3.5*

An overall good and solid collection, with some very strong stories and some mild ones. Thought it would focus more on haunted dolls, and so, was a bit disappointed. There's some authors I will read more from and will continue reading these collections.

Deadly Dolls by Elizabeth Dearnley is exactly the kind of unsettling deep-dive that scratches a very specific itch I didn’t know I had—part folklore, part cultural analysis, and all wonderfully creepy. I picked it up expecting eerie anecdotes and urban legends, and I got that and so much more.

From the moment I started reading, I was hooked by how Dearnley blends historical context, superstition, and pop culture into this strange, uncanny web of doll lore. It’s not just a book about creepy toys—it’s about what dolls represent: our fears, our need for control, our discomfort with the uncanny. There were moments that genuinely gave me goosebumps, not because of jump scares or gore, but because of the quiet psychological horror beneath the surface.

What I loved most is how the book doesn’t shy away from complexity. It leans into the blurred lines between the innocent and the eerie, the sacred and the profane. Dearnley’s voice is scholarly but totally accessible—it feels like being guided through a haunted museum by someone who knows exactly which exhibits are going to follow you home.

Whether you’re into folklore, horror, or just love dissecting why certain things creep us out, Deadly Dolls is an absolute gem. It’s smart, spooky, and deeply fascinating—definitely one of those reads that lingers long after you’ve finished, especially when you catch sight of an old porcelain doll in a thrift store window.

This is my first time reading a book in this series and unfortunately this collection just wasn't for me.

I found most of the stories pretty dull and poorly paced. Most of the wiring styles weren't for me so at times it felt like a chore to get through them.

I did like how each story was introduced with some background about them and the author.

I imagine there are some people who these stories would really work for especially if you like a slow burn short story but on this occasion these just weren't for me.

‘’Dark forebodings of a cruel, threatening, fate spread themselves over me like dark clouds, which no friendly sunbeam can penetrate. Now will I tell you what has befallen me.’’

The Sandman (E.T.A.Hoffman): A strange tale of a man plagued by his past and his obsession with a creature that cannot be loved.

The Dancing Partner (Jerome K. Jerome): The definition of the term ‘Danse Macabre’ acquires a new meaning in this story of dancing mannequins and damsels trapped in an eternal dance…

Crespian and Clairan (Joan Aiken): One of the eeriest, saddest stories I’ve ever read in which two children compete with each other while a Christmas present is watchful, exacting its revenge. The first pages with mentions of gales, the North Sea and the Viking invasions set the stage for the unfolding drama. Simply brilliant.

‘’Avril was working. Remove. Replace. Sort. Cut. Glue. She was humming to herself. Somewhere, deep inside where the Pain always was, she felt small stirrings of joy, of anticipation, of pleasure, such as she imagined a woman must feel when she was aware, for the first time, of a living child growing within her. Avril worked late. Choose. Change. Mould and twist. Make and yearn. All through the night.’’

The Doll Maker (Adele Geras): In another masterpiece, an elderly lady who has no children of her own, offers her services to the children of her neighbourhood by repairing their dolls. However, strange things begin to take place once the children leave this ‘Dolls’ Hospital’, carrying their repaired treasures in their hands. The dolls just aren’t the same anymore…Uncanny and haunting, an unforgettable story.

Supertoys Last All Summer Long (Brian Aldiss): In the story that inspired Steven Spielberg’s 1999 film A.I., the implications of having robotic children as surrogates for childlessness become a thorny issue.

The Doll (Vernon Lee): A life-looking doll that bears a striking resemblance to a complex noble lady becomes the centre of attention in this tale of passion, set in Umbria. This story was particularly impactful since it reminded me of the haunting dolls and puppets collection in Isola Madre and Isola Bella in Lake Maggiore and my trip there last summer.

‘’Is it possible to love someone so much, that it gives one a pleasure, an unaccountable pleasure to hurt them? To hurt them by jealousy I mean, and to hurt oneself at the same time. Pleasure and pain, an equal mingling of pleasure and pain, just as an experiment, a rare sensation?’’

The Doll (Daphne Du Maurier): Written in her trademark sensual and eerie style, Du Maurier’s story depicts the pain of a young man who has fallen in love with a strange woman. How can you compete against what you cannot understand?

The Devil Doll (Frederick E. Smith): I’ve always thought there is something unnatural, almost diabolic about ventriloquism. This story enforced my belief.

‘’A child kisses its toy before she pretends it sleeps although, even though she is only a child, she knows its eyes are not constructed to close so it will always be a sleeping beauty no kiss will awaken. One in the grip of savage loneliness might kiss the face he sees before him in the mirror for want of any other face to kiss. These are kisses of the same kind; they are the most poignant of kisses, for they are too humble and too despairing to wish or seek for any response.’’

The Lovers of Lady Purple (Angela Carter): Fireworks, the collection in which this story is included, was the first work by Angela Carter I read and it triggered my obsession with her. In this Oriental tale, Lady Purple becomes the symbol for the Virgin and the Prostitute, the figure that beckons from a dark corner during the night of the carnival.

The Dressmaker’s Doll (Agatha Christie): So many wonderful female writers in this collection! A doll that seems to have a mind of her own, spreads uneasiness and fear in an elegant fashion house.

The Patchwork Dolls (Ysabelle Cheung): This one was the only dud of the collection. Definitely creepy but jumping on the bandwagon of the so-called ‘otherness’ is something I do not appreciate.

The Haunted Dolls’ House (M.R.James): One of the most famous ‘Haunted House’ stories in which strange events taking place within a doll house unfold before the eyes of a shocked guest.

‘’I do not like this shop. It is a shop that has died.’’

The Inner Room (Robert Aickman): A young girl chooses a Victorian Gothic dollhouse as her birthday present. From the very first moments, her new acquisition fascinates and unsettles her. Soon, it begins to frighten her. One particular doll seems mad, another is monstrous, a third is on the verge of death. Nightmares begin. Noises and whispers in the darkness of her bedroom. Her brother discovers that there must be a secret room somewhere but it is impossible to discover it. Soon, war comes. The family is torn apart, the shadow of loss and disorientation plagues Lene as the years pass by. One day, she discovers an almost exact replica of her old dollhouse in the middle of a forest. A real, actual house. And she knocks on the door…

This is the best dollhouse mysterious story I’ve ever read. The toy becomes more than a paranormal prop. It becomes a metaphor for loss and uncertainty, for the secrets that cast a long shadow over every family, for the lost opportunities and the merciless time that does not come back.

The Mouse Queen ( Camilla Grudova): A couple of young academics specializing in Latin. The corpse of a female dwarf, pagan gods, Catholicism, Ovid, dolls, English Literature, Greek Mythology, motherhood and, naturally, Tchaikovsky and The Nutcracker in a story that is the definition of perfection.



‘’Amid all the triumphs of our civilization - yes, and amid the crushing problems of overpopulation too - it is sad to reflect how many millions of people suffer from increasing loneliness and isolation.’’

A thrilling, haunting addition to the Tales of the Weird series. Even the first paragraphs of the beautiful Introduction by Elizabeth Dearnley are scary.

Just put those creepy porcelain dolls in the attic…