Through no fault of her own, Louisa May Alcott is mainly remembered for a book which she despised, as much as she loathed the celebrity it brought her: Little Women. Sales in the millions may be all very well, but Louisa May was remarkable for other reasons. Now, Martha Saxon has written the first modern biography of the ambivalent rebel and irreverent feminist who became our most popular author, in spite of herself.
Louisa May Alcott's story of the March family is really the story of the Alcotts -- and the truth is far different from the author's often syrupy fantasy. Her father, Bronson, let his wife and daughters suffer while he philosophized. He did not believe in working for wages but he was perfectly willing to have his wife and daughters do it for him. It was Louisa's pen that would eventually save them all from starvation, but at great cost to her own health and happiness. Outwardly a self-sacrificing, if slightly eccentric, New England spinster, Louisa May Alcott lived a rich inner life that enabled her to deal with her father's indifference and to create, under a pseudonym, heroines who smoked hashish and exacted vengeance against uncaring males.
Martha Saxton has also written an account of a special time and place: New England in its flowering. Here is Boston in the midst of antislavery riots. Here are Hawthorne, Emerson, and Thoreau (whom Louisa May secretly loved), the literary greats of a Concord that sometimes sounds like a village out of Chekov. Or characters such as the Reverend Theodore Parker, who liked to think of himself as the most unpopular man in America; Ellery Channing, whom Louisa May described as a "mood once claiming to be a man"; and the weird crew of ascetics who populated that ship of fools known as the utopian colony of Fruitlands.
But most of all, this is the story of the curious, contentious, and ever unwilling bond between Louisa May and Bronson Alcott--a bond so powerful that they would even die within two days of each other.
So the first time I read Martha Saxton's 1977 Louisa May Alcott: a Modern Biography (in December 2012 and in one mega and continuous reading session) I failed to post a review. And this was mostly because I was unable at that time to verbally (and indeed to and for me reasonably enough) express how much reading Louisa May Alcott: a Modern Biography had made me actively and vehemently despise Louisa May Alcott's father Bronson Alcott. For while Bronson Alcott might in fact be an individual whose transcendentalism and liberal views on education I have always much respected (especially since for the 19th century, his educational reform ideas are indeed delightfully modern and student-friendly), the Alcott family life information and details presented by Martha Saxton in Louisa May Alcott: a Modern Biography (and in particular regarding the Alcotts' life at Fruitlands) also clearly and decidedly show that Bronson Alcott obviously was a total and utter failure as a husband and as a father, that Bronson Alcott was someone who seemingly let his children starve or more to the point, was totally willing and able to let his family suffer poverty and food insecurity rather than to in even a small way compromise his so-called ideals and beliefs, who strongly and adamantly believed that making money, that working for wages was somehow degrading and beneath him but who also and of course expected both his wife and his daughters to provide for him and the family (but yes and infuriatingly, Bronson Alcott also never ceased to be critical of his daughter's, of Louisa's writing, basically often letting her know in no uncertain terms that he firmly believed that she was selling herself, even as he, as Bronson expected and demanded Louisa's financial support).
And while I do agree with those reviewers who point out that Louisa May Alcott: a Modern Biography does at times present just a bit too much dramatics and equally too much of author Martha Saxton injecting her own philosophies into her featured text (and at the expense of providing a straight Louisa May Alcott biography) and that yes, sometimes the obvious hatred Martha Saxton experiences and feels for Bronson Alcott kind of majorly seems to overtake everything, I still have for the most part very much enjoyed reading Louisa May Alcott: a Modern Biography and have found it also a very intensely enlightening and educational reading experience that I for one am glad not to have missed. Because yes indeed, Louisa May Alcott: a Modern Biography was actually the very first Louisa May Alcott biography I read which in fact and in my opinion looks at Louisa May Alcott's family and especially at her father, at Bronson Alcott, critically and unflatteringly (and as such and happily very much unlike earlier Louisa May Alcott biographies such as for example Cornelia Meigs' 1933 Invincible Louisa where Bronosn Alcott is generally still placed very much on an unassailable lauding pedestal, which I for one and after having read Louisa May Alcott: a Modern Biography and also checking online certainly do not think he in any way even remotely deserves).
I borrowed this to write a paper on L.M. Alcott for Children's Lit and was supposed to be skimming through it to find relevant info for my paper but found it too interesting and ended up reading the whole thing. M. Saxton has a very dramatic style, she makes all these dark hints and wild claims like "Little Women was a regression for Louisa as an artist and as a woman!" or "Louisa felt x, Louisa thought y" but as she doesn't include in-text references I often found myself wondering how much was fact and how much was Saxton's personal opinions/suppositions. Still. A really good read. As with L.M. Montgomery's journals, I often found myself feeling so sorry for Louisa, who just was not cut out to fit her society's ideals of womanhood, and whose father was such an annoying fruitcake! I seriously wanted to give him a good smack and tell him to wake up to himself, get off his backside and start supporting his family. 'Morally opposed' to working for a living, indeed!
Hallelujah, praise be, I have finally finished reading this biography at 1.18am. If ever you've wondered why there hasn't been a more modern, modern biography on Louisa May Alcott since 1978 it's because this is the only biography you'll ever need. So complete and concise is this, there is nothing more to add. A tad tedious (more my fault than anything) at times but at all times, Martha Saxton is able to take the well documented information and transform it into objective (with a twist of wonderful seventies feminism) critique. Saxton also has a great understanding of Louisa's place in the world at this time and this is what makes this a three star for me. My favourite chuckle was Louisa's description of Dickens and the most heart breaking was the death of her slightly spoilt younger sister. The most interesting insight is the varied people the May family came into contact with and if you're studying the history of religion, this may be of benefit to you. There's a lot in this biography and for me, the first half of the book could have been written in one chapter as its only when Louisa starts her published life, it gauges my interest.
