I bet she is (or the books are--she's fictional, I guess). Racism is racism. That doesn't mean that if you like the books, there's something wrong with you. My mother, who has one of the most sophisticated racism-detectors ever given to a human being, loved this one book as a child. It's a French book about this little boy, Macoco ("My coconut"), who lives in Africa. His mother is tall. His father is dark. One day a white man flies down in a wonderful machine and takes Macoco on all sorts of adventures.

Um, yeah... thank god for European colonizers, right? But so she liked the story as a kid. Kids are dumb.