In Honor Of The 150th
Anniversary Of The Publication Of Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women” (1868)-A
Book Review
Book Review
By Alden Riley
Little Women, Louisa May Alcott,
Roberts Brothers, 1868
I thought things were supposed to
change around here with the changing of the guard, otherwise known at least
among the younger writers as the purge and exile of the previous site manager
Allan Jackson and his replacement by Greg Green after a bitter internal fight
with no holds barred and no prisoners taken in the fall of 2017. The idea was
to let the younger writers spread their wings, learn to fly and not do dreary
pieces like the 24/7/365 1960s nostalgia hippie revival regime under
Jackson. And for a while there was a
breath of fresh air around the place, around the formerly hostile water cooler
which drives the social life of many operations and this one is no exception.
Then Greg, I think to show he was his own boss, his own operator came up with
the silly, silly even to Will Bradley who originally presented idea before thinking
better of it, that to appeal to a younger, eventually non-existent audience,
that the publication would feature film reviews of Marvel/DC comic book
characters gone to screen, serious analysis of rap and pop music, and review
graphic novels. Over the top silly stuff
since that phantom audience wouldn’t touch a high-brow publication if they were
paid to do so and even then it would be Seth’s six, two and even that would rouse
them. They get their ideas, information, style elsewhere.
We younger writers in our turn
rebelled at that fantastic imposition and Greg retreated mostly gracefully
under the blowback and let us do our own thing. Then Allan Jackson whom we all
though had perished, gone to pot, dope pot, was working for Mitt Romney out in
Utah Mormon country, running a whorehouse with an old flame in East Bay or
living with an old former hometown corner boy turned “out” drag queen in San
Francisco depending on which rumor you believed at the moment, showed up to do
a series of encore presentations of material he had produced over the years in
order to get back that older audience which had sustained the publication
through good times and bad. Invited by Greg via old geezer Sam Lowell and the Editorial
Board. Something has happened to Greg since Allan’s return, maybe he is under
the Svengali influence of the man but now we are all expected to write “outside
the box” meaning material that we know damn little about and could care even
less about. Hence I have been assigned to do a book review of Louisa May
Alcott’s Little Women in honor of the
150th anniversary of its original publication.
There is where things have gone awry
with Greg’s I am sure Allan-inspired approach. The only thing I knew about Louisa
May Alcott, and this second-hand through Sandy Salmon when he was Senior Film
Editor and I was his associate editor was that her father, Bronson Alcott, was
a wild man, had run amok at Brooks Farm, the holy of holies in the pre-Civil
War Transcendentalist movement, you know Emerson, Thoreau and other Buddha-like
figures who ran around Cambridge, mainly Brattle Street telling naked truths
naked. Bronson has run through whatever dough he had from his inheritance and had
fathered, some say illegimately, a bunch of children by various female denizens
of that isolated farm including Nathaniel Hawthorne’s wife and had had an
affair with Herman Melville’s brother. Such things are hard to pin down but all
I know for sure is that he claimed Louisa May and three other young women as
his children. Lacking DNA testing who knows. So old Bronson was a certified wild
man no doubt but that was hardly enough knowledge to help ‘the hook” of this
famous book which in its time was a best-seller and a standard for young girls
and young women’s bedside reading.
Here is where things get weird though
Sandy who knew Allan Jackson when they both were much younger and had worked the
free-lance stringer racket we all go through before getting our so-called cushy
by-lines at American Film Gazette
asked him what sources I should go to for a look at the lingering influence of
the book on modern girls and young women. Told Sandy to tell me to ask my
sister, Ellen, when she had read the book and what she had thought of it. Here
is the honest truth Ellen had never heard of the book, didn’t know who or what
I was talking about and when I told her the outline of the story she laughed,
smirked and laughed saying “are you kidding” who had time to read such old-time
melodramas. Failing there I figured that I would work my way back so I mentioned
the book I was reviewing to my mother who told me that my grandmother had read
her the book at night before bed but she didn’t remember much except there were
four sisters who grew up and got married or something like that and were good
wives except one who died young of some strange disease. She said ask my
grandmother. Bingo. Grandma quoted me chapter and verse without hesitation
until I asked how the book influenced her. She told me those were different times,
more restrictive times even against her growing up times in the 1930s so she would
have to pass on the influence question. She was only a little shocked that my sister
knew nada about the book and my mother only a little more. So I am going to
take a stab and say as a 150th anniversary honor-women you have come
a long way since those homebody marriage child-rearing times.
I had to think awhile, had to ask
Seth Garth who is good at this kind of question and his old flame Leslie
Dumont, both fellow writers here what was it about the novel that would have
appealed to young girls and women up at least until my grandmother’s growing up
times. And why when I later asked some other female contemporaries they came up
as blank as my sister on even having heard of the book. Leslie said it best, or
at least better. Those were male dominated times and so even the least amount of
spunk, independence by say Jo, who is the
character in the book who pretty much represents Louisa May’s profile was like
a breath of fresh air even to young girls and women who knew the score, knew
they would be driven back into the cave if they got too brave. Seth, who was
more than willing to defer to Leslie’s judgment took a more historical approach
saying there was nothing in the plotline that dealt with eternal truths so that
such a novel would have a limited life-span except in the groves of academia where
a couple of generations of Ph.ds could get worked up about the social meaning
of it all.
That is about it except to briefly trace
the story line, or lines since there are actually two main threads, the almost
universal family-centered expectations for women and Louisa May’s struggle to
get somebody to survive into strong independence co-managership of the family
along with a thoughtful husband. Oldest sister Meg is pretty conventional,
beautiful and domestic preaching to the younger sisters’ choir about the need
to be civilized and good God-fearing wives. Jo, Louisa May’s character is
strong-willed and thoughtful and will make the marriage that Alcott thought
should be appropriate for her times and class. Beth is something of a cipher, musical
but early on sickly who dies young from the after effects of horrible scarlet
fever so no real lesson can be drawn from her life. (Funny how these Victorian
novelists, male and female, have to have some frail sickly female character
hovering in the background.) Amy, the youngest, is the closest to the character
that let’s say my daughter could relate to if she ever finished reading the
book which she adamantly refused to finish after reading about a third of it and
declaring the thing utterly boring even the
Amy character who struggle for artistic self-expression is very similar to her
own feelings about what she wants out of life. As Sam Lowell has stated on many
occasions-a slice of life circa the 1860s-that is the “hook.”
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