The Return of the Twelves

by Pauline Clarke

A young boy's discovery of twelve wooden soldiers that once belonged to the Brontë children leads to an exciting adventure. Awarded the 1962 Carnegie Medal for the outstanding children's book by an English author.

Genres: Fantasy, Childrens, Classics, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Middle Grade, Juvenile

296 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1962

About the author

Also wrote under Helen Clare, for younger children and for adults under her married name Pauline Hunter Blair.

Reviews

[Mir · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm sorry I didn't know about this book as a child, I think it would have been a favorite. It is very much in the tradition of classic British children's fantasy, a la E Nesbit and Edward Eager.

Moving to a new house near Haworth, young Max finds a set of wooden soldiers hidden in the attic. Once the possession of the Bronte children, the soldiers have taken on the identities from the Brontes' youthful stories and come to life.

The plot is charming and gentle, and Clarke portrays the modern children's personalities and relationships very convincingly.

There are some gems here for adults as well. I loved eight-year-old Max's attempt at cultural relativism:

If he were an Ashanti king, the first person he would sacrifice would be Anthony Gore. He knew that it was wrong to make human sacrifices, but then, if were an Ashanti king in those old days, he would not know this, so it would be all right. He supposed. When they knew better, they stopped doing it. Max wondered if they missed it very much.

My one major complaint is not with the author at all. I have the first American edition, by Coward-McCann (1963). I hope they are (or were, since I think they were absorbed by Penguin) properly ashamed of the inexcusably sloppy job they did printing this. There are several places in the second half where text is suddenly cut off, skipped, or replaced with text that was already printed on an earlier page. Big chunks that I don't see how any proofreader could have missed, like one page ending a paragraph and the next starting mid-sentence. This happened enough that I did actually miss a couple bits out of the story.

[Alwynne · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Papa brought Branwell some soldiers at Leeds. When Papa came home it was night and we were in bed, so next morning Branwell came to our door with a box of soldiers. Emily and I jumped out of bed and I snatched up one and exclaimed: “This is the Duke of Wellington! It shall be mine!” when I had said this, Emily likewise took one up and said it should be hers; when Anne came down, she said one should be hers. Mine was the prettiest of the whole, and the tallest, and the most perfect in every part. Emily’s was a grave-looking fellow, and we called him “Gravey”. Anne’s was a queer little thing, much like herself. He was called Waiting Boy. Branwell chose Bonaparte.” - March 12, 1829, Charlotte Brontë

The Brontë children were inspired by this gift of twelve toy soldiers to write a series of imaginary adventures for them, including their famous Glass Town sagas. The Brontës cast themselves as the genii who brought their toys to life. In this wonderfully imaginative, children’s book, awarded the 1962 Carnegie Medal, Pauline Clarke (aka Helen Clare) builds on the history of the long-lost twelve with her fantasy about their rediscovery by a small boy Max. It’s the early 1960s, the ever-curious Max pries open a loose floorboard in the attic of his family’s new home in Yorkshire and there wrapped in a filthy rag he finds twelve, dilapidated toy soldiers, toys who spring into action when they think nobody’s looking. Max becomes their latest genie, he tends them carefully, saving them from certain doom between the paws of a ferocious pet cat or calamity from tumbles down steep flights of stairs. But when it becomes widely known that these were once the property of the renowned Brontës, the soldiers’ future seems increasingly perilous.

Clarke’s classic story has considerable charm, I loved the way that each soldier has his own distinctive personality and quirks, and the playful, amusing portrayal of their interactions with Max. Although there were moments when I couldn’t help wondering if Clarke’s creations were partly influenced by Mary Norton’s earlier Borrowers. Clarke also manages to weave a great deal of Brontë lore into her narrative without too much dry recitation of factual material. Instead, she introduces a local character who’s an avid Brontë fan, nicknamed “Mr Rochester” by Max’s sister who loves Jane Eyre; and the soldiers themselves treat Max to numerous tall tales of past exploits, drawn from the Brontës’ juvenilia. Clarke’s a very effective storyteller, good enough to make me anxious about the soldiers’ possible fate. She raises interesting questions about heritage and the use of war toys too but there’re awkward elements: I found the assumptions about gender roles annoying; and some of the Ashanti references were grating, although they did lead me to explore some of the military history that fascinated the young Brontës and informed their conception of the twelve’s fictional worlds. Overall this was highly entertaining and my Puffin edition was enhanced by artist Cecil Mary Leslie’s evocative, black-and-white illustrations.

