Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Chapters 10-23 (to the end of Part One)

Our conversations thus far have brought up what religion Louisa May Alcott was. This article touches on this aspect, and I’ve excerpted parts (partly to push the questions down in blog readers for those who are reading for the first time). What I am struck by is I think this religious milieu reminds me of the one portrayed in Sena Jeter Naslund’s Ahab’s Wife*

Louisa was the second daughter of Bronson Alcott and Abigail May, who met while Abigail was visiting her brother, Samuel J. May, minister of the Unitarian church in Brooklyn, Connecticut. Abigail fell for the tall, handsome young schoolteacher with radical ideas. Her family feared—rightly—that Bronson had little notion of how to support a family, but the young people were not to be deterred. They were married on May 23, 1830, at King's Chapel, Boston, where the May family were members.
The couple moved to Philadelphia, where their first daughter Anna was born. They lived in Germantown when Louisa arrived on November 29, 1832. Before Louisa's second birthday they returned to Boston for the opening of Bronson Alcott's unconventional Temple School, which lasted almost five years. Elizabeth was born in June, 1835, and Abby May five years later. By that time the Alcotts were living, for the first of several times, in Concord, Massachusetts. Under the wing of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Alcott recovered from the failure of his Temple School and looked about for new projects.
The girls were mostly educated at home. "I never went to school," Louisa wrote, "except to my father or such governesses as from time to time came into the family. . . . so we had lessons each morning in the study. And very happy hours they were to us, for my father taught in the wise way which unfolds what lies in the child's nature as a flower blooms, rather than crammed it, like a Strasburg goose, with more than it could digest. I never liked arithmetic nor grammar . . . but reading, writing, composition, history, and geography I enjoyed, as well as the stories read to us with a skill peculiarly his own."
When Louisa was ten the family, now under the influence of Bronson Alcott's English friends Charles Lane and Henry Wright, moved to Harvard, Massachusetts. On a hillside farm they planned to establish a model community, Fruitlands, making use of no animal products or labor except, as Abigail Alcott observed, for that of women. She and her small daughters struggled to keep household and farm going while the men went about the countryside philosophizing. In a few months quarrels erupted, and winter weather saw the end of the experiment. The only lasting product of Fruitlands was Louisa's reminiscence,"Transcendental Wild Oats."
The family retreated to Concord and for the next three years lived across the road from Emerson in a house they called Hillside, a relatively happy period preserved in the first chapters of Little Women. Closeness to the Emerson family was important to Louisa. Her first book, Flower Fables, 1854, was written for Ellen Emerson, whose father she idolized. …In these years, Louisa "got religion," as she later put it. Running in the Concord woods early one fall morning, she stopped to see the sunshine over the meadows. "A very strange and solemn feeling came over me as I stood there," she wrote in her journal, "with no sound but the rustle of the pines, no one near me, and the sun so glorious, as for me alone. It seemed as if I felt God as I never did before, and I prayed in my heart that I might keep that happy sense of nearness all my life."
In adulthood she wrote: "When feeling most alone, I find refuge in the Almighty Friend. If this is experiencing religion, I have done it; but I think it is only the lesson one must learn as it comes, and I am glad to know it."
Over the next few years she read Plutarch, Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Goethe, Schiller, Bettine Brentano, Mme. de Stael, Emerson, Charlotte Bronte, Carlyle, Margaret Fuller, and George Sand, among others. Such literature fueled her active imagination with ideas for the thrillers she began writing in her teens, hoping to support what she called "the pathetic family."
Her first story, "The Rival Painters, A Tale of Rome" was written at the Hillside house in 1848 and published four years later in Olive Branch. By that time, the Alcotts were back in Boston, where they lived at five different addresses between 1849 and 1852. The two older girls contributed to the meager family income by teaching. Louisa's unhappy few weeks with a Dedham family were recorded in her essay, "How I Went Out to Service." Publisher James T. Fields rejected the piece and advised her: "Stick to your teaching, Miss Alcott. You can't write." Disheartened but determined, she continued to write, gradually learning how to produce what would sell. On her own in Boston she also took in sewing and served occasionally as governess. Living as frugally as possible, she sent home almost all the money she earned..
In this difficult time Louisa discovered Theodore Parker. "Go to hear Parker," she wrote in her journal, "and he does me good. Asks me to come Sunday evenings to his house. I did go there, and met [Wendell] Phillips, [William Lloyd] Garrison, . . . and other great men, and sit in my corner weekly, staring and enjoying myself."
The Parkers offered the young woman practical as well as spiritual support when she needed help in finding a job. Under the name of Mr. Powers, Theodore Parker appears in her autobiographical novel, Work, which includes a description of his Music Hall services. In 1881 she wrote a preface to a new edition of the Prayers of Theodore Parker.
According to her biographer Ednah Dow Cheney, Alcott also liked to hear Unitarian Cyrus Bartol preach but never joined any church. While visiting New York in 1875 she heard the Revs. Octavius Brooks Frothingham and Henry Whitney Bellows. She enjoyed the company of Unitarian John Turner Sargent and his Radical Club, which she attended in 1867: "Fine time. Bartol inspired; Emerson chairman; Alcott on his legs; strong-minded ladies out in full force; aesthetic tea for refreshment."


