I found my first Pippi Longstocking book at a library book sale when I was nine. It was a 1960s edition with that particular smell — the smell of paper that has been held by many hands, of basement storage and fading ink and someone else’s childhood pressed between the covers. The cover showed a freckled girl with bright red braids sticking straight out, holding a horse above her head like it weighed nothing. I sat on the floor of that church basement, cross-legged, and read the first chapter while my mom finished her shift at the hospital. I didn’t know, sitting there, that I was about to meet the first female protagonist who made me feel like being a girl was not a limitation but a kind of superpower.
I grew up in East Los Angeles, in a small apartment where the bookshelf was also the TV stand and also the place we kept the good dishes we never used. My mom worked night shifts in the neonatal ICU, which meant I spent a lot of afternoons alone. The apartment would get quiet around four, when the light through the west window went gold and slanted, and I would pull a book from that sagging shelf and disappear. The books I reached for most were the ones with girls on the covers — girls who looked like they were mid-adventure, girls who had better things to do than wait for someone else to tell them what to do. Girls with braids and scuffed knees and determined expressions. Girls like me, except they got to live in worlds where something actually happened.
I didn’t know then what I was learning. I thought I was just passing time until my mom got home. But those books — the ones from the 1950s and 60s with their gorgeous illustrated covers, their ink-spotted interior drawings, their heroines who climbed trees and solved mysteries and refused to be polite — were teaching me something I would spend my twenties trying to articulate. They were teaching me that a girl could be the center of her own story. That the artwork mattered because someone took the time to show you what the world looked like. That a good series was a door you could walk through again and again, and every time you came back, the furniture was exactly where you left it.
Quick Pick: If You Only Have Time for One Series
If you can only pick one book series from this era, make it “The Chronicles of Narnia” by C.S. Lewis, with the original Pauline Baynes illustrations. There is a reason these books have never gone out of print. Lucy Pevensie walks through a wardrobe and into a world that has been waiting for her — and the illustrations by Baynes, those delicate ink drawings that look like they were done with a pen that had been passed down through generations, make Narnia feel real in a way that no movie adaptation has ever quite captured. The series has female protagonists who are brave, curious, and allowed to be wrong, and the artwork alone is worth the price of admission.
The 10 Best Book Series From the 1950s-60s With Female Protagonists and Beautiful Artwork
1. THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA BY C.S. LEWIS
C.S. Lewis | ⭐ 4.7/5
Who it’s for: Readers of any age who want to escape into a fully realized fantasy world with moral depth, memorable characters, and illustrations that feel like they were drawn from memory rather than imagination.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Chronicles-Narnia-C-S-Lewis/dp/0064404994?tag=readplug09-20
“Lucy was the first to find the wardrobe.”
The Chronicles of Narnia, published between 1950 and 1956, remain the gold standard for children’s fantasy series with female leads. Lucy Pevensie is the heart of the series — the youngest, the most trusting, the one who believes in things before she has evidence. But Susan gets her moment too, and so do aravis and Jill Pole in later books. What makes Narnia special for this list is the Pauline Baynes illustrations. Baynes drew Narnia in a style that feels medieval and intimate at the same time — fine black ink lines, carefully cross-hatched shadows, figures in flowing cloaks standing at the edge of impossibly detailed forests. Her drawings of Mr. Tumnus carrying parcels through a snowy wood, or of Lucy staring into the wardrobe with the light coming through the fur coats, are inseparable from the experience of reading these books.
My take: I have read “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” more times than any other book in my life, and every time I find something new in Baynes’s illustrations that I missed before. This is the series that taught me fantasy could feel like coming home.
2. PIPPI LONGSTOCKING BY ASTRID LINDGREN
Astrid Lindgren | ⭐ 4.5/5
Who it’s for: Anyone who was ever told they were too much — too loud, too strange, too independent — and needed to see a girl who treated those qualities as strengths.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Pippi-Longstocking-Astrid-Lindgren/dp/0142402492?tag=readplug09-20
“I have never tried that before, so I think I should definitely have a go.”
