Reiss probes the fabric of time through the story of 13-year-old Miranda's adventures after she explores her attic and finds a dollhouse that replicates the details of her new home. When she peers through the attic windows of the dollhouse, she witnesses past events in the lives of an eight-year-old girl named Dorothy in 1904 and two brothers in the 1940s. Caught up in piecing together the disparate vignettes, Miranda finds the house has infected generations of women inhabitants--including her mother and aunt--with psychologically abusive behavior. Through an elaborate web of events, Miranda desperately seeks a way to save Dorothy from accidental death and, thereby, changes time. While logically developed, the evil-mother/savior-father motif is uncomfortable, even though Reiss subtly develops the repressive, frustrating atmosphere experienced by women in the past. Reiss spins a fascinating tale that requires readers to rapidly absorb many plot threads by the final chapter; but, in probing the possibilities, she will spark readers to speculate on the interrelation of events through time. (Reviewed Nov. 1, 1991)

Miranda Browne and her family have moved to an old house in the country when Miranda realizes that something is terribly wrong. The house seems evil and unwelcoming, and Miranda sees scenes from its unhappy past through the window of a dollhouse that is an exact replica of their new home. Miranda's struggle to prevent the death of a child who lived in the house many years earlier makes an exciting story, and the difficult problem of the consequences of altering the past is well worked out.

When Miranda, 13, and her parents come to live in Massachusetts, Miranda finds an old dollhouse, a replica of their new home, in the attic. A more unsettling discovery: by peering through the dollhouse windows, she can observe the past, especially (according to a kitchen calendar) in 1904. Piecing together nonsequential scenes, she learns of an angry mother who's frustrated in her desire to work outside the home and whose abuse of her daughter Dorothy includes locking her in the attic. Another family, during WW II, repeats the pattern of a mother whose anger is linked to wanting a job; this woman attributes her behavior to the house itself, and the family moves. Then Miranda's mother too becomes irrationally abusive and laments her thwarted career—bizarre, since she's a successful M.D. Miranda eventually unravels a mystery that readers will have solved already: Dorothy didn't die in a train wreck but was trapped in the attic. More ingeniously, Miranda finds a way to change history: finding the attic key, she gives it to Dorothy through the dollhouse, with the result that several things change in the present—e.g., Dorothy is still alive. With numerous deftly sketched characters, including a sympathetic boy next door, an intriguing plot, and such dividends as a secret room used to hide escaping slaves, this should keep readers interested. Well wrought and entertaining. (Fiction. 10- 14)"

Gr 5-9-- Moving from New York City to an old house near Boston, Miranda, 14, becomes obsessed with what she sees through the windows of a dollhouse she finds in the attic. She discovers that her new home is haunted by beautiful, angry, abusive Lucinda. In 1904, Lucinda locked her young daughter, Dorothy, in the attic and left her stuffy husband to run away with a lover, and then was killed in a train wreck. Her malignant influence soon begins to work on Miranda's mother. In a page-turning climax, Miranda realizes that only she can save her mother from madness by rescuing Dorothy and changing the past. Although the book raises profound philosophic questions and deals with strong passions, its style, characterization, and emotional trajectory do not match its potential. The greatest problem is Lucinda. Readers are never sure whether she is an archetypal figure of pure evil or a strong-willed woman declaring her independence from a narrow, repressive husband. Is she caricature or character? How and why does she influence the other characters? Also, a love interest between Miranda and the boy across the street occurs with implausible ease. Pam Conrad's Stonewords (HarperCollins, 1990), Eleanor Cameron's The Court of the Stone Children (Dutton, 1973), Diana Wynne Jones's Fire and Hemlock (Greenwillow, 1984), and Ursula K. LeGuin's adult novel The Lathe of Heaven (Bentley, 1982) all create more complex characters while facing the philosophical implications of changing the past. Still, the well-structured mystery, the fast-moving plot, and the accessible prose make this a useful addition to fantasy shelves. --Margaret A. Chang, Buxton School, Williamstown, MA