On to the questions:


1) The delightful Caeseria mentioned that she never could stand the “Pickwick Papers” section of Little Women. Why do you think that it was included in the book, and what do you think it adds or doesn’t add to the storyline?

2) When Amy is at Aunt March’s house, she has a long discussion with the maid (Esther/Estelle), who is Catholic. She makes herself what an Orthodox would call an icon corner to pray in, and after discussing it with her mother, makes on at the house as well. loved this part, but am interested in how this struck you and how you feel this ties in with our discussions about the Unitarian and utopian beliefs that Louisa May Alcott lived and has thus far brought into the storyline.

3) Beth contracts Scarlet Fever through nursing the family down the street and tragically is holding their baby when it succumbs to the illness. How does this way of contracting the disease impact her character and the characters around her?

4) We end the section with another Christmas, this one with Mr. March having just arrived home. He brings up the theme of Pilgrim’s Progress and discusses how each daughter has grown and changed since he last saw them. Do you think this is an effective way to end the section and do you agree with his assessments of the characters?

*one of the most amazingly written novels I have ever read. Each word was a delight.

15 Comments:

At 12:50 PM , Blogger Mimi said...

The delightful Caeseria mentioned that she never could stand the “Pickwick Papers” section of Little Women. Why do you think that it was included in the book, and what do you think it adds or doesn’t add to the storyline?
I think it’s a valid criticism. I don’t think it adds anything to the storyline and the stories were a bit cheesy. But, I also think that in many ways, it reflects the way that serials were written at the time (including the ones that Jo sells in the book). I also hated the way what Jo had Laurie behind the door during the vote, tacky.

When Amy is at Aunt March’s house, she has a long discussion with the maid (Esther/Estelle), who is Catholic. She makes herself what an Orthodox would call an Icon Corner to pray in, and after discussing it with her mother, makes on at the house as well. I loved this part, but am interested in how this struck you and how you feel this ties in with our discussions about the Unitarian and utopian beliefs that Louisa May Alcott lived and has thus far brought into the storyline.
I loved this (obviously). I really liked the way that Amy found that her faith was increased by retreating and spending time in prayer, and that the picture of the Madonna (or Theotokos, in Orthodoxy) was helpful to her, and at the end when she got one from her mom at Christmas, since she could never quite draw the face right. I also kind of giggled at “she thought that the rosary wouldn’t work with her Protestant prayers”. It is interesting because this is the most blatant religiousness so far in the book, and it is obviously opposite of what her beliefs are. I wonder why she put it in?
I found it interesting that Aunt March renamed her maid.

Beth contracts Scarlet Fever through nursing the family down the street and tragically is holding their baby when it succumbs to the illness. How does this way of contracting the disease impact her character and the characters around her?

In my best Brooklyn accent “oy, the guilt”. My goodness, to have had the older sisters be caught up in their own wants and needs and not go to the house and then have Beth (the sickly one) go and find the family in such dire straits was so heartwrenching, and my heart just broke at her holding the baby. Sniff, sniff. And the girls did suffer a lot of guilt from their decision. Although, I do admit to hearing Friends’ Joey’s voice in my head, “Beth is really, really sick and Jo is there but I don’t think she’s going to get better”. I did like how they had the rose on the bedside table so that her first two sights were her mother’s face and the white rose – very symbolic.

We end the section with another Christmas, this one with Mr. March having just arrived home. He brings up the theme of Pilgrim’s Progress and discusses how each daughter has grown and changed since he last saw them. Do you think this is an effective way to end the section and do you agree with his assessments of the characters?
I think it tied it up well and brought the storyline full circle, and I did agree with his assessments of the girls.