[dianne b. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book as a child during one of my many days scrounging in the yummy, musty library of the town i grew up in. Gillions of years later, when I had my own children I had no idea what the title was - although I never forgot the Young Men.
This is why children’s librarians are crucial to our survival. After the fight to fund San Francisco’s libraries, I stood in my branch feeling a tad foolish asking, “Yeah, a story about some little soldiers who are alive?...” to which the librarian said, "Oh, yes; that would be The Return of the Twelves.”

I love this book. Maybe it could only happen in ancient Britain where every reasonable village church is at least 800 years old and full of delicious pagan alchemy - and every village ghost’s adventures are well known, and recorded studiously. Like The Racketty-Packetty House, the locale, in my mind, of the first Burning Man festival.

But the children who find the Bronte’s toys, about whom they wrote delightful tales and far flung adventures, and which come alive more than a century later, are real. I won’t argue this point with you. They’re alive. Awful, greedy adults are too, as are adult allies - those whose eyes can recognize magic.

Jane (10 years old):
“Girls are much carefuller than boys, they keep their things longer, too, and they sort of can’t bear to throw things away...even though I don’t play with them any longer….It’s because girls love things longer.”
In response, Max (age 8):
“I think...they may love them for longer, I don’t know, but they couldn’t love them more.”

[Lori · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a dear little book, that I read because of the Brontë connection and loved because of Butter Crashey.

[Manybooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

After wearing my so-called critical analysis hat for far too long and also much too often recently and also having this certainly make me increasingly emotionally sour and thus rather unable to simply read children's novels only and primarily for pleasure and enjoyment, I have decided to for the most part yank off this proverbial hat with regard to Pauline Clarke's 1962 Carnegie Medal winning The Twelve And The Genii and to only allow my inner child to have a say about liking or disliking Pauline Clarke's featured story and to tell my much more critical adult self to mostly be quiet or at least to be considerably less interfering, to simply allow myself to textually enjoy myself as I most definitely and one hundred percent would have had I encountered The Twelve and the Genii as a child. And yes, this also means NOT having issues with aspects of datedness and the references to African cannibalism Pauline Clarke makes in The Twelve and the Genii (for indeed as a child, what main protagonist Max Morley thinks about regarding Africa, his uncle's missionary work and Max's musings about maybe even kind of wanting to try cannibalism himself, my childhood self certainly did entertain similar such ridiculous ideas when I was encountering humorous depictions of cannibalism like in for example Astrid Lindgren's Pippi Longstocking novels).

So yes and only speaking as my inner child, I absolutely love the British/European textual feel of Pauline Clarke's text for The Twelve and the Genii, I find young Max Morley with his exaggerated and entertaining imagination delightful and I totally adore that when he, when Max finds the twelve wooden soldiers (which were once the cherished toys of the four Brontë siblings) in the attic and the soldiers identities from the Brontës' youthful stories make them come to life and become flesh and blood, Max simply and naturally accepts and believes all this without any vestiges of self doubt (and while my adult self would definitely want Pauline Clarke including an author's note about the Brontës, my inner child both knows and accepts that The Twelve and the Genii does not really require any of this, that even without knowing ANY historical background information and details about Charlotte, Anne, Emily and Bramwell Brontë, The Twelve and the Genii is fun, enjoyable and magical).

