A Very Natural and Forgiveable Mistake

"A very natural and forgiveable mistake, Meg, but one that had better be remedied beforeyou take to different ways..."  Marmee tells Meg that it is her mistake that is seperating the husband and wife.  Thank God it's a forgiveable one at least!

I have never claimed to be a feminist, and I doubt that I will ever claim to be one in the future.  When I picture a feminist, all I think of our bra burning, maculine shaped, men haters (which sometimes is in fact the case).  Now, I will not go so far as to say every feminist is like this, in fact, I know that most feminists are not like the streotype.  Anyway, I am not a feminist, at least, I don't think I am.  However, when I read Chapter 38, On the Shelf, I was appalled.  I was shocked at the fact that "sweet John" would be galavanting around to the neighbors because his wife was with the children.  Never once did it cross his mind to stay and help around the house.  Perhaps this is the 21st Century side of me speaking, but I guess I still find it shocking when I hear about the injustices done to women and the lack of power that they shared.  When Meg goes to Marmee to seek advice, she is given this lovely little gem - "You have only made the mistake that most young women make -- forgotten your husband in your love for your children."  I couldn't believe that Marmee even called it a "mistake of women," isn't it also a "mistake of men"?  This really irritated me.  I was glad that John learned how to help a bit at the end, but I just cannot express how angry I was. 

Beth has died.  I am really not sure what to make of this.  I find myself saddened, but even more intrigued.  Why?  Why did she die?  I think I missed something.  They way I read it made it out to almost be a passive suicide - She gave up on her life and this led to her death.  I just was not at all satisfied with this little story of Beth. 

As I keep reading, I just cannot break away from this "feminist rage" I didn't know that I owned...  I find myself irritatied at all of the March girls.  I wanted them to succeed and go for their dreams, but all of them find that a home with a husband and children takes the place of their dream.  Yes, I understand that this is a successful way of life and they will receive great reward from their families, but what of their reward of their own accomplishments.  I am reminded of a quote of Shakespeare,

              Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood
              To undergo such maiden pilgrimage,
              But earthlier happy is the rose distilled

              Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn,

              Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.

                                             A Midsummer Night's Dream, I, i, 75-80

Theseus illustrates that the gift a woman can share with a husband and children but that one who can live without receives greater reward in heaven.  While none of the girls are given the same choice as sweet Hermia's forced decision, each is given a choice between pursuing their dream while living a single life or give in to a marraige.  It makes me feel as if they each gave up on the life they imagined.  They may share the joy of life with their abundant family, or share in their success alone - it would be a difficult decision for even the most strong willed of characters, like Jo. I can't help, but hear the regret in each of their voices - perhaps the regret is only in my head.  Perhaps another reading at a different time of my own life would lead me to hear happiness and confidence, but I truly only hear regret and



Quotes Galore

In lieu of a discussion, I have chosen a long list of important quotations from this section of Chapters.  Please enjoy the following...