Pippi Longstocking arrived in the United States in the 1950s, and she was unlike anything American children’s literature had seen. She was nine years old, lived alone with a horse and a monkey, had superhuman strength, and answered to no one. The original Swedish editions were illustrated by Ingrid Vang Nyman, whose bold, colorful artwork — Pippi with her carrot-red braids sticking straight out, her mismatched stockings, her enormous shoes — became the visual definition of the character. Nyman’s illustrations are bright, slightly chaotic, and full of movement. Pippi is always in motion in them — lifting a horse, cooking pancakes on the floor, laughing at adults who take themselves too seriously. The artwork is as unconventional as the character, and that is exactly the point.
My take: Pippi was the first female character I encountered who was not trying to be likable. She was not trying to be anything except entirely herself. That might be the most radical thing a book series from the 1950s could offer a young reader, and it still hits the same way today.
3. THE BORROWERS BY MARY NORTON
Mary Norton | ⭐ 4.4/5
Who it’s for: Readers who love tiny details, miniature worlds, and stories about resourceful characters making a life in impossible circumstances. Also for anyone who has ever looked at a dollhouse and felt a pang of longing.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/The-Borrowers-Mary-Norton/dp/0152047376?tag=readplug09-20
“She was small, and she was brave, and she had a name: Arrietty.”
The Borrowers, published in 1952, imagines a family of tiny people who live beneath the floorboards and survive by “borrowing” everyday objects from the human family above — a matchbox becomes a dresser, a postage stamp becomes a painting. The protagonist, Arrietty Clock, is a teenage Borrower who longs to see the world beyond her floorboard home. The original editions were illustrated by various artists, but the most beloved versions feature delicate line drawings that give you a sense of scale — a sewing pin as big as a spear, a spool of thread as tall as a table. Beth and Joe Krush’s illustrations for the 1953 American edition are particularly lovely, capturing both the danger and the magic of being very small in a very large world.
My take: What stayed with me about the Borrowers is not just the inventive premise but the way Arrietty carries her curiosity like a lantern. She wants to see what is out there, even when seeing is dangerous. That felt true to me at nine, and it feels true to me now.
4. THE LITTLE HOUSE BOOKS BY LAURA INGALLS WILDER
Laura Ingalls Wilder | ⭐ 4.6/5
Who it’s for: Readers who love immersive historical fiction, detailed descriptions of everyday life, and stories about resilience and family. The Garth Williams illustrations alone are worth the journey.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Little-House-Prairie-Laura-Ingalls/dp/0064400026?tag=readplug09-20
“There is no good in my going to school now, Pa. I know too much.”
The Little House books were published between 1932 and 1943, but their massive resurgence in popularity during the 1950s and 1960s — in paperback editions with the iconic Garth Williams illustrations — cemented them as one of the defining book series of the mid-century. Laura Ingalls is a female protagonist who grows up across the series from a wild child on the prairie to a young woman with her own family. The Garth Williams illustrations are some of the most beloved in American children’s literature — his line drawings of Laura running through tall grass, of the Ingalls family gathered around a fire, of the covered wagon crossing the endless prairie are warm, detailed, and deeply humane. Williams drew the illustrations at Wilder’s request, and he spent months traveling the routes she describes to get the landscapes right.
My take: I came to these books late — in my twenties, actually, during a period when I needed to believe that resilience was something you could learn. Laura’s willingness to find beauty in hardship changed something in me. And the illustrations — I must have spent an hour just looking at the drawing of the family eating Christmas dinner in their tiny cabin.
5. A WRINKLE IN TIME BY MADELEINE L’ENGLE
Madeleine L’Engle | ⭐ 4.5/5
Who it’s for: Young readers (and adult readers) who feel like they don’t fit in and need to see a story where being different is exactly what saves the day. Also for anyone who loves science fiction with real emotional depth.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Wrinkle-Time-Madeleine-LEngle/dp/0312367546?tag=readplug09-20
“We can’t take any credit for our talents. It’s how we use them that counts.”