Now the chase scenes in The Twelve and the Genii and that the twelve wooden soldiers are constantly being sought after by a number of different parties who would dearly love to take them away from Max because of their monetary and cultural value (since they are very old and they also used to belong to the famous and well known Brontës when they were children) I could probably do without and also find this all rather textually tacked on by Pauline Clarke as if she thinks that her story somehow needs a bit of mystery and cloak and dagger to be complete. And yes, as someone who even as a child did not really enjoyed mysteries and cloak/dagger types of stories all that much, while those specific elements of Pauline Clarke's presented story do definitely mildly annoy me a bit regarding The Twelve and the Genii, this frustration is not in any manner sufficient to actually take anything away from my totally delightful reading time with Max Morley and his wooden soldiers, to make me completely mesh with Max, to become him and to engage in the same textual joyfulness regarding the come to life wooden soldiers that Max is shown as doing by Pauline Clarke. Thus for my inner child, The Twelve and the Genii has most definitely been a wonderful, a spectacularly engaging five star reading experience, and with my only caveat for potential readers being that they should ALWAYS attempt to get a copy of The Twelve and the Genii since in the American edition with the title The Return of the Twelves, there are a huge amount typos and accidental omissions I really cannot and will not consider The Return of the Twelves as being acceptable (and quite frankly rather an insult to the author, to Pauline Clarke).

[Ivan · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the very best children's books I've ever read. Beautifully conceived and written, and the author has done a splendid job of bringing the twelve to life in a way that never once panders or condescends to it's targeted child audience. The English countryside - a small village - toy soldiers that come to life - the Bronte's - there is something for everyone. This story is endearing, suspenseful and humorous. I didn't want it to end. I thought the young protagonist "Max" was a perfectly realized boy. The relationships with his family were spot on. This is a fantasy and an adventure and simply can't believe that it isn't held up and universally celebrated as a classic.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia...

[Ivan · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the very best children's books I've ever read. Beautifully conceived and written, and the author has done a splendid job of bringing the twelve to life in a way that never once panders or condescends to it's targeted child audience. The English countryside - a small village - toy soldiers that come to life - the Bronte's - there is something for everyone. This story is endearing, suspenseful and humorous. I didn't want it to end. I thought the young protagonist "Max" was a perfectly realized boy. The relationships with his family were spot on. This is a fantasy and an adventure and simply can't believe that it isn't held up and universally celebrated as a classic.

[rhea · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wish I had known this book my whole life, or at least the semester I took Children's Literature. I would have voted for this book when we were deciding what our last book for the semester should be. I was hooked the moment the first wooden soldier said his name was Butter Crashey. Max, the young boy in the story who finds the soldiers, was perfect he didn't overly annoy me or seem too grown-up like in some children's books. He invented words, got sad when people teased or didn't believe him, but he seemed more real or at least what I'm used to in kids. Even in my favorite children's books the main child can be overly obnoxious, rereading some of them that semester made me wonder how we put up with them while reading. I also wondered if I would've read Jane Eyre sooner in my life, which I loved, had I read this book. I have the tendency to want to read whatever it is they are talking about in another book (or movie or whatever the case may be), especially if talking about it positively. Would I have read more by the Brontës and will I now? Maybe this will make me more of a "Brontyfan" (a word in the book that disappointingly had nothing to do with dinosaurs.) I had read most of this during the day at work, while we were slow and was able to lose myself in the book, which I try not to do at work...often. I had to finish, I only had a few pages left when it was bedtime and it had me on the edge of my seat (if I had been sitting.) At some point in your life you feel too grown-up to read kid's books, I'm glad I'm past that stage in my life. Give me a good book for any age range, I'll read it, but there's definitely something different about the feelings a children's book can evoke in you!

[Margaret · Rating 4 out of 5]

Branwell Brontë's father once gave him a set of wooden toy soldiers, which Branwell and his sisters Charlotte, Emily, and Anne played with and wrote stories about, which eventually became masses of childhood writing about the kingdoms of Angria and Gondal.

