The Doll's House

Adult social divisions inform and inflect the world of children, who often accept them without question and rarely struggle to understand ingrained differences.

The Burnells’ rural school features students from far more socioeconomic demographics than their parents would like, with the narrative noting that “all the children of the neighbourhood, the Judge's little girls, the doctor's daughters, the store-keeper's children, the milkman's, were forced to mix together. Not to speak of there being an equal number of rude, rough little boys as well” (5). This description includes most of the class spectrum, including the upper classes, professional classes, business owners, and the working class, making the school a microcosm of New Zealand’s class-stratified society. The Burnell girls are at the top of this social hierarchy: “They walked past the Kelveys with their heads in the air, and as they set the fashion in all matters of behaviour, the Kelveys were shunned by everybody” (5). Mrs. Burnell encourages her daughters to believe that their social superiority is well-deserved and should go unquestioned. Isabel and Lottie blindly accept her commands, and only Kezia seems to have any ability to think for herself and make her own judgments about how her less-fortunate classmates should be treated.

Class differences are underscored through descriptions of nature that the Burnells and the Kelveys are allowed to engage in, and the “worth” of children is reinforced through flowers. While Lil attempts to win her teacher’s favor by presenting her with “a bunch of dreadfully common-looking flowers” (5), the Burnell sisters transcend all hierarchies of space and can access the prettiest places: “Isabel was bossy, but she was always right, and Lottie and Kezia knew too well the powers that went with being eldest. They brushed through the thick buttercups at the road edge and said nothing” (3). The Burnells think nothing of walking through thick buttercups; they believe the world belongs to them.

The world of adult social divisions strictly controls the hierarchy of space; the wealthier simply have access to more spaces. Children are taught this rather than being born with this knowledge, and their sense of wonder is curtailed by social conventions. When the doll’s house is first opened, the girls are awed by the intimacy between themselves and their new toy: “Pat prized it open with his penknife, and the whole house front swung back, and—there you were, gazing at one and the same moment into the drawing-room and dining-room, the kitchen and two bedrooms. That is the way for a house to open!” (2). Children crave access and yet are taught that their inferior status does not guarantee them the right to go wherever they please.

During this scene of opening the doll’s house, Mansfield’s free indirect discourse allows the reader a curious moment of metaphysical contemplation: “Why don't all houses open like that? How much more exciting than peering through the slit of a door […] Perhaps it is the way God opens houses at the dead of night when He is taking a quiet turn with an angel” (2). Adults blandly accept the restrictions around them, but children dare to dream of a more interesting world. In Mansfield’s narration, this desire to see and know all ascribes them a new kind of agency that aligns them with God rather than their boring parents.

The children of this small, unnamed rural village are perpetually separated by social divisions dictated by their parents, but Mansfield suggests that children’s inherent curiosity and pursuit of beauty have the potential to unite them and override all preordained divisions. The last scene in which Kezia’s kindness toward the Kelveys is thwarted indicates that there is potential for friendship between any two children until adults ruin it.