Trixie Belden - a heroine for our times (National Post, July 14)

I remember childhood summers for the freedom to read what I wanted for however long I wanted.

For years, I was hooked on girls' series books: Apart from universal favourite Nancy Drew, I was also fond of the Trixie Belden series, because horses and stable settings were frequently featured, and horses were my great passion at the time. Given the pre-feminist nature of life for girls then, Trixie and Nancy should have been unambitious, unempowered and boy-crazy, but that's not what I remember.

I found a single ancient leftover in the attic called Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Blinking Eye, aimed at Trixie's 1953 demographic. I reread it analytically to see what had so appealed to my youthful imagination -- unmediated by postmodern literary theory, feminist ideology or historical prescience as it was.

The actual "mystery" is too ludicrous for words. But the presentation of Trixie and her circle of friends is fascinating when seen from today's vantage point. Trixie is 14 years old, an attractive young teenager with "sandy-coloured curls and blue eyes."

That's it as a physical description. Is she thin? Doesn't say. The cover illustration has her in a perky (loose) middy blouse and pleated skirt with flat ballet-type shoes. She looks healthy, but her body communicates no sexuality. She wears no discernible makeup. Trixie is a girl, not a woman.

The plot involves a trip to New York with a few girlfriends and an assortment of brothers and male friends. They are travelling as a group, but will stay at the penthouse apartment of one of the group's parents. There a housekeeper will be loosely in charge, though she is conveniently absent all day visiting a sister in hospital. The parents are at home in Maine or abroad. In the tradition of these formula serials, parents are always out of the picture. Significantly, the parents are portrayed as much loved and in frequent communication with their children by telephone (and in happy reunion at the end).

We are told Trixie is "stuck" on a boy called Jim, but nothing physical happens between them. (Jim helps Trixie out in a tight situation at the end, though).

Much of the book is an informational tour of New York's most visited sites. At the Statue of Liberty, they (and their young readers) learn the history of Ellis Island. At the United Nations they avidly follow the guides' explanations. These kids are eager for knowledge, excited to be in a great city and bursting with outer-directed energy.

Of course they are all white, middle-class (some of them rich) and heterosexual, but extreme sensitivity is shown in their interactions with immigrants and poor people.

Trixie is the acknowledged "brain" of the group, and both boys and girls defer to her courage, deductive powers and leadership. Nobody has "issues." No one is depressed, bummed out or mad at the world. The boys are naturally protective of the girls in tough situations, the girls are properly admiring of the boys' protectiveness, but there are no shrinking violets amongst the girls, no strutting chest-thumpers amongst the boys. They share domestic duties, both cooking and cleanup, and all together one night whip up a delicious meal for the tired housekeeper. Respect for each other, for and from elders is pervasive.

Any plot suspense has to do with the "mystery," not personal conflicts. Trixie shows both resourcefulness, and at the end, some foolhardiness that almost gets her hurt. She apologizes to her worried friends and parents for heedlessly transgressing the rules of prudence. The book is so anachronistic today that it might as well have been written in 1853. And yet, at the time, I found it as engrossing as any today's teen finds Tomb Raider.

Was I or any other of her readers "like" Trixie? No, but I liked her. I imagined her as an ideal kind of friend. I suppose that means I did not find her wholesomeness ironic or hilariously nerdy, or her outer-directedness a mask covering dark family secrets and insecurities. Trixie was safe to emulate. She was sure of her values.

In fact, she fairly exuded "moral clarity," which didn't make her a prudish conservative, it just meant she was a typically decent human being. She was "equal" to boys. No one was exploiting her. She was using her energy, imagination and intelligence to learn and grow in responsibility and intellectual awareness, not for narcissistic, exhibitionistic, premature explorations of her sexuality.

Trixie was soooo 1950s. I wish today's 14 year olds considered her soooo 2004.

© National Post 2004