The Willoughbys

The four Willoughby children can't stand their parents, and the feeling is mutual. When their parents set off on a dangerous world tour, leaving their children with a nanny and putting the house on the market, the children hope they'll wind up orphans. Is a happy ending possible? Artfully, Lowry plays on gothic traditions of old. Arte Johnson nurses the irony in the story and pounces on its wordplay. He highlights the cruelty of older, controlling brother Tim; the meekness of youngest sister Jane; and the cool, comforting tones of Nanny. Throughout he walks the delicate balance of humor and saccharine tones the author intends. This delightful story pulls in children and their parents for a great family listen. S.W. (c) AudioFile 2008, Portland, Maine

Starred review from February 4, 2008
Signature

Reviewed by
Lemony Snicket
Lois Lowry, who casts her noble and enviable shadow wide across the landscape of children's literature, from fantasy to realism, here turns her quick, sly gaze to parody, a word which in this case means “a short novel mocking the conventions of old-fashioned children's books stuffed with orphans, nannies and long-lost heirs.” These clichés are ripe if familiar targets, but Ms. Lowry knocks off these barrel-dwelling fish with admirable aplomb in The Willoughbys
, in which two wicked parents cannot wait to rid themselves of their four precocious children, and vice versa, and vice versa versa, and so on. The nanny adds a spoonful of sugar and a neighboring candy magnate a side order of Dahl, if you follow me, as the book's lightning pace traipses through the hallmarks of classic orphan literature helpfully listed in the bibliography, from the baby on the doorstep to the tardy yet timely arrival of a crucial piece of correspondence.
The characters, too, find these tropes familiar—“What would good old-fashioned people do in this situation?” one asks—as does the omniscient, woolgathery narrator, who begins with “Once upon a time” and announces an epilogue with “Oh, what is there to say at the happy conclusion of an old-fashioned story?” This critic even vaguely recognizes the stratagem of a glossary, in which the more toothsome words are defined unreliably and digressively. (He cannot put his finger on it, at least not in public.) Never you mind. The novel does make a few gambits for anachronistic musings (“Oh goodness, do we have to walk them into a dark forest? I don't have the right shoes for that”) and even wry commentary (“That is how we billionaires exist,” says the man who is not Willy Wonka. “We profit on the misfortune of others”) but mostly the book plays us for laughs, closer to the Brothers Zucker than the Brothers Grimm, and by my count the hits (mock German dialogue, e.g., “It makesch me vant to womit”) far outnumber the misses (an infant named Baby Ruth, oy).
There are those who will find that this novel pales in comparison to Ms. Lowry's more straight-faced efforts, such as The Giver
. Such people are invited to take tea with the Bobbsey Twins. Ms. Lowry and I will be across town downing something stronger mixed by Anastasia Krupnik, whom one suspects of sneaking sips of Ms. Lowry's bewitching brew. Tchin-tchin!
Lemony Snicket is the author of A Series of Unfortunate Events.