The Barbie Chronicles by Yona Zeldis McDonough (Editor) (Touchstone, 1999) paperback original A THOROUGHLY GROWN-UP LOOK AT A TWENTIETH-CENTURY MUSE OF OUTSTANDING PROPORTIONS To some she's a collectible, to others she's trash. In The Barbie Chronicles, twenty-three writers join together to scrutinize Barbie's forty years of hateful, lovely disastrous, glorious influence on us all. No other tiny shoulders have ever, had to carry the weight of such affection and derision and no other book has ever paid this notorious little place of plastic her due. Whether you adore her or abhor her, The Barbie Chronicles will have you looking at her in ways you never imagined. Editorial Reviews From Kirkus Reviews A collection of essays, and some poems, about the posable plastic icon at the 40th anniversary of her creation. Everyone has an opinion about the Barbie doll. Created in 1959 by the founders of Mattel (and named for their daughter Barbara), she was the first American-made doll to represent the world beyond the nursery, and if her proportions are unreal, her influence on millions of little girls, as well as on popular culture, is indisputable. McDonough, whose 1997 essay in the New York Times Magazine was the jumping off point for this book (and who is a former Kirkus contributor), has herein gathered a diverse and mostly talented group of writers to celebrate, denigrate, and otherwise explain what Barbie has come to stand for in American society. Exemplifying as it did the conflicted mores of the late 1950s, with her body that, while obviously sexual, lacks nipples or genitals, the creation of the Barbie doll also coincided with the second wave of feminism and the surge of the civil rights movement. The best essays in this collection discuss Barbie as seen through the lenses of sexuality, gender, and race. In "Barbie Meets Bouguereau,'' Carol Ockman places Barbies body in context of other idealized notions of feminine beauty. In "Black Like Me,'' Ann duCille explores the Mattel companys many attempts to create Barbie dolls of color and realizes that the message of their packaging, meant to convey black pride, "is clearly tied to bountiful hair, lavish and exotic clothes, and other external signs of beauty, wealth, and success.'' Sherrie Inness points out that Barbie alone, in contrast to other dolls on the market, represents independent single women and their diverse career options. Good, bad, or indifferent, there's obviously still fun to be had in playing with Barbie dolls. (8 pages b&w photos, not seen) The Barbie Chronicles From: People Magazine, Novermber 22, 1999 Though she's only 11 1/2 inches tall and can fit into clothes even smaller than Elizabeth Hurley's, Barbie, who turned 40 this year, is the subject of some big thoughts in this colorful essay collection. Historian Stephanie Coontz provides a comprehensive history of the Mattel doll, noting that the 1959 creation (which Sears decreed too sensual for its shelves) was initially a tough sell. Young girls liked the idea of owning an adult doll, but moms worried that Barbie and all her curves were a bit too mature for child's play. Mattel settled on a marketing plan to appease: Barbie was so well-dressed that she could help mothers instill the importance of "proper appearance" in their daughters. Columnist Anna Quindlen never fell for that scheme. She writes that she would sooner "drive a silver stake through Barbie's plastic heart" than agree with her daughter that the doll is "just a toy." Quindlen sees a correlation between Barbie's "preposterous physique" (40-18-32) in human scale) and negative body image among teenagers. While both the positive and negative theories get a workout here, there are also some poignant childhood memories to keep things amusing. Journalist M.G. Lord enjoyed forcing Barbie's clothes on poor Ken, for instance, and novelist Pamela Brandt recalls envying Barbie's perfectly shaped (though nippleless) breasts. "Barbie has become an icon and a fetish," writes editor McDonough.... "To some angelic, to others, depraved." Chronicles will likely persuade you she's both. Bottom line: Sharp examination of a toy-box icon