity, charm and humour. I was drawn in by the lives of Pauline, Petrova and Posy, empathising with their struggles as they grew up; laughing and crying with them over their successes and failures. Like the best children's stories, even though it's now more than three-quarters of a century old, it has hardly dated. Indeed, it seems like the passing years have only added to its charm, as all the little details of life in 1920s England give it a wholesome, almost fairy-tale like quality. (It's interesting from a historical perspective as well to read about the lives of child performers during the inter-war era). The book has the perfect blend of the ordinary (meals eaten, lessons taken, sewing dresses, making toffee and taking walks) and the magical (an explorer uncle who vanishes mysteriously, orphan children rescued from the Titanic and the Russian revolution, the huge cast of parental figures they have to protect and guide them).

There's also the theme of poverty which, much like in The Secret Garden, runs as a darker current throughout the book. Streatfeild definitely comes down on the side of those who believe that a little hardship is good for children, and that working for a living at the age of 12 is no bad thing. Although her characters live in a pre-Depression era, the book was written in 1936, so hard work, thrift and charity are continuously held up as virtuous traits - though Streatfeild is never didactic, and never preachy. As in all the best children's books, she instructs by delivering a compelling story and making us fall in love with the virtues and lives of the characters.

Of course, in the character of Winifred - the talented but mousey girl who never gets the part - we see the dark side of poverty; unlike the well-cared for Fossil children, her family is truly poor and there isn't much hope that she'll end up with a successful career. She is the sad, dark mirror of the challenging but ultimately happy lives of the Fossils.

There is perhaps, in the inevitable return of Great-Uncle Matthew (coinciding as it does with the the changing fortunes of Posy and Pauline), a little too much of the deus ex machina, but that's what we expect from a children's book isn't it? I'm willing to forgive it in the delight of reading a well-told tale.

This book and I, we've known each other for a long long time. It is one of those books that has been in my life for forever, really, I can't quite remember a time without it. Without Noel Streatfeild, without the Fossils and without Cromwell Road and Madame Fidolia. It is something I cannot quite conceive of, the unknowing of these things.

Ballet Shoes is beautiful, iconic in its way, a story of stage and screen and of destiny. It is a story about impact, about the value of that impact, and about making your mark on a world who barely notes you exist. It is wonderful. It is my heart and oh how it fits.

Pauline, Petrova and Posy ("Her name is Posy. Unfortunate, but true") are foundlings, brought home by Great Uncle Matthew to his niece and her nanny. He is an adventerous soul, rather edibly Eccentrically English in his ways, and manages to bring the first of the girls home because "he had meant to bring Sylvia back a present. Now what could be better than this?" Petrova and Posy appear in similarly unusual circumstances and are promptly adopted into the swelling nursery.

It is then that Great Uncle Matthew (GUM) disappears for several, several years. With girls to look after and money running scarce, the newly named Fossil sisters, Sylvia and Nanny have to look into alternative strategies for funding. They get lodgers in (one, to Petrova's delight, brings their car: "it was a citroen car, and it's coming here as a boarder") and it is because of those lodgers that the Fossils' world is changed forever.

Streatfeild's great skill as a writer is that she has purpose in her prose. It is a sort of intensely matter of fact style of writing; her children have a place to be and a purpose in their being there. Every child in a Streatfeild book has a vocation, found by hook or by crook, and they are intensely content once finding it. Petrova, in Ballet Shoes, is a revelation. It's rare even now to see a girl in a book being surrounded by engines and cogs and yet Petrova is that girl and she's being written in a book which first saw life in 1935.

Petrova is, I think, my favourite. She is vividly practical in her skills and her "yes, well, you can dance but I'm going to finish building my submarine now" attitude is an intense delight. It's worth contrasting this attitude towards giftedness (the air of practical use and applicability of her skills) and contrast it against the more showy and impractical (I'm not sure if I mean that, but I'll leave it for now) skills of Posy and Petrova.

It's also interesting to note the crumpety-warm feeling of contentment that purveys this book. There are worrisome moments, yes, plenty, but there's never quite the feeling of concern that things Will Go Wrong. Because they don't, I don't think, not in a Streatfeild book. They may go wrong initially but then, it is through that wrongness, that we find the right.

And, to be frank, if it did go wrong and remain wrong, Petrova would be more than capable of fixing it.

When I was in my first grade, a teacher took our class to the children's library next to school to be registered. I couldn't believe so many books could exist in just one place. After 2-3 years it turned out that this was not enough, so I got my card in the adults' library next to mine and, unfortunately, my old librarian got offended.

This teacher discovered a totally new world to me. I would be before the doors at 8 am waiting for it to open at 9 or wait for about 2 hours and find out it was Sunday, and they didn't work. I didn't even reach the return dates, and librarians were always trying to give me 3-4 instead of 1 or 2 books. They were just fetching my card without asking my details. They were even letting me dig the closed sections as they shortly got lack of any suggestions.