A Wrinkle in Time won the Newbery Medal in 1963 and introduced readers to Meg Murry, a protagonist who was awkward, angry, academically struggling, and deeply loyal. Meg was not pretty, not popular, not particularly good at fitting in — and she was exactly the heroine that readers who felt the same way needed. The original hardcover dust jacket was designed by Ellen Raskin, who would later win the Newbery Medal herself for “The Westing Game.” Raskin’s cover art for A Wrinkle in Time — a surreal, almost abstract depiction of Meg, Charles Wallace, and Calvin tumbling through space — was unlike anything in children’s book design at the time. Interior illustrations vary by edition, but the 1962 original includes Raskin’s chapter-opening drawings that capture the otherworldly strangeness of the story.
My take: Meg Murry has entered the canon as one of the great female protagonists in children’s literature, and rightly so. But I also love this book for what it taught me about anger — that being angry about injustice is not the same as being a difficult person. Meg saves the world because she loves fiercely and refuses to give up. That is a lesson I still need to be reminded of.
6. HARRIET THE SPY BY LOUISE FITZHUGH
Louise Fitzhugh | ⭐ 4.3/5
Who it’s for: Aspiring writers, observers of human behavior, and anyone who ever kept a notebook full of things they were not supposed to notice.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Harriet-Spy-Louise-Fitzhugh/dp/0440416799?tag=readplug09-20
“Sometimes you have to lie. But to yourself you must always tell the truth.”
Harriet M. Welsch is an 11-year-old aspiring writer who spies on her neighbors and classmates and writes down everything she observes — the kind, the cruel, the embarrassing, the true. When her notebook falls into the wrong hands, Harriet has to reckon with the consequences of her honesty. Louise Fitzhugh illustrated the book herself, and her drawings of Harriet — in her signature blue jeans and sweatshirt, notebook always in hand, expression permanently skeptical — are as memorable as the character. Fitzhugh’s art style is loose, expressive, and wonderfully unpolished. Harriet never looks cute in the illustrations. She looks like a real kid: messy, intense, mid-thought. The 1964 original edition was a landmark not just for its content but for its visual identity — Harriet looked like no other girl in children’s books at the time. The sequel, “The Long Secret,” was published in 1965 and continued Harriet’s story.
My take: I have never read a book that captures the specific loneliness and power of being a child who pays attention more than “Harriet the Spy.” Fitzhugh’s illustrations are inseparable from the story — I cannot imagine Harriet without the sharp angles and skeptical eyebrows of the original drawings. This is a book series that made me want to write.
7. THE WOLVES OF WILLOUGHBY CHASE BY JOAN AIKEN
Joan Aiken | ⭐ 4.2/5
Who it’s for: Readers who love gothic atmosphere, plucky heroines, and alternative history adventures with a literary twist.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Wolves-Willoughby-Chase-Joan-Aiken/dp/0140302569?tag=readplug09-20
“It was dark and cold, and the wolves were howling in the forest.”
Set in an alternate 19th-century England where wolves roam the countryside and the young king is in peril, “The Wolves of Willoughby Chase” follows cousins Bonnie and Sylvia as they survive a terrifying governess and a series of increasingly dangerous adventures. Bonnie is bold and brash; Sylvia is gentle and kind. Together, they are one of literature’s great female duos. The original 1962 edition featured illustrations by Pat Marriott, whose atmospheric line drawings capture the gothic chill of Aiken’s world — wolves with glowing eyes in snowy forests, grand but crumbling manor houses, girls in old-fashioned dresses running through dark corridors. The series continued with several sequels, including “Black Hearts in Battersea” and “The Cuckoo Tree,” all featuring resourceful young women navigating a dangerous, delightfully weird version of English history.
My take: I found this series in a used bookstore in Silver Lake, on a day when I was avoiding something I did not want to deal with, and I read the first chapter standing against the shelf. The atmosphere is unmatched — Aiken writes winters you can feel in your bones, and Marriott’s illustrations make the cold visible.
8. THE RAMONA SERIES BY BEVERLY CLEARY
Beverly Cleary | ⭐ 4.5/5
Who it’s for: Anyone who has ever been a younger sibling, been misunderstood by adults, or found themselves in trouble without entirely understanding how they got there.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Ramona-Quimby-Age-8-Beverly-Cleary/dp/0380709565?tag=readplug09-20
“She would not be a nuisance. She would be a help.”
