stoutfellow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stoutfellow) wrote2005-07-09 04:10 pm
stoutfellow) wrote2005-07-09 04:10 pm
"Little Women"
Before today, I'd never read Little Women. I have no particular aversion to "classics", nor does the verbosity of most nineteenth-century English literature bother me; I'd just never gotten around to this one.
It's a comfortable read, a thoroughly domestic coming-of-age story. The three older girls - Meg, Jo, and Amy - are reasonably well-drawn, each with her own distinctive personality, and the problems each faces while growing up are consistent with their already-drawn characters. Unfortunately, most of the other characters (Laurie is an exception) are rather cardboard. Beth is a little angel; her main flaw is an excessive timidity, which is resolved for the most part through the friendliness of Mr. Laurence. After that, her only function is to serve as a focus for sympathy, as she slowly weakens and finally dies. Mrs. March is a fount of wisdom, and never seems to put a foot wrong; Mr. March is offstage for much of the book and might as well have been so for its entirety. Mr. Laurence is allowed one misstep, in his quarrel with Laurie; once that is patched up, he is a Kindly Uncle and little more. Mr. Bhaer is allowed no faults either, if one excepts his suspicions regarding Jo's friendship with Laurie.
The book is on the didactic side. That's not a fatal flaw, to be sure, but Alcott is a bit heavy-handed with the moralizing in the early going. (I enjoyed Pilgrim's Progress, but using it as an allegorical model for the temptations and tribulations of the March girls is a bit much.) She moderates it later on, with only occasional lapses, and I think the book improves substantially.
I'm not saying that it's a bad book. Alcott is at her best, I think, in describing incidents: the boating-party, the early problems with disciplining Meg's son, and a number of other scenes are quite enjoyable. She's also fairly good at capturing the emotional turmoil of adolescence and young adulthood - best, of course, with Jo, who seems to be a picture of Alcott herself. But as a whole I didn't find the book particularly gripping. I doubt I'll ever reread it. It's possible that I'll go on to the sequels someday, but not soon.
That done, I've decided to go ahead and read the entirety of Trollope's Chronicles of Barset. I know that I've read The Warden and Barchester Towers, but I don't think I've ever made it through the other four volumes. (One early note: the bedchamber conversation between the Archdeacon and his wife, near the beginning of The Warden, reminded me irresistably of Dr. and Mrs. Abbott, from Everwood; I could easily see Tom Amandes and Merrilyn Gann playing those roles in a film adaptation. Not that I think a film of The Warden would go over well; the issues the story deals with aren't likely to find much resonance in today's USA. But I could be wrong - and I'd certainly watch it!)
It's a comfortable read, a thoroughly domestic coming-of-age story. The three older girls - Meg, Jo, and Amy - are reasonably well-drawn, each with her own distinctive personality, and the problems each faces while growing up are consistent with their already-drawn characters. Unfortunately, most of the other characters (Laurie is an exception) are rather cardboard. Beth is a little angel; her main flaw is an excessive timidity, which is resolved for the most part through the friendliness of Mr. Laurence. After that, her only function is to serve as a focus for sympathy, as she slowly weakens and finally dies. Mrs. March is a fount of wisdom, and never seems to put a foot wrong; Mr. March is offstage for much of the book and might as well have been so for its entirety. Mr. Laurence is allowed one misstep, in his quarrel with Laurie; once that is patched up, he is a Kindly Uncle and little more. Mr. Bhaer is allowed no faults either, if one excepts his suspicions regarding Jo's friendship with Laurie.
The book is on the didactic side. That's not a fatal flaw, to be sure, but Alcott is a bit heavy-handed with the moralizing in the early going. (I enjoyed Pilgrim's Progress, but using it as an allegorical model for the temptations and tribulations of the March girls is a bit much.) She moderates it later on, with only occasional lapses, and I think the book improves substantially.
I'm not saying that it's a bad book. Alcott is at her best, I think, in describing incidents: the boating-party, the early problems with disciplining Meg's son, and a number of other scenes are quite enjoyable. She's also fairly good at capturing the emotional turmoil of adolescence and young adulthood - best, of course, with Jo, who seems to be a picture of Alcott herself. But as a whole I didn't find the book particularly gripping. I doubt I'll ever reread it. It's possible that I'll go on to the sequels someday, but not soon.
That done, I've decided to go ahead and read the entirety of Trollope's Chronicles of Barset. I know that I've read The Warden and Barchester Towers, but I don't think I've ever made it through the other four volumes. (One early note: the bedchamber conversation between the Archdeacon and his wife, near the beginning of The Warden, reminded me irresistably of Dr. and Mrs. Abbott, from Everwood; I could easily see Tom Amandes and Merrilyn Gann playing those roles in a film adaptation. Not that I think a film of The Warden would go over well; the issues the story deals with aren't likely to find much resonance in today's USA. But I could be wrong - and I'd certainly watch it!)