and atmospheres. In the music store's dim basement, where her mother works, Julia discovers both comfort and unease as she plays an abandoned pump organ, likened to an ornate wedding cake. The "scutterings" of unseen rats echo in the shadows while she dusts off the keys, forming a symphony of tension. As she presses the chords, a "mournful tune" emerges, haunting like the voice of a deranged Ophelia, for Julia is as adept at playing the organ as she is the piano.

The place dearest to Cameron's heart is Julia's unique refuge—a room that can "glow like the inside of a shell" bathed in the "honey-colored" sunlight of late afternoon filtering through the skylight and windows. Julia reclines on her army cot, gazing upwards through the skylight at "clouds bowling along in stormy seasons, the tops of trees bending, and birds being swept about in the air." By night, she marvels at the "cold, patterned stars" from the warm embrace of her sanctuary.

Cameron further deepens her narrative with symbolism, enriching both themes and characters. Consider Kenny, who is likened to a startled rabbit; Greg describes Kenny's demeanor as "like that rabbit up in the hill that was caught by the legs and then screamed when we all closed in on it." Similarly, Julia's short story, "The Mask," encapsulates her struggle with her father's literary legacy. In a poignant conversation with Mrs. Moore, Julia reflects, "...maybe the mask was not only [her father's] desire to write but his whole difficult complex self that he's handed on to me..."

Though A Room Made of Windows unfolds in the 1920s, it vividly captures a timeless struggle—the clash between generations over the delicate matter of remarriage. Cameron expertly weaves together tales of marital discord, contrasting them with Mrs. Redfern’s poignant efforts to win her daughter’s blessing to wed Phil Stanhope. Julia, the daughter, finds her thoughts tangled with the plight of Mrs. Moore, a neighbor and confidante, who has lived apart from her husband for ages, having chosen the piano keys over matrimonial harmony.

Nearby, the Kellermans’ domestic union crumbles under the weight of Mr. Kellerman’s excessive drinking and his cruel treatment of his family. Meanwhile, tension simmers between Julia's Uncle Hugh and Aunt Alex, a relationship where Alex’s financial power casts a long shadow over Hugh, who toils under her employment. These tales of broken bonds—scarred by neglect, ambition, and folly—push Julia to confront her own reluctance, realizing she cannot let her desires and fear of change stand in the way of her mother's pursuit of happiness.

A Room Made of Windows marks the beginning of an engrossing five-part saga revolving around the spirited Julia Redfern. Her earlier years are vividly depicted in Julia and the Hand of God, That Julia Redfern, and Julia's Magic, whereas The Private Worlds of Julia Redfern offers a glimpse of her life at age fifteen.

In Julia's Magic, we find a youthful Julia, a mere preschooler, whose father is still alive. She is depicted as a bundle of innocence and curiosity, often embroiled in mischief. Her adventurous spirit leads her into a forbidden canyon, resulting in a nasty encounter with poison oak. She also finds herself in hot water after breaking a treasured perfume bottle in her Aunt Alex’s elegant boudoir. Her father, embodying a robust sense of integrity, inspires Julia to confess this unintended act of destruction.

In That Julia Redfern, Julia, albeit slightly older, remains the embodiment of mischief. She daringly confiscates her brother's bicycle, almost colliding with her dignified and generously proportioned Aunt Alex, and overindulges in berries, leading to an upset stomach. The escapades of Julia at the tender age of eleven take center stage in Julia and the Hand of God. Through these youthful chronicles, Julia navigates the complexities of adult relationships, particularly the union between Uncle Hugh and Aunt Alex.

This marriage unravels in The Private Worlds of Julia Redfern when Julia inadvertently learns of Uncle Hugh's past romantic entanglement. As Julia matures, she learns to embrace the complexities of human nature, recognizing that every individual harbors private worlds, much like her own intricate inner realm.

Block, Ann, and Carolyn Riley, eds. Children's Literature Review. Vol. 1. Detroit: Gale, 1976. Discover a curated anthology of review snippets from Cameron's works published prior to 1976, offering a glimpse into the early reception of her literary endeavors.

Cameron, Eleanor. The Green and Burning Tree: On the Writing and Enjoyment of Children's Books. Boston: Little, Brown, 1962. This compilation of articles, first gracing the pages of Horn Book magazine, sees Cameron advocating for rigorous literary benchmarks. She extols the virtues of luminaries like Wanda Gag, Lucy Boston, and Rumer Godden, acknowledging their seminal impact on children's literature. Cameron also delves into a detailed exploration of her own Mushroom Planet series.

Commire, Anne, ed. Something about the Author. Vol. 1. Detroit: Gale, 1971. This volume presents an expansive biographical entry on Cameron, with a spotlight on how her son became the muse for her Mushroom Planet series creation.

Ethridge, James, and Barbara Kipala, eds. Contemporary Authors. Vols. 1-4. Detroit: Gale, 1962. Features a concise biographical sketch focusing on the enchanting tale The Wonderful Flight of the Mushroom Planet.

Weiss, Jaqueline Shachter. Prizewinning Books for Children. Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath, 1983. Offers a succinct thematic mention of the enchanting narratives The Court of the Stone Children and A Room Made of Windows.