In The Return of the Twelves, a boy named Max discovers the soldiers and finds out that they're alive; the imagination of the Brontës endowed the toys with names, personalities, and histories of their own. Max and his sister Jane cherish the soldiers and play with them as the Brontës did, until word gets out that they've been discovered, and Max and Jane must figure out how to keep them safe and restore them to their rightful home.

You needn't know anything about the Brontes to enjoy The Return of the Twelves, though it's even more enjoyable if you do. Clarke provides all of the necessary information in the text, and the true joy of the book is her imaginative portrayal of the soldiers themselves and of Max's relationship with them, as he insists on not treating them just as toys and allowing them to control their own destiny.

[Katie Fitzgerald · Rating 5 out of 5]

This review also appears on my blog, Read-at-Home Mom.

Max Morley has just moved into an old farmhouse when he discovers a set of twelve wooden soldiers hidden beneath a floorboard. At first, he thinks they are just old toys, but when he begins to hear them speak and see them move, he realizes there is nothing ordinary about them. In discussions with Butter Crashey, their leader, Max learns that the twelves were once owned by four genii, whose imaginations gave them a long history of adventure and battle. The four genii turn out to be the Brontë, siblings - Branwell, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne - and the soldiers are so valuable and sought after that several parties would love nothing more than to take them from Max. Thankfully, though, the Twelves prove to have their own ideas about where they belong.

I did not plan ahead of time for this project to include so many Carnegie Medal books, but this is another one. The Return of the Twelves won the award in 1962. Though I normally would scoff at a book about sentient toys, this one drew me in right away. Max is a very believable and real character, and his relationships with his parents and siblings are similar to those most children have with their own families. He handles the magic of the wooden soldiers in a way that makes sense to kids, because it is how they are likely to imagine they would act in his position. The soldiers themselves are great fun to observe in action, and the ingenious ways Max looks after them without letting on that they are not completely independent are engaging and often funny.

I took a class in college where I was assigned Wuthering Heights, and I remember my professor providing a lot of background on the Brontës during the discussion, but of course I've forgotten the details and can't find my notes. Thankfully, though, this book doesn't require any knowledge at all of any of the Brontës' writings. Max himself wonders for a good portion of the book why his new neighbor calls himself a "brontyfan," and his interest in learning about the Brontë children, and the childhood writings that chronicle the adventures of the Twelves, stems entirely from his love for the soldiers. Readers might also take a sudden interest in reading The History of the Young Men after enjoying this book, but they don't have to have any prior background knowledge at all to appreciate the story of Max and the soldiers.

It's been a while since I've felt I could truly lose myself in the world of a book, but The Return of the Twelves gave me that experience. I was with Max throughout the story, and only once was I pulled out by a detail that didn't seem to fit. (One of the soldiers talked to a rat, and the rat talked back. As this was late in the story, and no other talking animals had been introduced, this really annoyed me. But I don't tend to like talking animals very much, so I acknowledge that this might be a quirk which is specific to me.) This is a book which holds up very well considering its age, and which all literary-minded families will want to share and enjoy together.

[Anna Mussmann · Rating 4 out of 5]

When Max’s family comes to stay in the neighborhood of Haworth, home of the Brontës, he finds twelve very old wooden soldiers. It turns out that these soldiers are capable of coming alive. Each possesses his own name and personality, and each remembers stories of prior adventures. These “twelve young men” talk about being protected by the “four Genii” (the significance of which young Max does not initially see).

Lena Coakley’s novel Worlds of Ink and Shadow uses the story of the Brontë family to explore the power of imagination and storytelling. This book does something similar, but on a simpler level and for a much younger audience. It, too, draws from the writings of the real Brontë family. As a little boy, Max is most interested in Branwell, but young readers may also find their curiosity piqued by the handful of references to Jane Eyre.