Beverly Cleary published “Beezus and Ramona” in 1955, and with that single book she created one of the most enduring female protagonists in children’s literature. Ramona Quimby is not trying to be difficult — she just sees the world differently from the adults around her, and that difference keeps landing her in trouble. The original illustrations by Louis Darling and later by Tracy Dockray and Alan Tiegreen are warm, funny, and full of the particular energy of a child who is always about to do something she should not. Ramona is drawn with a round face, an expressive mouth, and hair that always looks slightly messy, as if she just got done running. The illustrations of Ramona dramatically singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” in first grade, or of her desperately trying to be good and failing, have become the visual language of childhood.
My take: I read all the Ramona books in one summer when I was ten, sprawled on the floor of my apartment with the fan on and the noise of the neighborhood coming through the window. Ramona was the first character who made me feel like being messy and loud and full of feelings was not something to apologize for. Tracy Dockray’s later illustrations capture that perfectly.
9. MARY POPPINS BY P.L. TRAVERS
P.L. Travers | ⭐ 4.3/5
Who it’s for: Readers who love whimsical, slightly strange children’s fantasy with a distinctly literary sensibility, and who appreciate the original illustrations that inspired the Disney icon.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Poppins-P-L-Travers/dp/0544431743?tag=readplug09-20
“Well, when you have to go, you have to go.”
Mary Poppins is technically not the protagonist — the Banks children are — but she looms over every page like a force of nature. P.L. Travers published the first book in 1934, but the Mary Poppins phenomenon exploded in the 1960s after the Disney film, and the series reads as quintessentially mid-century. Mary Shepard’s original illustrations are essential to the experience of the books. Her Mary Poppins is not the Julie Andrews version — she is sharp-nosed, stern, older, and not particularly warm. Shepard’s ink drawings show Mary Poppins with her umbrella held like a weapon, her hat pinned firmly in place, her expression suggesting that she knows more than she is telling and does not plan to tell you anything. The books’ illustrations of the magical moments — Mary Poppins sliding up the banister, the tea party on the ceiling, the visit to the zoo where the humans are in cages — have a dreamlike quality that the movie never quite captured.
My take: The Mary Poppins of the books is a much stranger, more interesting character than the movie version, and Mary Shepard’s illustrations make that strangeness visible. The books are about the tension between order and magic, and Shepard’s line drawings capture both — the tidy house, the proper hat, and the absolute impossibility of the things happening around them.
10. TRIXIE BELDEN BY JULIE CAMPBELL
Julie Campbell | ⭐ 4.1/5
Who it’s for: Readers who grew up on Nancy Drew but wanted a heroine who was a little more outdoorsy, a little less perfect, and a lot more likely to fall out of a tree than to look elegant while solving a mystery.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Trixie-Belden-Mystery-Collection-Volumes/dp/0375821000?tag=readplug09-20
“I’m not going to be stupid about it. I’m going to be a detective.”
Trixie Belden is the secret weapon of 1950s girl detective series. She is not as famous as Nancy Drew, but she is beloved by the readers who found her. Thirteen-year-old Trixie is impulsive, nosy, and not particularly good at school — but she is brilliant at noticing things that other people miss. The original series, starting in 1948 and peaking in the 1950s and 1960s, featured illustrated covers and occasional interior drawings that showed Trixie with short blonde hair, jeans, and a perpetually curious expression. The covers were particularly wonderful — Trixie and her friends the Bob-Whites of the Glen peering around corners, examining clues, getting into and out of trouble. Unlike Nancy Drew, who always seemed to have everything under control, Trixie made mistakes and learned from them, which made her far more relatable.
My take: Trixie Belden is the series I recommend to anyone who says they loved Nancy Drew but found her a little too perfect. Trixie gets things wrong. She jumps to conclusions. She has to apologize. And she is a better detective for it. The vintage cover art, with its saturated colors and mid-century design, is the icing on the cake.
11. THE EGYPT GAME BY ZILPHA KEATLEY SNYDER
Zilpha Keatley Snyder | ⭐ 4.2/5
Who it’s for: Readers who love stories about friendship, imaginative play, and the secret worlds that children create when adults are not looking.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Egypt-Game-Zilpha-Keatley-Snyder/dp/1416949189?tag=readplug09-20
“The Egypt Game was a secret, and it was powerful.”