• "Jo disgraced herself by nearly fainting away, and had to be doctored by Laurie in the china closet.  Mr. Brooke kissed Meg entirely by mistake, as he somewhat incoherently explained."
• "I hate estimable young men with brown eyes!"
• "I remember a time when this hand was white and smooth, and your first care was to keep it so.  It was very pretty then, but to me it is much prettier now, for in this seeming blemisshes I read a little history."
• "Laurie's mischief has spoiled you for me. I see it, and so does Mother.  You are not like your old self a bit, and seem so far away from me."
• "This was the moment for the calm, proper speech, but Meg didn't make it."
• "'Don't think of me at all. I'd rather you wouldn't,' said Meg, taking a naughty satisfaction in trying her lover's patience and her own power."
• "Tell me, do you mean to marry this Cook? If you do, not one penny of my money ever goes to you.  Remember that, and be a sensible girl."
• "Here was another fine chance to make the crushing speech and stately exit, but Meg never thought of doing either, and disgraced herself forever in Jo's eyes by meekly whispering, 'Yes, John,' and hiding her face on Mr. Brook's waistcoat."
• "'You've got me, anyhow.  I'm not good for much, I know, but I'll stand by you, Jo, all the days of my life.  Upon my word I will!' and Laurie meant what he said.
• "I can only say with Mrs. March, 'What can you expect when I have four gay girls in the house, and a dashing young neighbor over the way?'"
• "To outsiders the five energetic young women seemed to rule the house, and so they did in many things, but the quiet scholar, sitting among his books, was still the head of the family, the household conscience, anchor, and comforter, for to him the busy, anxious women always turned in troublous times, finding him, in the truest sense of those sacred words, husband and father." 
• "Jo felt herself a woman of means, and spun her little romances diligently."
• "'I don't want a fashionable wedding, but only those about me whom I love, and to them I wish to look and by my familiar self.""
• "Beth has grown slender, pale, and more quiet than ever.  The beautiful, kind eyes are larger, and in them lies an expression that saddens one, although it is not sad itself.  It is the shadow of pain which touches the young face with such pathetic patience, but Beth seldom complains and always speaks hopefully of 'being better soon'."
• "'My lady,' as her friends called her, sincerely desired to be a genuine lady, and was so at heart, but had yet to learn that money cannot buy refinement of nature, that rank does not always confer nobility, and that true breeding makes itself felt in spite of external drawbacks."
• "In stumbling to the door, she upset the basket, and -- oh horror! -- the lobster, in all its vulgar size and brilliancy, revealed to the highborn eyes of a Tudor!"
• "She did not think herself a genius by any means, but when the writing fit came on, she gave herself up to it with entire abandon, and led a blissful life, unconscious of want, care, or bad weather, while she sat safe and happy in an imaginary world, full of friends almost as real and dear to her as any in the flesh."
• "Six weeks is a long time to wait, and a still longer time for a girl to keep a secret, but Jo did both, and was just beginning to give up all hope of ever seeing her manuscript again, when a letter arrived which almost took her breath away, for on opening it, a check for a hundred dollars fell into her lap."
• "... for Jo valued the letter more than the money, because it was encouraging, and after years of effort it was so pleasant to find that she had learned to do something, though it was only to write a sensation story."
• "She did earn several that year, and began to feel herself a power in the house, for by the magic of pen, her 'rubbish' turned into comforts for them all."
• "'Do as he tells you.  He knows what will sell, and we don't.  Make a good, popular book, and get as much money as you can.  By-and-by, when you've got a name, you can afford to digress, and have philosophical and metaphysical people in your novels..."
• "'I should like to see it printed soon,' was all Beth said, and smiled in saying it.  But there was an unconscious emphasis on the last word, and a wistful look in the eyes that never lost their childlike candor, which chilled Jo's heart for a minute with a forboding fear, and decided her to make her little vanture 'soon'."
• "They were very happy even when they discovered that they couldn't live on love alone."
• "Watch yourself, be the first to ask pardon if you both err, and guard against the little piques, misunderstandings, and hasty words that often pave the way for bitter sorrow and regret."
• "He was very kind, forgave her readily, and did not utter one reproach, but Meg knew that she had done and said a thing which would not be forgotten soon, although he might never allude to it again."
• "'How's the little mamma? Where is everybody? Why didn't you tell me before I came home?' began Laurie in a loud whisper."
• "Jo rescued his babies, and marched up and down, with one in each arm, as if already initiated into the mysteries of babytending."
• "'If it was fair, that was in the bond, and I stand to the letter of my bond, Shylock.'"

I Can't Bear Saints...