Great discussion!

 
At 1:58 PM , Blogger Marsha said...

#1. I never liked the Pickwick Papers part either. BORING!

2. Obviously, I loved this part. Though it seems out of character for Amy. And I am getting closer to putting my finger on what bothers me about the religiosity: there is no Jesus, no redepmtion, simply hard work and will. Right?

3. OK, I've read this book a lot, so some of the reverence has worn off LOL. I found this the most putrid part of the story, sorry. The extremely obvious juxtaposition of how she got sick while they were being "selfish" and then dying and all of that...well, that's the Victorian element in an otherwise somewhat modern-for-the-times book.

#4. Once again, irreverence. I did like the way he tied it up. And it made sense coming from such an unworldly, pastoral man. But there's clearly a "father-hero" element here. Know what I mean? Though perhaps he was just that luminous. He certainly comes across that way.

And hey, don't get me wrong, I LOVE this book. And always will. Very Charlotte Mason (an English educator) in many ways.

 
At 10:42 AM , Blogger Janelle said...

1. As a former student of literature and history, I think the inclusion of "The Pickwick Papers" shows how popular/pervasive Dickens was at that time. It also lets Alcott show the girls and Laurie at play, pretending, in the same childish ways that kids today pretend to be TV characters. I've never had a strong feeling about it one way or the other, honestly!

2. The inclusion of this scene is interesting when you think how "anti-papist" so many people were back then, but it does seem to fit in with the Unitarian point-of-view.

3. Oh, I always hate and dread this part of the book. That poor child, thrust into a situation far, far beyond her ability to deal with, and then (eventually) having to pay for it with her life. As a child, I always felt angry with Marmee and the older sisters for putting her into that situation, and as an adult, I still do.

4. Yes, I do think that Mr. March's arrival home and summation of how his daughters have grown is a very satisfying way to end that part of the book. His tone is a little condescending, though. Sometimes when I read that part I get the feeling that he really has no idea how hard things were for them.

 
At 11:05 AM , Blogger Marsha said...

oh, and I wanted to say thanks to Mimi for finding and posting the info about the Alcotts. I find an author's life story to be very telling, as well. Thanks, mimi!!

 
At 3:55 PM , Blogger Meadowlark Days said...

Reading these entries, I really wish I could join in with you all! But less fun reading is required right now...enjoy it!

 
At 5:07 PM , Blogger Mimi said...

Marsha - And I am getting closer to putting my finger on what bothers me about the religiosity: there is no Jesus, no redepmtion, simply hard work and will. Right?
Yes, yes, yes! I do think you’ve hit upon it for me, anyway. What is being portrayed is this pseudo-Christianity, and that’s why the scene with Amy and the icon corner is so incongruous.
Janelle - That poor child, thrust into a situation far, far beyond her ability to deal with, and then (eventually) having to pay for it with her life I definitely agree – she is thrust into this situation, and is not able to handle it – both physically (clearly) and mentally.
Marsha and Janelle - But there's clearly a "father-hero" element here and His tone is a little condescending, though. Sometimes when I read that part I get the feeling that he really has no idea how hard things were for them. Yes, I agree. I don’t think that he really has his “finger on the pulse” of the family and what makes them tick – partially I suspect because of his absence and partially because of his character’s flaws.
Geraldine Brooks portrayal of Mr. March actually helped me see this character, because right now (even though he’s not been in it too much at all as of yet) – he’s really one-dimensional and out of touch. She imagines his background and his struggles with connecting with Marmee.
Thank you, everyone, great discussion I’m loving it!
And, Meadow, I’m sorry. Ugh. Non-fun reading

 
At 4:44 PM , Blogger Janelle said...

I LOVED Geraldine Brooks' take on Mr. March. It was so amazing to get a completely different viewpoint of that character and story.

 
At 9:23 PM , Blogger Caeseria said...