Published in 1967, “The Egypt Game” is about a group of children in a small California town who create an elaborate imaginative game based on ancient Egypt in a vacant lot behind an antique shop. The protagonist, April Hall, is a sixth-grader from Hollywood who has been sent to live with her grandmother — she is dramatic, theatrical, and a little lonely behind the performance. Alton Raible’s original illustrations for the book capture the atmosphere perfectly: the children in makeshift Egyptian costumes, the crumbling storage yard transformed into a temple, the mysterious Professor who watches from his window. The illustrations have a slightly spooky, dreamlike quality that matches the book’s tone — this is not a cheerful story about make-believe; it is a story about the seriousness of children’s inner lives.
My take: I read “The Egypt Game” for the first time at 27, not 9, and I was astonished by how seriously it takes its young characters. Snyder understands that children’s imaginative worlds are not cute — they are urgent. The sequels continue April’s story, and the illustrations remain one of the best examples of 1960s children’s book art.
12. TOM’S MIDNIGHT GARDEN BY PHILIPPA PEARCE
Philippa Pearce | ⭐ 4.4/5
Who it’s for: Readers who appreciate quiet, emotionally complex stories about time, memory, and the ache of growing up. The illustrations are subtle and haunting.
Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Toms-Midnight-Garden-Philippa-Pearce/dp/0064404803?tag=readplug09-20
“Time is the great healer, but it is also the great destroyer.”
Published in 1958, “Tom’s Midnight Garden” is perhaps the most quietly devastating book on this list. Tom, a boy sent to stay with his aunt and uncle, discovers that when the grandfather clock in the hall strikes thirteen, he can enter a magical garden that exists in another century — a garden where he meets Hatty, a girl who is both his playmate and, as he slowly realizes, someone living in a different time. The female protagonist here is Hatty, and her story — of loneliness, growth, and the passage of time — is the emotional center of the book. Susan Einzig’s original illustrations capture the story’s peculiar magic: the garden at midnight, the winter snow, Hatty’s figure glimpsed through the trees. The illustrations are spare and delicate, like pencil drawings on the edge of disappearing.
My take: This book broke my heart in the way that only the best children’s literature can. Hatty’s story — and the way Tom learns its truth — is a masterclass in storytelling. Einzig’s illustrations never show too much, which is exactly right for a story about what is glimpsed rather than grasped.
FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS
WHY DO THE BOOKS FROM THIS ERA HAVE SUCH BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK?
The mid-20th century was a golden age for children’s book illustration. Publishing houses invested heavily in original artwork, and many of the era’s most talented artists — Pauline Baynes, Garth Williams, E.H. Shepard’s daughter Mary, and many others — worked on children’s series. The technology of printing also played a role: the 1950s and 1960s saw advances in offset lithography that made it possible to reproduce detailed line drawings and full-color illustrations more affordably than ever before. Publishers treated the artwork as an integral part of the reading experience, not as decoration. The result was a generation of books where the illustrations and the text exist in conversation, each enhancing the other.
ARE THERE ANY BOOK SERIES FROM THIS ERA WITH FEMALE PROTAGONISTS THAT ALSO HAVE MODERN EDITIONS WITH THE ORIGINAL ARTWORK?
Yes, and this is something I feel strongly about. Many publishers have recognized the value of the original illustrations and have kept them in print. The HarperCollins editions of the Little House books still feature Garth Williams’s original drawings. The full-color Pauline Baynes illustrations are available in certain editions of Narnia. The original Pippi Longstocking translations from Viking include Ingrid Vang Nyman’s artwork. Always check the edition details before buying — look for phrases like “original illustrations” or “complete text with original art.” Some modern editions unfortunately replace the classic artwork with cheaper, mass-produced covers, and you want to avoid those if the illustrations matter to you.
I’M AN ADULT — WILL THESE BOOKS STILL RESONATE WITH ME?
