Review: ‘The Dollmaker’ by Nina Allan


Dolls have a very special place in popular culture. On the one hand they’re a symbol of childhood and innocence, on the other hand they’re a staple of the horror genre. Something about them unnerves many people and I find that contrast fascinating. Personally I was never that into dolls, partly because my parents never caved to my complaints that everybody else had them. I left them behind pretty quickly, yet I love the darkness that infuses them in horror movies. It’s the idea of corrupted innocence, I guess, that clings to them. In The Dollmaker Nina Allan puts dolls and those who collect them in the spotlight, while twisting readers expectations. Thanks to Quercus Books, riverrun and Netgalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Pub. Date: 4/4/2019
Publisher: Quercus Books, riverrun
INFORMATION WANTED ON THE LIFE AND WORK OF DOLLMAKER EWA CHAPLIN AND/OR FRIENDSHIP, CORRESPONDENCE. PLEASE REPLY TO: BRAMBER WINTERS. 
Stitch by perfect stitch, Andrew Garvie makes exquisite dolls in the finest antique style. Like him, they are diminutive, but graceful, unique and with surprising depths. Perhaps that's why he answers the enigmatic personal ad in his collector's magazine.Letter by letter, Bramber Winters reveals more of her strange, sheltered life in an institution on Bodmin Moor, and the terrible events that put her there as a child. Andrew knows what it is to be trapped; and as they knit closer together, he weaves a curious plan to rescue her. 
On his journey through the old towns of England he reads the fairytales of Ewa Chaplin - potent, eldritch stories which, like her lifelike dolls, pluck at the edges of reality and thread their way into his mind. When Andrew and Bramber meet at last, they will have a choice - to remain alone with their painful pasts or break free and, unlike their dolls, come to life. 
A love story of two very real, unusual people, The Dollmaker is also a novel rich with wonders: Andrew's quest and Bramber's letters unspool around the dark fables that give our familiar world an uncanny edge. It is this touch of magic that, like the blink of a doll's eyes, tricks our own . . .

 Dolls are not my favourite thing, and yet I've previously found myself fascinated by them in fiction. A story that springs to mind immediately is 'The Doll' by Daphne DuMaurier, in which a young man falls ardently in love with a woman who is enraptured in turn by a doll. The doll, in many ways, becomes a major character in the story, without being truly alive. Similarly in The Dollmaker, dolls are central to the lives of its main characters. They are lifeless representations of how we see ourselves. Or perhaps they hold a piece of us as well. Many of us have a childhood doll or stuffed animal hidden away somewhere, not needing it present in our bedrooms and yet not capable of getting rid of it. In The Dollmaker dolls are both a narrative device as well as the cog upon which the whole novel turns. They bring a Gothic atmosphere to the novel, unsettling the reader every so slightly and thereby opening them up to the questions Allan's novel asks. 
The Dollmaker revolves around Andrew Garvie, diminutive himself, crafts dolls with utter care, making them as lifelike as possible. And yet, he is unable to truly infuse them with life. Responding to a posting in a monthly doll collector's magazine, he begins to communicate with Bramber Winters, a woman living in a rather mysterious institute. He decides to surprise her with a visit, hoping that it will spark something more than just a friendship, and the novel follows his slow journey to her. In some  ways The Dollmaker is a coming-of-age novel for Andrew, forcing him to finally face his fears of rejection and his own traumas. It is also a contemplative novel, questioning what it means to be alive and how we see ourselves. How does what happened to us affect us now? Can we leave the safety we have found, even if that safety in and of itself poses a threat? Allan doesn't claim to have all the answers, and at times I found myself frustrated by a lack of clarity. Once I finished the novel I still felt like I didn't really know Bramber as an independent character. We see her solely through Andrew's lens, who has idealized her in the same way he has his dolls. 

Nina Allan has crafted a very intricate and complicated novel. On the one hand we have Andrew's travel narrative. On the other hand we have Bramber's letters, slowly unraveling the mystery of her life. And then, on a surprising third hand, we have the short stories of Ewa Chaplin, a dollmaker and short story writer that Bramber is obsessed with. Chaplin's stories are mysterious and fantastical, with odd links to Andrew and Bramber's lives. I have to admit that "Ewa Chaplin"'s stories were my favourite part of The Dollmaker. They're atmospheric, dark and full of stunning imagery. I was enraptured by them, which had the consequence that I found myself racing through the rest of the plot just to get to the next story. I wish the same tension and magic had been present in the novel's other story lines, but there was only a faint trace of it here and there. Overall I did enjoy The Dollmaker, even if not all parts of the novel captured me equally.

I give this novel...

3 Universes. 

The Dollmaker is an atmospheric novel which questions how we see ourselves and what we are willing to do to free ourselves. Although not consistently successful, Allan creates some stunning imagery in her novel and crafts a stunning structure. I recommend this novel to those looking for a challenge and interested in the Gothic.

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