Children's books--part deux

On my recent post about children's books, I made a very grave omission--Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. How could I? To quote another New Englander, it is seared--seared in my memory.

The book was so riveting because the girls were real live people who formed a real family--with their jokes, squabbles, problems and vanities. Every girl who ever read the book identified with Jo, the impetuous, warm-hearted yet hasty-tempered heroine. I don't know anyone who read it who didn't shed a tear at the death of Beth. Yet it seemed right and fitting for Beth to die--you sensed she was too good to live.

It did not seem right or natural for Jo to turn down the proposal from her childhood friend, Laurie. He had everything: they were soulmates, he had money, he adored her--what was not to like? I'm still mad at Louisa May Alcott for that.

But maybe Louisa had her reasons. She had seen enough of marriage, perhaps. Her father, Bronson Alcott, a true idealist, never met a principle he would not sacrifice his comfort and that of his family for. As a traditional nineteenth century husband and father, he was a dud. Louisa had to earn her own living and provide for the rest of her family as well, much of the time.