From Publishers Weekly
Born in 1975 in Prague, the daughter of former dissidents of the failed Prague Spring in (then) Czechoslovakia, Dery has penned a memoir collecting tales from her early childhood. She lived in a village outside Prague riddled with Communist informers ever-ready to implicate her father, a sometime taxi driver, and her mother, who ghost-wrote books for the Czech Politburo, in anti-Socialist acts. Dery's maternal grandmother was a powerful member of the Communist elite, her grandfather a famed surgeon; both were very wealthy by Czech standards. After the reform movement was quashed by the Soviets, Dery's mother was banished from the family. Written in an old-fashioned style mimicking the fairy tales Dery loved as a child, this account presents every event—the house flooding while under construction, Dery's rejection by her grandparents when she invites them to her Czech ballet debut, the unpleasant death of the family's St. Bernard—in a vacuum. Dery never veers from the perspective of a very young child, thus providing no context by which to judge the story of growing up in the last years of the Communist state. Still, it's a sometimes charming period piece. Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist
In Ake: The Years of Childhood (1981), Wole Soyinka exposes the hypocrisies of colonialism in an intimate autobiography of his Nigerian youth. Czech poet and playwright Dery takes a similar approach in this spirited memoir of her childhood, beginning in 1975, on the outskirts of Prague. Demonstrating the "nonsense of the system" from a child's view, Dery recounts the cruelties of the Communist regime: her corrupt, wealthy grandparents disown her dissident parents; Dery's father has difficulty finding work; informers are constant. But Dery portrays her exuberant young self and her devoted parents with enormous affection and a contagious, sly humor as she blends political and cultural observations into stories about universal awakenings: at four years old, she's horrified when her parents kill a live carp for Christmas dinner. And as a preteen, she wonders if cleverness and talent matter less than a "nice pair of goats," Czech slang for breasts. The result is a warm, intelligent portrait of childhood and a smart, loving family who challenge a system that threatens "no money, no choice, and no chance." Gillian Engberg
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Library Journal, starred review, September 1, 2004
...touching [memoir]...to a family's will to survive, and even thrive, through the final turbulent years of a terrible regime.

Kirkus Reviews, starred review, August 1, 2004
...a disarmingly sweet and savvy memoir...

Newsday, September 26, 2004
The Twelve Little Cakes is a time capsule, a faithful account of a lost world.

Book Description
Long before she was born, Dominika first appeared to her mother in a dream, so when she came to be, she was welcomed with eager expectation and much love. Though her arrival was auspicious, as the child of recognized dissidents associated with the failed Prague Spring uprising, Dominika's life would be far from charmed. Her mother was disowned by her parents, who were members of the Party elite. Her father was an inventor whose politics resulted in his working as a taxi driver, but who nevertheless remained an unrepentant optimist. Rounding out the family-colorful, even by local standards-were a beautiful, voluptuous teenage sister with many male admirers and an enormous St. Bernard who was a famous Czech TV star.

In a village on the outskirts of Prague, full of gossipy neighbors, state informants, friendly old "grandmothers," and small-town prejudices, Dominika grows up a self-possessed child, whose openness and curiosity often lead her, and her family, into trouble. Yet the love, pride, and quirky ingenuity that bind them together will guarantee their survival-and ultimately their happiness-through the best and worst of times. The Twelve Little Cakes is equal parts testimony to the struggles of a bygone era and a love letter to a joy-filled childhood that no external forces could dim.

About the Author
Dominika Dery was born in Prague in 1975. As a young girl she danced and performed in the National Ballet and National Theater companies. She is the author of four collections of Czech poetry and a play. The Twelve Little Cakes is her first book in English.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

"Long before she was born, Dominika first appeared in a dream to her mother, so when she came to be, she was welcomed with eager expectation and much love. Though her arrival was auspicious, as the child of dissidents associated with the failed Prague Spring uprising, Dominika would live a life that was far from charmed. Her mother was disowned by her parents, who were members of the Party elite. Her father was an economist whose politics resulted in his working as a taxi driver, but who nevertheless remained an unrepetant optimist. Rounding out the family - colorful, even by local standards - were a beautiful, voluptuous teenage sister with many male admirers, and an enormous St. Bernard who in his youth had been a famous Czech TV star." In a village on the outskirts of Prague, full of gossipy neighbors, state informants, friendly old "grandmothers," and small-town prejudices, Dominika grows up a self-possessed child, whose openness and curiosity often lead her, and her family, into trouble. Yet the love, pride, and quirky ingenuity that bind them together will guarantee their survival - and ultimately their happiness - through the best and worst of times. The Twelve Little Cakes is equal parts testimony to the struggles of a bygone era and a love letter to a joy-filled childhood that no external forces could dim.

FROM THE CRITICS

Juliet Wittman - The Washington Post

… this ramble through a childhood that remained full of pleasure and affection despite the efforts of the communist regime is well worth taking.

Publishers Weekly

Born in 1975 in Prague, the daughter of former dissidents of the failed Prague Spring in (then) Czechoslovakia, Dery has penned a memoir collecting tales from her early childhood. She lived in a village outside Prague riddled with Communist informers ever-ready to implicate her father, a sometime taxi driver, and her mother, who ghost-wrote books for the Czech Politburo, in anti-Socialist acts. Dery's maternal grandmother was a powerful member of the Communist elite, her grandfather a famed surgeon; both were very wealthy by Czech standards. After the reform movement was quashed by the Soviets, Dery's mother was banished from the family. Written in an old-fashioned style mimicking the fairy tales Dery loved as a child, this account presents every event-the house flooding while under construction, Dery's rejection by her grandparents when she invites them to her Czech ballet debut, the unpleasant death of the family's St. Bernard-in a vacuum. Dery never veers from the perspective of a very young child, thus providing no context by which to judge the story of growing up in the last years of the Communist state. Still, it's a sometimes charming period piece. Agent, Theresa Park. (Oct. 4) Forecast: With a blurb from Nicholas Sparks, the book may appeal to women readers. Foreign rights have been sold in France, Germany, Italy and Spain. Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

Born to dissidents in 1975, Dominika Dery grows up on the outskirts of Prague in a small village full of prejudices, politics, and petty informing. Largely shunned because of her parents' association with the failed Prague Spring uprising of 1968, Dery seeks solace in her tight-knit family, the friendship of three kind old ladies she dubs her "fairy godmothers," and her love of ballet. Moving from the Brezhnev era of widespread disillusionment and corruption to the relative hope of the Gorbachev years, Dery charts the daily rhythms of life under communism negotiating the black market and weathering the rampant suspicion that atomized most societies behind the Iron Curtain. But this is no cynical memoir it is a touching but clear-eyed testament to a family's will to survive, and even thrive, through the final turbulent years of a terrible regime. Ignore the slightly plodding start and over-the-top Nicholas Sparks quote, and be charmed by Dominika's simple, child's love of life and her stubborn insistence on seeing the good. Highly recommended for larger libraries. [See "Fall Editors' Picks," p. 40-44.] Tania Barnes, Library Journal Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews