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pbraue13 's review for:
Harriet the Spy
by Louise Fitzhugh
lighthearted
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Harriet the Spy - Louise Fitzhugh
This is one of those rare books that doesn’t just stay with you, it forms you. First published in 1964, Louise Fitzhugh’s brilliant, unflinching novel about an eleven-year-old girl who wants to be a writer is as emotionally honest and daring now as it was then. It’s funny, poignant, a little dangerous, and quietly revolutionary.
This is one of those rare books that doesn’t just stay with you, it forms you. First published in 1964, Louise Fitzhugh’s brilliant, unflinching novel about an eleven-year-old girl who wants to be a writer is as emotionally honest and daring now as it was then. It’s funny, poignant, a little dangerous, and quietly revolutionary.
Harriet M. Welsch is no typical kid. She carries a notebook with her everywhere, scribbling down observations about the world, often with brutal honesty. She spies, she eavesdrops, she writes what she sees, and she refuses to apologize for her curiosity. It’s a book about truth: about seeking it, writing it, hiding it, and paying the price for it when it's exposed.
But what makes "Harriet the Spy" feel especially radical is the way it gives children space to live outside societal norms. Sport, Harriet’s best friend, manages the household for his struggling writer father, he cooks, cleans, and keeps their world afloat. Janie, Harriet’s other close friend, doesn’t want to be a wife or a mother; she dreams of blowing up the world (in a science lab, not a tantrum), and becomes a vision of ambition and rebellion. Fitzhugh doesn’t moralize these characters. She just lets them be, a message to every young reader that there is no single right way to grow up.
And Harriet herself, who writes with a voice so direct and uncensored it sometimes alienates her classmates, experiences a kind of social exile when her private diary is discovered and read aloud. The trauma of having her inner world exposed is intense, and in many ways, it reads as a powerful allegory for coming out, especially poignant given that Louise Fitzhugh was a lesbian writing in an era where that part of her identity had to be hidden. Harriet’s raw self is too much for others at first, but she learns how to live with it, and how to hold on to it. The arc of her story mirrors the struggle of being seen, misunderstood, and eventually reclaiming one’s voice.
Personally, "Harriet the Spy" changed everything for me. It was the book that got me to start keeping a journal. It was the first time I saw writing not just as something you did for school, but as a tool for understanding the world and yourself. Harriet made me believe that writing could be a way of life, a kind of armor, and a declaration of who you are.
At its core, this is a book about a deep, abiding love of writing. Not just the polished, published kind, but the messy, unfiltered, often secret kind that starts in a notebook and burns inside you. Harriet’s world is often uncomfortable, and her truths sometimes hurt, but Fitzhugh never flinches. She trusts her readers to grapple with complexity, and to love Harriet not despite her flaws, but because of them.
This isn’t just a children’s book. It’s a blueprint for young creatives, an anthem for outsiders, and a lifelong companion for anyone who ever felt like their thoughts were a little too big for their world.