Re-reading this with a slightly more critical eye caused me to knock it down a star. Not because of the writing, but because of how the Mounties deal with the indigenous population of Canada. No doubt it's true to its time- but parts are very hard to read with a modern sensibility. There's a passage where a young Indian boy is "kidnapped" from the mission school by his father that is beyond painful to read. There are some other uncomfortable bits around cultural differences as well.

But if one can remember that it was written in the 1930s by a woman born in the 1880s, one can understand and read accordingly. It is, at its heart, a warm and charming story of a little girl who falls head-over-heels in love with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and how they gradually come to return her love. Susannah is 9 years old at the opening of this book, and she's a little hellion- a very realistic, foot-stomping, self-centered little hellion who creates chaos without the slightest bit of malice aforethought.

Her adventures and scrapes are such fun- and her desperate longing to be a Mountie herself is totally understandable. The snapshot of Victorian Canada is a delight, though not an unrelieved delight- see comment re: indigenous peoples, above.

Highly recommended. ( )

Although more commonly known by its later title, Susannah of the Mounties - adopted after the release of the Shirley Temple film that is (very loosely) based upon it - Muriel Denison's story of a little girl who spends a year with the North West Mounted Police of Canada was originally released as Susannah: A Little Girl With the Mounties. Published in 1936, it is a charming little book, both entertaining and heart-warming, but is also sadly dated, when it comes to the depiction of Canada's indigenous peoples. I really struggled, when reading it, to reconcile my appreciation for the winsome character of nine-year-old Susannah Elizabeth Fairfield Winston - or Sue, as she is soon known to all around her - and the amusing scrapes into which she is constantly falling, with my utter distaste at the paternalistic attitude displayed towards First Nations peoples throughout. The former would have won this a four-star rating, and the latter (even tempered with the knowledge that this book is of its time) a two. I compromised on a three.

The premise of Denison's book - a junior officer in the Mounties, Capt. Dennis Lyons, receives word that his young niece Susannah, daughter of his sister (and only sibling), will be coming west from Montreal to stay with him, while her parents are in India - reminded me rather strongly of Robin McKinley's The Blue Sword, right down to Capt. Lyons' asking his commanding officer's advice, as well as the excitement generated in the remote barracks, at the news of a new arrival. I'm sure that the similarities are coincidental (one can imagine many narratives developing this way, in the context of a far-flung empire), but it still tickled my fancy, and predisposed me to like the story. The cast of characters, from worried Uncle Dennis to beautiful Miss Vicky, stern Commissioner Walsh to that friendly new recruit, Monty, are engaging; and the reader enters into Sue's feelings, even while able to see (as she isn't) why her antics lead to trouble. The resolution of many of the plot-lines - Does Sue ever get her red coat? Is outlaw Joe Labiche ever captured? Do Miss Vicky and Monty ever get married? - will come as no surprise to most readers, but will be quite satisfying, all the same.

There are many things to enjoy about this book, from the appealing characters to the engaging narrative - even the illustrations, done by Marguerite Bryan, are charming! Unfortunately, there is also a strong strain of paternalistic racism, in which the childlike Indians - though depicted sympathetically - are in need of the 'civilizing' influence of whites, and the 'protection' of the Mounties. The most egregious example, of course, is the one in which a young Indian boy runs away from boarding school - the 'residential school' system to which native peoples were forced to send their children, or risk police action - and is recaptured by a Mountie, and returned to his captors, all with the cheerful assumption that this is for the best. Knowing, as I do, the egregious abuse that occurred at many of these schools; and deploring, as I do, their aim - to deliberately quash native cultures, languages and practices - I found Denison's blithe ignorance on the matter particularly hard to swallow.**

In sum: Susannah: A Little Girl With the Mounties is a book about which I have very mixed feelings, and while I enjoyed it enough that I will be seeking out the sequels, I think that it is one I would primarily recommend to adult readers who are interested in vintage children's fiction, rather than to today's young readers themselves.

**Readers interested in the subject of Canada's residential school system for its indigenous peoples, and wanting a native perspective, should consult Agnes Grant's Finding My Talk: How Fourteen Native Women Reclaimed their Lives after Residential School, which offers a number of short (and very compelling) autobiographical pieces. ( )