Though Dery writes of the hardships and injustices imposed by communism, politics is not her focus. More tender than angry, her memoir is a tribute to the pleasures of childhood and family, even under terrible circumstances. Certainly her parents' situation was precarious: Her mother had been disowned by her parents, high-ranking party members; her father, once an engineer, moved furtively from job to job, his political record always a threat to his work prospects.
Most memorable are Dery's observations about the ironies inherent in a communist dictatorship, the unintended elevation of private over public life. Informers lurked everywhere; in public settings, people dutifully chanted party slogans, not daring to express what they really felt. Dery notes the irony of a regime that proclaimed its dedication to unity and brotherhood, and that effectively killed off any spirit of civic-mindedness: "We learned to abandon our nation and concentrate on ourselves. . . . Communism . . . taught the working class to look out for Number One." In these circumstances, home and family became everything -- refuge and salvation.
What is it like to be an eager child in this environment? Dery fondly portrays her love of games, holidays, and fairy tales, her thirst for fresh adventures. The narrative contains many anecdotes in which her youthful innocence and enterprise reap both triumphs and troubles. Cut off from her grandparents, she charms and befriends the old women in her neighborhood. After seeing "Swan Lake" with her parents, she is determined to become a ballerina; despite the favoritism shown to children of the party elite, she manages to take lessons and get accepted into the National Ballet Preparatory School.