Trying really really hard to remember, and failing.... have not read this book since maybe junior high at the most recent.
I didn't think the Pickwick papers had anything to do with the storyline, but honestly can't remember anything OF them, except that it got to where I would see the term "Pickwick Papers" and start flipping ahead for actual story, preferably with action.
I desperately wish I could remember the Catholic maid. I didn't know Alcott was a Unitarian, so it would interest me now to reread that section, keeping her religion in mind.
I barely remember the scarlet fever part. I do remember sighing at the Victorianism of it all, though I wouldn't have known that's what it was at the age when I read this book. The romantic nature of illness and frailty, the sacrifice of the young and virtuous, yada yada, fetch the smelling salts. (What a horribly unsentimental little girl I was!)
I remember LOVING the part when the father came home for Christmas!!! I'm a daddy's girl. Daddies ARE heroes, at least when you're a little kid. I liked the summing up. It was also a refreshing break from estrogen. (Sorry!)
Deeply and passionately not a fan of Dickens either, so if the Pickwick Papers were a reference to his popularity, that would account for my skipping them.
I need to read this series more frequently!

 
At 1:44 PM , Anonymous Grace said...

1 - LOL that this Pickwick Papers episode was so underwhelming to everyone. I don't know. I *wanted* to be charmed by it, but I found myself skipping over most of it. I was impressed that girls aged 12-17 used to be able to write like that, and I thought it was good fun in the movie. But I didn't like it in the book.

2 - I thought that little dance with the idea of Catholicism was interesting, and a little daring for Alcott to do when so many readers would probably disapprove heartily. Did you notice Marmee's response when she found out? It's as if Amy said she was going to try a little snake-handling to see if she liked it. There's one very subtle sentence where Marmee says that she guesses maybe it's okay when she looks over at the prayer table and sees that the rosary has dust on it but the "little book" is well-worn. Now, if you want to see an author that is NOT ambivalent about the Catholic Church, you'll want to check out Pilgrim's Progress. He thought the Pope was Satan's spawn.

3 - Beth. Well, I'll be the odd man out. I wasn't annoyed at the construct of Beth being SO good that she pretty much killed herself taking care of poor people's babies. It's kind of phony, but not to the point I roll my eyes. I did think it was interesting to note that Germans and Irish in this book are only ever alluded to as being "low" sorts of people. (When Amy has to throw her limes out the window, she and the other children are disgusted to hear cheers go up from the little Irish children, who are their sworn enemies.) I don't think Alcott was being a bigot, just reflecting the values that existed then. But I digress...

4 - Christmas sermonizing from Mr. March: bleah. Well, his dialogue is almost indistinguishable from Marmee's, so that he sounds as if he was her twin but wore pants. But it isn't quite so tiresome to hear a mother moralizing. Dads tend not to talk that way. But maybe Alcott's father did? If I were her, I'd think I would have some bitterness about the sham of this commune where the men waft around all day thinking thoughts and the women work their butts off trying to make ends meet. But maybe she always believed that he was *that* good and *that* unworldly and just couldn't blame him.

By the way, if there was one scene that I thought was handled kind of well, it was the time when Meg finally faces Mr. Brooke in chapter 23. An author writing today wouldn't have the faintest idea what a really modest young lady would do when confronted with the sudden introduction of romantic love, and I thought it rung true to say that she'd run a gamut of emotion that would include terror and spite along with the predictable heart flutters and such.

 
At 4:12 PM , Blogger Mimi said...

Grace - yes, I agree, that was handled very well, and it is something that we have a hard time putting our finger on nowadays in our current mores.

I also think that you brought up a very good point about the German and the Irish portrayals in the book - I agree that it is a product of her time.

Caeseria - Beth's story is particuarly Victorian, I agree - and can definitely see rolling my eyes, and definitely did at the "roll up your shirtsleeves and work and everything will be alright" that she espoused earlier as well.

I have this vague recollection of reading a book at my aunt's house that *may* have been "The Pickwick Papers" but may not have been. If it was, I do recall it fondly. I think that Janelle put her finger on it well that it was speaking to the affect on the culture of Dickens, and I recall other scenes in other books that do it well (Beverly Cleary's "Mitch and Amy" comes to mind, when they play "Little House on the Prairie"), that is a very good way to look at it. Grace, I should go rewatch the movie, because I definitely have no recollection of the way it was handled there.

and, eep, I'd not thought about "Pilgrim's Progress" being anti-papist, but I can definitely see how it would be. I just ordered the book from PBS, so I am planning on reading it - but not imeediately

 
At 4:12 PM , Blogger Mimi said...

Grace - yes, I agree, that was handled very well, and it is something that we have a hard time putting our finger on nowadays in our current mores.

I also think that you brought up a very good point about the German and the Irish portrayals in the book - I agree that it is a product of her time.