I can see why this book won the Carnegie Medal in 1962. It is unusual and sometimes charming, and it makes quite a good stab at providing children with food for thought without forcing them to think anything. It even brings up the question of whether or not soldiers and war make a good game for children, and uses that issue to allow the characters to briefly wonder about the problem of evil in the world.

Personally, I disliked the initial setup of the story in which Max quarrels fiercely with his older brother. I find this sort of thing tiresome–surely children’s authors do not need to spend so much time having young characters fight just to make them “relatable.” However, considering the later discussion of whether warfare and fighting are inevitable, perhaps the author had a deeper purpose here. The family does end up unified by the end.

This is very much a vintage book. The parents are benevolently, fondly detached and allow their children freedoms that are incredible by modern standards. There are also several generalizations about gender. Furthermore, the plot is slow and would bore many modern children. I’m torn about my own response. Honestly, I was about ready to pass on this book after the first few chapters, but I persisted and enjoyed the conclusion very much. I will probably stick it on the shelf in case my kids want to read it. I think that whether this book is a hit or miss will depend very much on the particular child.

3.5 stars.

[Chad D · Rating 4 out of 5]

I did not see it coming. Worth thinking about theologically, subcreation and all that. And literarily, in dialogue with the Brontes. But worth reading to children, because it's about toys coming to life.

[Katherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'd never heard of this book before reading about it in How the Heather Looks: A Joyous Journey to the British Sources of Children's Books. It's a delightful story about a young boy discovering the twelve wooden soldiers of the Bronte children. Sure to charm a reader, of any age, who enjoyed books like Mistress Masham's Repose, The Borrowers and The Indian in the Cupboard. Particularly appealing for those who have an interest in the Bronte juvenilia.

4.5 stars

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exactly what a children's book should be: extraordinarily imaginative, includes interesting historical facts without hitting the reader over the head, and magical. I only wish I'd gotten to read it as a child!

[Sandra]

This is an incredible book! I even went to Haworth, England to see the house that the Bronte's lived in hoping to see the soldiers. Imagination is a wonderful thing.

[Kathryn]

Do NOT get 1st American Edition; lots of typos.

[Laura Oliver · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fun and interesting story, but there were a lot of spoilers for Jane Eyre and other Bronté works which seemed odd for a middle grade book.

I did think it was very fun though to tie in the stories that Branwell and his sisters created as children.

[Desertisland · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quotes:
(Page 66) He unbolted the back door and stepped out into the moon. His sharp eyes searched the yard. There he was. It was certainly Stumps, standing still, his shadow like a little clothespin. Max wondered whether it felt terrifying to be so little in such a huge world, under such an enormous moon-washed sky! He thought of all the other small creatures, mice, toads, beetles, some much tinier than Stumps, ants and spiders and furry caterpillars. No doubt to God, he, Max seemed quite as small and needing help. He felt he would like to protect all the creatures, and wondered who did. His job now was to protect Stumps.
Max felt so pleased that Stumps was found that he was about to hurry over and swoop upon him, and carry him up to his safe attic....
But then he had a great longing to see if Stumps would manage for himself, would notice the creeper, and be able to climb that twisty thick trunk up to his window? There Max could take him in and rescue him.

(Page 157) "If I think hard tonight I may be able to see what they did."
Jan looked at Max, interested.
"It's almost as if what you imagine for them, they do, isn't it? It's almost as if you put the ideas into their heads, as if you were kind of...kind of...God to them? This is what Genii means, I 'spose".
"It was, when I wanted Stumps to climb the creeper. Because just as I was thinking it, he did it. But this is the other way round, you see, because they've done it, they've gone, and I've got to imagine where."

(Page 160) "If only I could imagine what's happened."
"Perhaps you can try tonight," suggested Jane. "It must be almost what people do who write stories, don't you think?"
"Well, that's what the Four Genii DID!" Max replied.