And I wish these librarians could recommend me this book when I was little. I wish all the librarians were like Kate from You've Got Mail (well you can't read this book without thinking of her sitting in the Fox bookshop).
Recently I found quite a lot of books I should have read while a teenager or younger. I now have a good collection of "missed" books.

It was just a right book in every way. Right message, right characters, right plot. Everything was perfect. Three sweet sisters and a warm family.


I loved every character, but my favorite was of course Posy.


Some books just create the Christmas mood, even if they are not entirely about Christmas.

And I hope there is at least one librarian somewhere who hands this book to every child she meets and says "you'll love it".

Delightful! I am madly in love with British lit. This is a book that loves children.

I found this story quite dull. Not much is happening expect they go to different classes and get more and more successful in their way. That the children could start earning money with 12 years then is crazy. I don't know if I would have liked it more in book form (and unabridged) - now I realise I've seen the adaption with Emma Watson many years ago - checking imdb... 6/10 - well probably the story can't hold my attention in whatever form.

2.5 Stars

I have a confession to make: I didn't like this book. Not really. Pauline, Petrova and Posy just didn't win me over like I thought they would. Maybe part of this is due to the fact that I am not a child, and therefore not the intended audience for this book. But this has not been a problem for me in the past, as I often really enjoy children's books. To start off with, the premise of the book was a little silly. Three sisters, Pauline, Petrova and Posy are found by their Great Uncle Matthew, or as they call him, Gum, in various locations around the world. Gum sends the three girls back to his home in England to be looked after by his niece, Sylvia, and Nana. So in reality, the three girls are only sisters by adoption. The three girls are very different: Pauline loves to act, Petrova is fascinated by motors and cars, and Posy is a beautiful dancer. Ballet Shoes follows the adventures of these three girls as they grow and realize their passions, all while struggling to make money for their family after Gum disappears.

Does Gum sound bizarre to you? That's because he is. The plot of the story (what little of a plot there is) revolves around him, as he is the source of their money, and therefore of their monetary difficulties when he disappears. We don't actually see Gum until the end of the novel, when he miraculously appears again and acts as if he has not been gone at all. The ending of the book was particularly problematic for me; it all just felt very rushed and sudden. It is decided that Posy will go with Nana to Czechoslovakia to be trained as a dancer, while Pauline is going to Hollywood with Sylvia to be an actress. This leaves Petrova to Gum's guidance. Gum seems like an incredibly unsuitable guardian to me. Petrova barely knows the man, yet she's more than willing to live with him and say goodbye to her sisters? It really just made no sense to me.The whole presence of Gum was strange for me and I disliked how the three girls were just thrown together and then left to be cared for by their two guardians.

The other aspect of the book that I just couldn't get past was the tediousness of it all. Every outfit was explained (and there were a lot of them) and every penny the girls earned was counted for. I understand why there was such a focus on money, but the constant description of the clothes was tiresome. Part of this may be due to my own ignorance of the time period, however, as I was somewhat unfamiliar with exactly what each item of clothing actually referred to. Regardless, there were still too many descriptions of clothing for my taste. There was no real interesting plot, just constant stage shows and training and the same problems over and over again. The girls need new clothes. The money is running out. Will they get the part in this play or this dance? Nothing really happened, and the things that did happen were resolved so unrealistically and problematically for me at the end of the book that it just increased my dislike.

So if I disliked this book so much, then why did I give it 2.5 stars? Because I think, were I a child, I probably would have enjoyed it slightly more. What young girl doesn't dream of being in a ballet at least once in her life? Hell, I still dream about it. I can see young girls putting themselves in Pauline's, or Petrova's or Posy's position and imagining that they too are on stage. The characters were charming, and the story sweet, but I just found some things to be lacking and the story less charming than it could have been.

A wonderful reread of a childhood favourite.
Just perfect!

Rebecca has supplied me with a "belated British childhood". This book is delightfully British! It also has a lovely message about appreciating our individual talents.

I'm fond of all Noel Streatfeild's books, but this one, being the first I read, has a special place in my heart. It introduces Pauline, Petrova, and Posy Fossil, orphans who are adopted by an eccentric geologist who then disappears for years, leaving the girls in the care of his niece Sylvia and her old nanny, Nana. When the money he left Sylvia runs out, they decide to send the girls to stage school.

The story and characters are lively and memorable, and Streatfeild describes the girls' training and their dreams and goals with warmth, humor, and a realism which makes the book come alive. I've probably read it twenty times or more, and I find it delightful every time.

I love this book so much. I was afraid that revisiting it as an adult would lose some of the sparkle, but no, I remember being the child that I was when I first read this book (and then reread it and reread it and...). A Midsummer Night's Dream was my first ever Shakespeare because I read this book so much I wanted to read anything related to it. I memorized bits of that play, and bits from this book, because I mentally existed in this story. I wanted a pair of overalls because of Petrova. This was baby's first found family (literally, haha).

It's just such a gloriously lovely book, and I almost cried a few times rereading it because it's so beautiful. I can't believe I haven't come back to this sooner.