"I can't bear saints.  Just be a simple, honest, respectable boy, and we'll never desert you." ~ Little Women, Chap. 14

The relationship between Laurie and Jo perplexes me!  I cannot decide which behaves stranger than the other - is it the fact that Jo is so obsessed with boyish qualities or is it the fact that Laurie spends all of his time with a group of girls?  In the mindset of a young girl who wants to belive in love, I want the two to find out they're destined for each other and live happily ever after.  However, this sounds too perfect; this would be to simple.  I want to know what drives them apart.  I caught a glimpse of this separation centered around the Meg's lost glove.  When Laurie confesses the secret location of the glove to Jo; she is mortified at the fact that her sister may be leaving - leading us to understand that they are not always within the same mind.  Following this, Laurie disgraces Meg at a cruel joke.  This act is selfish and shows Laurie's naivity in the world of both women and love.  He has no idea of the emotional strain that he has placed Meg under, and may never understand it.  I believe this is where Jo begins to see him differently - even if only slightly.  Jo starts

I cannot help but feel that I am being preached to as I read the novel.  I enjoy reading it, but I feel that the focus on goodness and virtuous living is sometimes a little too much.  I want to know why there is the necessity for so much preaching.  Is it merely because of the time we live in that this seems over the top? Or was this amount of preaching a lot for even Alcott's time? In turn, I question the believabilty of the novel.  It seems fake; too perfect.  Even when things go wrong, they turn out okay.  At least up to this point, this is how I have perceived it.  Even Beth's illness seems to be too happy.  She gets seriously ill, everyone is worried, and begin questioning their own moral goals and lessons, but she is cured and lives happily ever after.  I think this spouts from the Christian idea of forgiveness. Each time there is a new problem in the family, the girls use it as a way to remind them to fulfill their "Pilgrim's Progress" story; and each time, they act more wholesome and faithful.  As a sign of their faith and them making the right choices, they are forgiven through the outcome of each terrible ordeal.  When Jo almost kills Amy on the frozen lake; when father is suddenly struck horribly ill; when Beth becomes sick and the young neighbor child dies; each of these events are in response to recently commited deadly sin (pride, sloth, etc.).  I guess, the "evil side" in me wants to know - how much does it take for someone to die in this story? What horrible deed does someone have to commit before something ends without a happy ending?

Oh, I must mention my confusion concerning poor Beth and her new found religion.  Up until now, I believed that the Marches believed in Christianity; however, I had never thought closer into it.  While at her aunt's, the maid introduces Amy to the Catholic religion.  Amy seems interested in the rosary and the picture of Mary holding the baby Jesus - she finds comfort in it.  I am interested to see how this plays out throughtout the novel.  Marmee seems to acknoweldge the desire to have a concreate, visual, object and place to pray to, but I cannot help but feel she was afraid of losing her child to a new religion.  Growing up in a very religious household, I found this very unsettling and I am unsure how my mother would have handled the idea that someone was pushing a different religion on to me. 

I had never read Alcott's Little Women until now.  Honestly, it always seemed like it would be a terrible bore; however, I have really enjoyed it so far.  Alcott wonderfully clues in to each character

It's Only Forever, Not Long at All.

"It's only forever, not long at all." ~ Sung by Jareth, the Goblin King, in Jim Henson's Labyrinth


As I read through Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, I was reminded of one of my all time favorite movies, Labyrinth, starring David Bowie.  Sarah is a young girl who is irritated by her job of caring for her little brother, Toby.  She makes a wish for him to be taken away, and surprisingly, her wish comes true. 


Sarah, like Alice, are suddenly placed into a sub-world filled with nonsense and lacking humans and adults.  Sarah and Alice are both expected 


to be continued...

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat...

"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat..."  A lovely song performed at the Mad Hatter and March Hare's tea party in Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland". 

It is evident right away that Carroll attempts to make this story relate to children, specifically, reluctant readers.  ..."And what is the use of a book," thought Alice, "without pictures or conversations?"  Many children are turned off of books after they realize that most "adult books" don't contain pictures; the interesting thing is that many adults still wish they could read picture books and the like. 