(page 167) "And there are two more letters, one saying that there will always be wars while human nature is what it is, and why shouldn't boys play with soldiers?
"'Boys will be boys,' it says, 'and girls will join them in such military games, whether they are Branwell Bronte and his sisters, or the children who buy lead or bright plastic soldiers today. Battle, struggle and adventure against enemies are part of the pattern of living, it seems, and much as we all now hate war, they look as if they will go on being. Until men ar perfect in humanity they will fight.'" This seemed a solemn letter and there was a pause.
"Mummy, do you think people ever will be perfect in humanity, or whatever he said?" asked Jane.
"Well, do you think people could have been created with anything LESS to aim at? she replied. "If we take it God created them."
"No, but will it be HERE, on earth?" Philip asked. "or only afterwards, in heaven? Because I think it's dull if so. I don't know anything about heaven."
"As far as we can judge looking a history, " put in Mr. Morley, "there's no sign of its happening on earth, now, is there?"
"Why not? asked Max, fiercely. It seemed a terrible failure on the part of humanity. Why did people not do something about it?
"Because people DON'T love each other perfectly, which is what being perfect in humanity, put simply, could mean, I suppose," Mrs. Morley said. "As often as not they hate each other, and therefore they fight."
"But why does God LET them hate each other?" demanded Max. And at once he blushed, thinking of how he had hated and fought Philip.
"That," said his father, "is the deepest and most difficult mystery we ever have to face and I don't know an answer to it. Mr. Howson will tell you it's because God gave us free will, and our will is not all good, so we go wrong. Now listen, the other letter's very interesting. Shall I read it?"
...."And guess who it is (by)? Mr Howson! said their father.

(Page 186) She was extremely impressed at Max's dream, or imagining, or vision about the Young Men's departure and particularly about the string.
"And by the way, my marbles HAVE disappeared." Max added.

(Page 188) "You see," Max said, in a dreamlike sort of tone, whuch Jane recognized as the one he used when he was making things up in his imagination, in their games, "you see, they camped here, for the day. It's a super place to hide."

(Page 211)"The elder Genii, knows what he is about," remarked Sneaky. "He is as artful and ingenious as...as..."
"The ingenious Sneaky," muttered Parry. "You make the Genii in your own image."

(Page 238) Mr. Howson did not know what to think. He stared at the Morleys in turn, and then at the field and then at the moon. He had in fact been sitting with an old man of his parish, a friend of his, in an outlying cottage, who had been ill for weeks and tonight had died. This was why he was out on this road after two in the morning. Death was so solemn anyway, and made the watcher think such strange and mysterious thoughts about the nature of thngs, that Mr. Howson was not unduly surprised at finding Jane and Max and hearing a tale which seemed impossible.

(Page 239) Mr. Howson thought, I cannot believe it, and yet here they are before my eyes. Such is the power of genius to make things alive. So do creative genii echo their Creator.

[Dianna · Rating 4 out of 5]

A must-read for any Brontë fan (brontyfan).

[Cricket Muse · Rating 5 out of 5]

Books like the Borrowers, a tiny family in a big world, enthralled me as a child. Somehow, The Return of the Twelves, which echoes believing the unbelievable, escaped my reading attention.
As an adult, and a “brontyfan,” I appreciate this story so much more. It’s rather a back door introduction for young readers to the brilliance of Charlotte and her Bronte siblings.
The story itself is typical of the sixties, where children are precocious and are possessed of much more independence than their contemporary readers. Parents are presented as absent-minded, patronizing, or clueless of their children’s lives.
Clarke’s story presents a likable cast of characters, particularly Max, who becomes protector of the Twelves or Young Men. His responses to their animation have a sense of verisimilitude as he both indeed at their existence while remaining fiercely protective of them. The plot cleverly provides the actions of the Twelves through a combination of the present and through Max’s imaginative efforts.
At times the plot wobbles on timeworn, but will suddenly turn the corner with a refreshing twist.
A satisfying read for those who like adventure and can still believe at least six impossible things before breakfast.