Caeseria - Beth's story is particuarly Victorian, I agree - and can definitely see rolling my eyes, and definitely did at the "roll up your shirtsleeves and work and everything will be alright" that she espoused earlier as well.

I have this vague recollection of reading a book at my aunt's house that *may* have been "The Pickwick Papers" but may not have been. If it was, I do recall it fondly. I think that Janelle put her finger on it well that it was speaking to the affect on the culture of Dickens, and I recall other scenes in other books that do it well (Beverly Cleary's "Mitch and Amy" comes to mind, when they play "Little House on the Prairie"), that is a very good way to look at it. Grace, I should go rewatch the movie, because I definitely have no recollection of the way it was handled there.

and, eep, I'd not thought about "Pilgrim's Progress" being anti-papist, but I can definitely see how it would be. I just ordered the book from PBS, so I am planning on reading it - but not imeediately

 
At 9:20 PM , Blogger Rosemary said...

1. I also thought the Pickwick Papers section was boring and remember thinking what is the point of this. I think the other commenters have come up with logical explanations. I didn't enjoy that part. Very slow reading.
2. the "prayer closet" idea was interesting. Yes, the lack of mention of Jesus or redemption or the love of God made the whole thing seem a little shallow-- not just a little--VERY shallow. Kind of like our"moment of silence" rather than saying a prayer. It does seem consistent with the unitarian approach. Still, I liked that at least some genuine spiritual element came into the story, rather than the theme of trying harder and harder to "be good."
3. I thought Beth's contracting of scarlet fever to be very touching. I remember thinking it terrifying, as a young girl, that Beth might die! It certainly enshrines Beth as the very dear sister whom everybody loves.
4. I think it effectively ends the section. Not sure how he could have such insight into their progress having not been there the whole time. Was his information all from Marmee? Even as a stay-at-home mom I find it hard to evaluate my children's progress in the development of virtue. Seemed a little unrealistic but heartwarming, nonetheless.

 
At 1:39 PM , Blogger Mimi said...

Rosemary - yes, I agree, Mr. March seems to have his finger on the pulse of the family pretty well for only having been home a couple of hours! Grin!

And, Still, I liked that at least some genuine spiritual element came into the story, rather than the theme of trying harder and harder to "be good."
I think this touches on why it captures me - now we've finally gotten into some meat about a spiritual life in one of the girls.

And, I know - as a child, it was so awful to contemplate Beth dying.

 
At 4:52 PM , Blogger Sarah in Indiana said...

OK--I finished the 2nd section. I wish I would have had time to read along with all of you at the beginning of the month. Good discussion! Thanks for stopping by my blog, Mimi.

1)I agree that it's a reflection of at that time; making references to other works established an author as literary and part of the conversation. I don't mind this section, though I'm not crazy about Dickens. I think the idea is fun but the execution is very dry for modern readers.

2) Esther/Estelle: It was actually a common practice in the Victorian era for people to change their servants' names to "proper" Anglo names.

Icon corner--I noticed the dusty rosary as well, and like others was struck how empty much of the 'work hard, do good' spirituality of the book seems without Christ. When Amy shows the copy she made of the Madonna & Child to her mother she says "I like to think He was a little child once, for then I don't seem so far away, and that helps me." I think this may be the only reference to God Incarnate in the book.

3) It makes them all feel pretty selfish, doesn't it? That's pretty rough way to learn a lesson. Alcott does lay it on thick; a pretty raw deal for Beth that she dies so others learn not to be selfish. You might take the opposite lesson, if you were perverse. Be selfish and avoid scarlet fever. I'm being detached here; Beth's story inevitably draws tears from me when I read it.

4) I really like the symmetry, so I do think this is a very effective end to the section. I think it's actually kind of realistic that he can give accurate assessments: It's much easier to see growth if you've been away and come back than if you're around to watch it slowly inch along.

 
At 7:12 PM , Blogger Mimi said...

Hi Sarah! It is lovely to have you join in.

I like your comment about the Pickwick Papers section being dry for modern readers - I wonder what parts of modern classics will have the same thing happen in a few generations.

I love this: "I like to think He was a little child once, for then I don't seem so far away, and that helps me." I think this may be the only reference to God Incarnate in the book. and a very good point.

And, also it is true that we are able to see growth a lot differently when we haven't been involved in the day to day - kind of like when your kids come back from a vacation and seem so much bigger.

 

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home