March and Marmee

One of the things that really struck me was the way March and Marmee seemed to know each other so well, embraced each other's faults as well as virtues, anticipated each other's thoughts. And yet, when it mattered most, they misread each other completely. March believed Marmee held her abolitionist principles above all else, including her own material comfort and keeping her family together. And Marmee had no idea that March was making these rash decisions not out of a selfish passion for the cause, but out of a desire to please her and win her admiration and love. Such a tragic misunderstanding.

Beloved Beth

I wish I had the book with me so I could quote material, but I'm struck at how, again, I get so weepy over good little Beth. Her protection of Flora is one of the high points for me in the book. I won't say much else in case you don't know Beth's storyline, but she is a wonderful heroine.

I also thought, for a while, that March was never going to mention her, that he seemed more apt to mention the other three, and I'm glad the author didn't take it in that direction. All the fuss over Jo has always bugged me; I don't care that she was high-spirited. The other sisters were more interesting.

Read it in one night

Erin, I was slow to pick up the book, but I read it in one sitting. It was terrific. Now, as I expected, I've got to go back and re-read "Little Women." It'll be hard to reconcile this grim, lusty March with Alcott's March. It also puts a whole new spin on Marmee.

Favorite piece of dialogue

I am not quite finished, and I don't mean to pre-empt a possible discussion point by Erin, but this is my favorite piece of dialogue in "March" so far.

An old slave woman, upon being chastised for whippin' kids, says: "You tell me now; what the good Lord go make switches for, if it ain't for lickin' boy chilluns?"

I LOVE Geraldine Brooks.

Erin's pick: "March" by Geraldine Brooks

From Louisa May Alcott’s beloved classic Little Women, Geraldine Brooks has taken the character of the absent father, March, who has gone off to war, leaving his wife and daughters to make do in mean times. To evoke him, Brooks turned to the journals and letters of Bronson Alcott, Louisa May’s father — a friend and confidant of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. In her telling, March emerges as an idealistic chaplain in the little known backwaters of a war that will test his faith in himself and in the Union cause as he learns that his side, too, is capable of acts of barbarism and racism. As he recovers from a near mortal illness, he must reassemble his shattered mind and body and find a way to reconnect with a wife and daughters who have no idea of the ordeals he has been through.