[Jenny · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I read How the Heather Looks, a fair amount of classic Brit kids' lit that I'd never heard of before made it onto my shelves, including this one. There was no way I could resist the premise: the Bronte siblings' much-beloved toy soldiers, life breathed into them through the inventiveness of Charlotte, Branwell, Emily, and Anne, are found after a hundred years in an attic, by a curious little boy, and adventures ensue.

I wasn't sure at first how well it would work as a piece of juvenile fiction--the premise is FABULOUS, but would most appeal to someone who already knows and loves the Bronte family, but the book seems to be aimed at kids who are a bit too young for Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. But after reading it, I think it might work beautifully as an introduction to the Brontes, a way of whetting the appetite for the books in a young reader's future.

For the first half of the book, I was engaged because I love the Brontes, and this felt like an in-joke, a way to share that delight with someone else. But by the end, I was loving the book for its own merits, and even started tearing up. It was absolutely delightful, and I would recommend getting your hands on a copy if you have the opportunity.

[Carri · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 1826, the Reverend Patrick Bronte brought home a box of toy soldiers to his son, Branwell. These toy soldiers became a creative focus for the Bronte siblings (Branwell, Charlotte, Emily and Anne). The children created personalities and personal histories for each soldier, and imagined many adventures and exploits involving them. These histories would later be recorded by Branwell in The History of the Young Men.
This interesting story about the childhood of the famous Brontes is the basis for the fantasy story The Return of the Twelves by Pauline Clark. When Max Morley discovers the twelve wooden soldiers in his family home in Yorkshire and sees them come to life, he assumes the role of a sort of protective guardian to them. They reveal their stories and histories to Max and he begins to realize that they are the well known toys of the Bronte children. When others begin to suspect the origins of Max's newfound toys, the Twelves escape from the Morley family attic and set out across the moor toward the safety of the Bronte nursery at Haworth, which is now a museum. An endearing and well-written story.

[MindfulMuslimReader · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book imparts a rare virtue - illustrating how to show empathy to those who are vulnerable while preserving their dignity and pride. The sensitivity of the eight-year-old protagonist toward the tiny soldiers he is responsible for is nothing short of remarkable. Despite their size and helplessness, he consistently demonstrates thoughtful consideration for their feelings—taking care not to frighten them, going out of his way to ensure they can maintain their independence, and respecting their wishes even at a personal cost. He recognizes the importance of allowing them agency to make decisions and accomplish tasks on their own. This story fosters a profound sense of empathy and respect that will equip children with the ability to show compassion thoughtfully to young and old alike.

We rate children's books for virtue, language, story, and beauty and flag content advisories when needed. We read cover to cover so you don’t have to.

Read more at MindfulMuslimReader.com.
“Books Worth Reading”

[Amy Bea · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm thinking this lovely book is one I'd want to read to children. The story of the twelve toy soldiers trying to make their way back to Haworth, where their stories were actually created by Branwell Bronte, was such adventure. I wasn't sure how the author was going to work it, but she did it so well. It's reminiscent of the Indian in the Cupboard and now I want to read about Branni Bronte myself. A thank you to the author for bringing this story to me.

[Corina Barry · Rating 4 out of 5]

A delightful book I'd have loved to have read as a child. I remember it appearing as a serial in the School Magazine. Finally got around to revelling in this magical tale of toy soldiers which belonged to the Bronte children, and their adventures over a hundred years later with their new and final genii.

[Ketutar Jensen · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is a cute little story of the Brontë toy soldiers, which to me would have been an important little detail. It would have been fun to read this together with The History of The Young Men for Victober.

[Naomi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Delightful children's story I wish id got to read as a child. Brimming with magic and wonder it tells of the 12 toy soldiers of Bramwell Brontë and some adventures they find themselves in over a hundred years after his death.

[Jean · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved the soldiers. And getting to learn something about the Brontes. Very suspenseful at times.

[Dixie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is such a sweet story, especially for a "brontyfan" (Brontë fan). I loved it as a child and now, fifty years later, it holds up beautifully.

[Sara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent children's book!