I got invited to join a book group last month: my friend Tiffany sent her book-loving girlfriends an invitation to read Little Women and then come to a cool Wallingford coffeehouse this past Monday to discuss it. Seven of us showed up–and we had a rolicking, thoughtful, and thought-provoking discussion of Louisa May Alcott’s classic novel.
There are books that stun me with the beauty of their writing or with the cleverness of their plots or with the cohesiveness of their storylines. Those books make me want to be a better writer.
This was not that book. It did not make me want to be a better writer.
It made me want to be a better person.
As a writer, I know that no one could write a book like this today. It would come off as preachy, moralistic, didactic–all those things that reviewers eschew. But as a person, I am grateful such books have been written, grateful this book was written.
I learned much about my own motives for writing and my own fears of failing (failing God, failing my family and friends, failing myself, failing my readers) as I read about Jo’s struggles to find her voice.
I learned about my own lack of self-control when I am angry and desired to be more like Marmee (I’ve begun pursing my lips like she does, to bite back the angry words that are all too often on the tip of my tongue).
I learned about gratitude and patience and contentment as I watched Meg and Beth and Amy battle their particular demons and emerge, eventually, triumphant.
The goodness, patience, contentment, and all around maturity of these girls (and of their mother, especially) as they grow from children to women is what I aspire to.
I wanted to take the wisdom of this book and inject it straight into my heart.
I wholeheartedly agree, Kimberlee! Indeed, some of my favorite nuggets of wisdom from the book come straight from Marmee’s mouth, and inspire me to be a better person:
Of sin: “Watch and pray, dear, never get tired of trying, and never think it is impossible to conquer your fault…. Remember this day and resolve with all your soul that you will never know another like it. Jo dear, we all have our temptations, some far greater than yours, and it often takes us all our lives to conquer them.”
Of work: “Let me advise you to take up your little burdens again; for though they seem heavy sometimes, they are good for us and lighten as we learn to carry them.”
Of marriage: “Then Father came to the rescue, quietly managed everything, and made himself so helpful that I saw my mistake, and never have been able to get on without him since. That is the secret of our home happiness. We each do our part alone in many things, but at home we work together, always.”
And, my favorite:
Of advice: “I seldom give advice unless I’ve proved its practicability.”
Speaking of good books, I just finished reading The Enchanted Castle by E. Nesbit. I’m stunned by the magic of her writing, and the magic of the story that permeates the children’s real lives. It reminded me that when I was a child magic permeated my life too–both when I lived in the city near the zoo when the animals were a constant source of wonder to me, and when we lived in the country when the woods and fields often seemed alive with invisible creatures that were sometimes scary but sometimes simply wondrous.
Now I’m reading When You Reach Me and I’m looking forward to blogging about it with Allyson–and with you too, as you chime in! It too is a book that is permeated with fantasy elements–or are they science fiction elements? In any case, it’s a book that’s currently fascinating me!
Meg, I’ve not read THE ENCHANTED CASTLE, though I’ve read many other E. Nesbit books. Thanks for the recommendation. I look forward to enjoying it!