"But sometimes, as she's tuckered out on her exquisite linens beneath gorgeous exposed brick and shelves of handcrafted toys, Maisie's world feels easier to admire than it is to worry over."
This observation held absolutely no traction with me--or more to the point, I found it completely irrelevant I found Maisie's situation to be an absolute horror. Having been raised in a less than healthy home myself, I absolutely identified with her situation--and paid not the slightest attention to the state of her linens . . . even though our household barely managed to stay above the poverty level. How in the world could handcrafted toys offer the slightest balm for the daily wounds inflicted upon her by her thoughtlessly cruel and self-centered parents? No, not all the toys and fancy apartments in the world could render a toxic upbringing any less poisonous.