There is definitely a "drugged" overtone to the text; specifically with the character of the Catapillar.  However, I feel like many people stretch to find new evidence of this drug influence.  I know the character of the white rabbit is often questioned because of his description.  Many people claim that the rabbit's "red eyes" are a hint to a drug induced experience that Alice must be inside of at the moment.  However, I fail to see critics point on this view and take it as a stretched attempt to theorize; choosing a topic which may be controversial while grasping for a thread.  Whenever I go to a pet store and see rabbits, the white ones almost always have red eyes.  This is not a sign of the devil, but merely a common occurance.  I think that Carroll was attempting to make the white rabbit seem relatable to his readers, and not as something completely out of the ordinary (besides his clothing and talking.)

As I am reading, I want to find in Alice as a role model, but I cannot help but feel she is nothing of the sort.  Alice's courage in the face of dangerous experiences can be considered nothing more than naiveity.  In the beginning, Alice leads the curious white rabbit into his hole where she begins tumbling.  There is never a glimpse of terror or fear from Alice; in fact, she is bored as she falls down the giant rabbit hole and looks at the items on the shelf. 

"I - I hardly know, Sir, just at present - at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I have must have changed several times since then."  Alice has changed in size; however, her entire person and self construction has always been based on the community that she lives in.  Alice has changed superficially, but the real change is her role in society.  The societal privledges and respect she is given in her normal life are ripped away when she enters Wonderland.  I think this is a really interesting concept to look into more.  Many literary theorists look into character role (ie: gender, wealth, stature) as the key things which define someone in the time period's society.  But then what is Carroll trying to express?  Is he trying to say that children rarely have a specific role or perhaps the fact that a child can change greatly placed in a different environment.  Theoretically, Alice is given a chance to be an adult - to have respect and authority and the ability to speak her mind without fear of punishment for speaking above her role as "young girl who should be seen, and not heard". 

I recognize that Alice in Wonderland is a very classic piece of literature; one of the first of its kind.  Wonderland is often referenced in many different stories, movies, and television shows.  As a big proponent for the ABC show, Lost, I couldn't help, but recognize the Wonderland references throughout the series.  For instance, the white rabbit, through the rabbit hole, the looking glass, are all definite and specific connections between the two.  Lost featured books quite often throughout the series, and the writers and directors choose these texts very deliberately.  The idea of the island was, in a sense, the same as the idea of Wonderland - both were fictional elements that existed with in a non-fictional world.  However, Wonderland brings it's readers back to a nostalgic time period, while the Lost island brought nothing of the sort. 

Hemmings article about Wonderland made me question my own interpretations of the book.  I definitely understand the nostalgic atmosphere put on by Alice's childlike innocence.  She is clearly facsinated by her new found power in this new land, yet she still suffers from childlike mistakes.  For instance, she cannot even assume that a bottle of poison, might not be labeled "poison;" if the bottle says, "drink me" then the bottle must be honest.  This innocense in Alice is what makes the reader connect to her, but Hemmings article leads me into completely different ways of looking at the story.  Hemming's relates Wonderland to the works of Freud - which automatically means it is realting to sex, power, and ownership.  There is a blatent absence of sexual discourse in the novel; however, given this new way of interpretting the text, makes the mind strive to find these overtones.  Overall what I find is that there is a very creepy idea of an adult writing a children's book about a child.  Adults have experienced and knowingly understand many adult concepts and ideas.  The Cheshire Cat, for one, is a truly terrifying creature.  While it never harms anyone or seems to hurt Alice; the idea of an invisible creature that is always around, always watching, presents an uneasy or voyeuristic mood.  What I find interesting is that the cat, never smiles, he grins; a grin is much different from a smile. 



Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland"
Robert Hemming's "A Taste of Nostalgia: Children's books from the Golden Age - Carroll, Grahame, and Milne"

A Commonplace Blog

This is a commplace blog. Commonplacing - the art of taking important information, quotes, videos, articles and other intelluctual property and combining them all into one place.  Spoiler Alert - This blog will contain information and opinions on texts with the assumption that the reader has read the texts.  If you, like me, hate having books spoiled for you, I suggest that you read the book first.

The idea of commonplacing is not strictly for my own opinions (then again, I have no followers, so it really is only me).  I would appreciate your own additions through comments and suggestions.

"Commonplace Books" a Wikipedia article