Owlcat’s CBR V Review #24 of Marmee & Louisa, the Untold Story of Louisa May Alcott and her Mother by Eve Laplante

NPR thought this was one of the best books of 2012 and as a result, I had been long intending to read it, not only because of their recommendation and high praise, but also because, since my ‘tweens, I had been a huge fan of Louisa May Alcott, totally loving Little Women and Little Men, though not aware then of her other novels, nor her poetry that was mostly addressed to her parents.  Like most people, too, I had been under the assumption that much or most of her influence and encouragement came from her father.

I have to admit, however, that I disagree with NPR and, instead, found this book to be dry and written as if it were someone’s doctorate dissertation.  Laplante is a descendent of Louisa May Alcott and had access to her and her family member’s diaries, the ones that weren’t destroyed by the family as they approached death, and it’s her interpretations of these intimate works as well as historical documents and issues that she uses to establish her premise that LMA’s mother had influenced her more greatly than her father ever did.

She begins the book with a detailed account of her mother’s upbringing and the historic figures and events occurring around her – these followed the American Revolution before and after and life in Boston for the most part. Throughout her own life, the mother was thwarted by society and tradition in terms of education and access to independence and, though clearly an intelligent and creative woman, had great difficulty living under these circumstances.  That time period did not allow a woman to be much more than chattel and to be instead, subservient to her family and later her spouse.

According to Ms. Laplante, Bronson Alcott, LMA’s father, was incapable of viewing his effects on his family that his Utopian philosophies imposed on them.  He tried and failed at numerous conventional jobs as a teacher and when he attempted to establish his own schools;  at first he would do well but as his teachings became more radical, even the more liberal families would take their children out of his schools.  LMA’s mother did much to help with the teaching, supporting him through his various attempts, and eventually even becoming what would be considered a social worker (one of the few positions allowed to a woman) in order to help support the family.  His move to Concord and his establishment of his community there, Fruitlands, resulted in near starvation at times for his family and only through help from friends (including Ralph Waldo Emerson and other renowned philsophers) were they able to cope. Society would pity Mrs. Alcott and the children and would be critical of Bronson because he so often failed and abandoned his family for long tours through the country espousing his philosophy, but society wouldn’t allow Mrs. Alcott to do anything beyond the norm for those times.

Consequently, because she was always the present parent, when she realized LMA’s talents and determination, she seemed to vicariously push her into the direction of writing for a living.  Her health was somewhat fragile over time and LMA also was influenced by this, feeling her father was in many ways responsible for her condition, and it was up to her to help her mother and to give her what she needed to overcome everything she had endured with her father.

We see the early attempts at writing, Louisa’s choices to work in Boston as a governess (which she hated but found necessary to earn money), her brief nursing career during the Civil War, and gradually a sense of the disparity in the social norms that had become even more evident after the war.  In a sense, her mother’s greatest influence was her always sacrificing for her daughter(s) and finding ways to enhance their talents (another sister was an artist who eventually moved to Europe, where social norms were much more lenient), and giving Louisa a sense of permission to override the local norms as times changed.

As time passed, Louisa was afflicted with an apparent autoimmune disease (likely lupus) that would be debilitating at times, and which made writing and caring for her mother, her two great causes, extremely difficult, though she still managed both.  Again, I felt it was more the influence of her mother’s sacrificing everything that required her to do this.

The information in this book is interesting, to say the least.  I particularly enjoyed reading about the early childhood/teen period of her mother but got bogged down by the minute details, particularly around family members, that went beyond explaining Louisa’s mother’s upbringing.  I did learn some things; I hadn’t realized that the family tree on her mother’s side included John Hancock and other well-known Bostonian and colonial persons.  I also hadn’t been aware of the prevalence and importance of ministers within the family on both sides, including her mother’s brother, a prominent Unitarian minister, and that influence on both her mother and herself. Nor was I aware of her autoimmune illness and her stint nursing during the Civil War and the typhus she developed as a result. But again, though interesting, much of the information was not relevant to what I felt was the story being presented and like a dissertation that might lack enough pages, had been added to “pad” the book.  While reading the last few chapters, I began wondering if it would ever end!  I think it could have been half the length it was and we would still have enjoyed the information presented and recognized the connections Laplante was drawing.  I had the sense, too, that she was vilifying Bronson (understandable) but hadn’t enough information to develop the premise that Louisa’s mother was more influential than her father.  This was a very disappointing book, particularly in light of my admiration for Louisa May Alcott.

ElCicco #CBR5 Review #35:Pure by Andrew Miller


Set in 18th-century Paris on the eve of the revolution, Pure is the fictional tale of the destruction of les Innocents cemetery and its church (structures which really existed and were destroyed). The main character is the engineer hired to oversee the project, Jean-Baptiste Baratte. He is an idealistic young man, a fan of Voltaire who once conceived of a utopia called Valenciana, where “… economics and industry were threaded together to the benefit and improvement of all. The king’s minister Lafosse has hired Baratte to remove the bodies and purify the environment that has poisoned the air, water and food in the surrounding neighborhood. Lafosse tells Baratte, “It is poisoning the city. Left long enough, it may poison not just local shopkeepers but the king himself. The king and his ministers.” As Jean-Baptiste works to purify les Innocents, greater transformations are occurring around him and also within him. The question might be whether anything is really purified in the end and whether the means of purification aren’t themselves quite polluted in some way.

Baratte finds himself surrounded by a large and colorful group of characters once he moves to Paris. His landlords, the Monnards, have a beautiful daughter who is deeply troubled by the destruction of the cemetery. The church organist Armand becomes a friend who supports the destruction even though it means the end of his livelihood. LeCoeur, his old friend from their days together at the mines at Valenciennes and co-creator of “Valenciana,” is recruited to help with the project and provide laborers from the mines. There is a strange and reclusive priest (who reminded me just a bit of Mrs. Rochester in Jane Eyre); Dr. Guillotin, who is interested in the disinterred bodies; and several women whose interactions with Baratte change their lives completely — Jeanne, the sexton’s granddaughter, Marie the maid, and the prostitute Heloise.

Baratte starts his project with great enthusiasm and idealism. In his mind, “…destroying the cemetery of les Innocents is to sweep away in fact, not in rhetoric, the poisonous influence of the past.” But as the project proceeds over the course of the year, a number of problems develop that corrupt Baratte’s enthusiasm. The work in the cemetery pits is filthy, depressing and dangerous. The excavations seem to have a deleterious effect on both the miners and residents of the neighborhood, and Baratte himself is physically harmed as a result of the work. Moreover, this is a time when political and mob violence are on the rise and incendiary slogans appear on the streets. Eventually, Baratte’s reflections change from utopian dreams of the future to musings on violence and its inevitability.

This is a fine piece of historical fiction. It begins and ends at Versailles, showing in subtle and not-so-subtle ways the changes occurring in France and the rising tide of revolution. The story of Baratte himself is compelling as well, showing youth’s loss of innocence and idealism in the face of an increasingly unfair and violent reality.