That is the beautiful thing about well-written children’s literature: it does not expire. Many of the books on this list are what scholars call “crossover classics” — they were written for children but contain themes, emotional complexity, and literary sophistication that adults can appreciate on an entirely different level. I re-read “Tom’s Midnight Garden” at 25 and wept at things I had not understood at 12. I re-read “A Wrinkle in Time” every few years and find a different Meg Murry each time — the one who is angry, the one who loves, the one who refuses to give up. The best children’s books grow with you. They are not the same book at 30 that they were at 10, and that is the point.
ARE THERE MODERN BOOK SERIES WITH SIMILAR VIBES AND GORGEOUS ILLUSTRATIONS?
Absolutely. If you love the illustrated series of the 1950s and 60s, you should look at the work of contemporary illustrators like Chris Riddell (who illustrated the Neil Gaiman children’s books and the “Edge Chronicles”), Carson Ellis (who illustrated “The Wildwood Chronicles” and “The Mysterious Benedict Society”), and Levi Pinfold (who illustrated the “Harry Potter” illustrated editions). The “Nevermoor” series by Jessica Townsend has beautiful illustrated editions. The “Greenwild” series by Pari Thomson features stunning botanical-inspired artwork. The spirit of the mid-century illustrated novel is alive and well — it just looks a little different now.
CAN READING THESE VINTAGE SERIES HELP ME APPRECIATE ILLUSTRATION AS AN ART FORM?
Yes, and this is one of the great unexpected gifts of reading these books as an adult. When I re-read the Narnia books now, I spend as much time looking at the illustrations as I do reading the text. I notice the cross-hatching in Baynes’s drawings, the way she uses negative space, how she draws trees. I look at Garth Williams’s prairie landscapes and see the research he did to get the grasses right. The 1950s and 60s were a period when children’s book illustration was taken seriously as art, and treating it as such as an adult reader adds an entire dimension to the experience. If you want to go deeper, books like “The History of Children’s Book Illustration” by John Selborne provide excellent context.
WHY DO SO MANY OF THESE SERIES FEATURE FEMALE PROTAGONISTS WHO ARE “TOMBOYS”?
It is a fascinating pattern. Harriet the Spy, Pippi Longstocking, Ramona Quimby, Trixie Belden — so many of the era’s female protagonists refuse traditional femininity in favor of what was then called “tomboy” behavior. Partly this was a reflection of the cultural moment: the post-war period saw increased questioning of rigid gender roles, and children’s literature was one place where that questioning played out. Partly it was a commercial decision — publishers believed that tomboy characters appealed to both boys and girls, broadening the audience. And partly, I think, it was a genuine expression of what authors observed in the children around them. These characters were not written as “like a boy” — they were written as girls who refused to be constrained. That distinction matters.
WHAT IF I WANT TO COLLECT THE ORIGINAL EDITIONS WITH THE VINTAGE ARTWORK?
Collecting original mid-century editions of these series has become a popular hobby, and I have definitely gone down that rabbit hole myself. The best places to look are used bookstores, estate sales, library book sales, and online marketplaces like AbeBooks or Biblio. Look for early printings — first editions of A Wrinkle in Time with the Ellen Raskin dust jacket can be valuable, but later printings from the 1960s and 1970s are much more affordable and often still have the original interior illustrations. Be aware that condition matters significantly for value, but if you are collecting for reading pleasure rather than investment, a well-loved copy with the original artwork is worth far more than a pristine modern reprint.
THE BOTTOM LINE
There is something irreplaceable about the book series of the 1950s and 60s. They were created at a moment when publishers believed that children deserved beautiful things — not just good stories, but books that were physically lovely to hold, with artwork that someone had spent weeks or months getting right. The female protagonists of these series — Lucy Pevensie, Pippi Longstocking, Arrietty Clock, Meg Murry, Harriet M. Welsch, Ramona Quimby — were not waiting for permission. They were not waiting to be saved. They were already the heroes of their own lives, and the artwork that accompanied their stories made that visible in every line and color.
If I had to pick three to start with: begin with “The Chronicles of Narnia” for the full experience of Pauline Baynes’s landscapes. Then read “Harriet the Spy” for Louise Fitzhugh’s raw, expressive drawings of a girl who refuses to stop paying attention. End with “Pippi Longstocking” — the Ingrid Vang Nyman edition — and remember what it felt like to believe that being yourself was enough.
Which series are you grabbing first?
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