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by Candice Ransom
The Long Secret
by Louise Fitzhugh
I was a sixth grader when I read a new book called Harriet the Spy. Unaware it was a ground-breaking children's book, I knew Harriet the Spy
wasn't like anything I'd read before. It was set in New York City where they had sidewalks. Harriet could walk to the drugstore for an egg cream,
whatever that was. She was bossy and interesting. And she was a spy! Feverishly I created my own spy belt complete with spiral notebook, pencil, plastic
magnifying glass, and bird guide in case I couldn't find anybody to spy on.
Even though Harriet wanted to be a writer, as I did, I couldn't identify with her. Harriet's world was too alien and Harriet herself too brash. A year
later I read The Long Secret, which focused Beth Ellen Hansen, Harriet's classmate. Harriet's mother remarks that Beth Ellen's mother is always
"at Biarritz." I didn't know Biarritz from soup beans—I thought it was a mental institution. Yet I identified with this shy girl who lived with her
grandmother because her father had pulled a vanishing act and her mother didn't want her. In many ways, Beth Ellen was me.
When I was seven, I spent my first weekend with my father and his wife. My father walked out on our family years before, leaving my mother with a
six-year-old, a ten-month-old baby, no money, and no place to live. In time my mother remarried and we moved to the country (hence my lust for sidewalks).
My older sister had spent several weekends with our father and now I was going, too.
For the occasion I wore a brown dress because, as my sarcastic sister said, it made me look poor and Daddy might give me money (he never paid a dime in
child support). I also wore brown knee socks that slid down my skinny calves and brown shoes. I was not blonde and pretty like Beth Ellen Hansen but I
was shy like her. I fretted over what I would say to my father. I wanted to make a good impression—not a simple task for a kid strapped in drab
brown. Most of all, I wanted him to love me.
It was a difficult weekend. My sister displayed her usual outrageous behavior, flirting with older boys she met, while I fluttered like a brown moth. My
father called me Candy, which I hated, and told me to eat more. In the park, I found a baby starling and drew a picture of it with a fountain pen on
onionskin paper. (Everything in my father's apartment seemed exotic.) I showed the picture to my father but about that time the door burst open and in
rushed four children.
"Grandaddy!" cried a pretty blonde girl as she hurled herself in my father's arms.
"Vicky!" he cried, hoisting her to her shoulders.
The kids tumbled around my father like puppies. He laughed and hugged them. It dawned on me these were my stepmother's grandchildren. My father had
another family I never knew about.
The Long Secret is set in Watermill, Long Island, where Harriet and Beth Ellen stay for the summer. The book opens with, "The notes were
appearing everywhere." Harriet's spying takes a backseat to solving the mystery. Who is leaving anonymous notes with caustic Bible quotes? Beth Ellen
seems detached from the seaside drama until she learns her mother is coming to Watermill. She hasn't seen her mother since she was five. Zeeny is a
flighty oft-married stranger who flits from one European city to another because America bores her. Beth does not want to see her.
When Zeeny arrives, latest husband in tow, she calls her daughter Beth because Beth Ellen is "tacky." She changes Beth Ellen's hair and clothes and trots
her out at the Bath and Tennis Club like a show dog. When Zeeny decides to take Beth Ellen back to Europe, meek Beth Ellen explodes. Her anger is as
forceful as a geyser. She realizes she has power over her mother and uses it. In her way, she has been wielding her power all along. It's no surprise
when Beth Ellen is revealed as the anonymous note-leaver.
Reviewers called The Long Secret a sequel to Harriet the Spy, but gave it little attention. Critics had slammed Harriet the Spy with
negative reviews, stating the book was really for adults. But children read the book and still do. I never felt The Long Secret was a sequel.
It was a different book and, in many ways, a better book despite some flaws (the dual viewpoints of Beth Ellen and Harriet, for example).
The book's roots tap into Louise Fitzhugh's own troubled childhood. Her father, a lawyer from a venerable Southern family, married "beneath" him. The
divorce was bitter, with young Louise the object of a tug-of-war. Her father obtained custody and Louise grew up in Samarkand, her grandparents' rambling
gothic mansion.
Though my family lacked mansions and chauffeurs, I understood exactly how Beth Ellen felt. During that awful weekend, my father checked me out to see if
I did him justice. I didn't pass muster so he tossed me back like an undersized perch. Like Beth Ellen, I seethed with anger. My father was not those
other kids' grandfather. He was my father. But they had his heart. And I never would. Unlike Beth Ellen, I kept my anger bottled up until I was in my
twenties and finally confronted my father (gaining no satisfaction).
The Long Secret tackles other issues previously taboo in children's books. Published five years before Judy Blume's Are You There, God? It's
Me, Margaret, The Long Secret holds religion up to a strong light. Menstruation is discussed when Beth Ellen has her period. When I started
menstruating a year later, I identified with Beth Ellen once more (after declaring to my mother I was never doing that again).
Would today's children want to read The Long Secret with its sharp metaphors and satiric view of the empty life of the idle rich? Certainly fans
of Harriet the Spy would enjoy the book simply to read more about Harriet. And the book is chock full of funny moments and zany characters.
Best of all, The Long Secret is a wonderful gift for that special child who has learned a sad, hard lesson.
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