A portrait of Louisa and her sisters you're not likely to forget. Trust me, these are not "Marmee's girls." More darkness than we'd like surrounds their struggles--to be frank, I think a word of caution is in order. Martha Saxton's slant on Louisa's life, while moving and seemingly spot-on for the most part, comes across a bit overly dramatic, almost macabre at times. Hard to explain. An intriguing read -- I'm just not sure she's a biographer you want to give yourself (and your cherished subject matter) over to completely.
To all Louisa May Alcott fans who loved this work, this biography explores his life and times in full detail. This sheds insight on what kind of person she was back then. There's also a 2006 updated version in paperback.
Interesting in depth look at Louisa May Alcott's life and times. Women's issues at the time as well as descriptions of Emerson and Thoreau are also included. Lots of quotes from letters and diaries.
Questa biografia di Louisa May Alcott, pubblicata da Martha Saxton nel 1977, viene ora ottimamente tradotta in italiano da Daniela Daniele e pubblicata dalla casa editrice Jo March (come poteva essere altrimenti?). Devo dire che leggerla non è stato facile perché mi sono resa conto che l’immagine popolare dell’autrice di Piccole donne ha poco a che vedere con le caratteristiche, la personalità e le esperienze di vita di Alcott. L’idealizzazione di una vita familiare affettuosa, anche se modesta, si scontra con la vera e propria miseria e gli stenti che contraddistinsero l’infanzia e la giovinezza della scrittrice, tutta tesa da allora in poi a farsi strada da sola (e tra mille delusioni, prima di avere successo) con l’unico scopo di guadagnare denaro che permettesse ai genitori ed alle sorelle di sopravvivere e di far fronte alla montagna di debiti che il padre Bronson, idealista trascendentalista americano, aveva contratto negli anni. Accanto a Piccole donne ed ai vari titoli della saga di Jo March, poi, convivono molti scritti “minori”, spesso pubblicati sotto pseudonimo, in cui Alcott esprime sentimenti più violenti e lugubri, annoverabili nello stile gotico. Ed ancora, pochi sanno che l’autrice di uno dei più celebrati romanzi della letteratura americana fu per lungo tempo malata (non si era mai ripresa dal trauma e dalle infezioni contratte nel breve periodo in cui lavoro come infermiera in un ospedale da campo della guerra civile a Washington), afflitta da crisi violentissime che la lasciavano indebolita e incapace di muoversi e di scrivere per settimane intere. Fino a quando, appena due giorni dopo la morte del padre, all’età di soli 53 anni anche lei si spegneva, da sola, stroncata dall’incessante tortura del suo organismo intossicato di oppio e laudano.
An excellent read on many counts. It gives us an idea of life in Victorian America in New England and particularly the growth of Boston. It gives us a peek into the abolitionist and suffragette movements in New England. It paints a vivid portrait of the Alcott family. And brilliantly sketches Louisa M Alcott - her nature, struggles, fears, relationships, health. Enjoyed it very much.
Very detailed. Going back to her grandparents. She had anything but a "Little Women" upbringing and family. Amazed to know how much she didn't like "Little Women", but it brought in needed income. It was a long-read, but still interesting. This is an old book (1977, I think) that's been on my bookshelf for many years to read. Glad I did, but I had to plow through.
A fascinating and well researched look into the transcendental period of New England history. There was much more than just a biography on Alcott. It contained much information on her mother and father and how they were shaped by the trancendants of the day. They were well acquainted with Thoreau, Emerson, and Hawthorne which gave an interesting insight into their lives as well.
I loved Little Women as a girl, and I think it's best I didn't try to read this book when I was much younger (it was gifted to me and some years later I got rid of it because I wasn't reading much non-fiction outside of school at the time, only to later re-buy it when I became interested), because it certainly puts the novel in a different light. I don't know if I feel certain Saxton is 100% right in all her conclusions about Louisa's life, but she certainly presents some pretty compelling evidence towards Louisa feeling unsatisfied and joyless in writing Little Women and most of her more popular/palatable works. It's tough to read about, as is Louisa's physical suffering from mercury poisoning, her father's narcissism and her mother's unhappiness. But this book is engagingly written and I had no trouble flying through it. There is something cathartic about angry 70s feminism railing against the roles the Victorians proscribed for women (the rampant gender essentialism, YEESH!). I'm really glad I finally read this, probably 20+ years after it was first given to me.
By half-way through this biography, I was frustrated that the book had yet to really focus on Alcott herself. The first half of the book is really a biography of Bronson Alcott and a portrait of the family which had such a profound influence on L. M. Alcott. Saxton seems to feel that this father-daughter (or family-daughter) relationship is of such overwhelming importance to who Alcott became that she allows it to completely dominate the biography. It was hard while reading not to feel that Alcott herself becomes a side-story in her own biography, with the story of who she is and what she accomplished taking up only half the book. I can not deny that her family was her major motivation and influence in life, but I think that more balance could have been created since Alcott herself is supposed to be the main subject of the biography.
I knew this book was going to be different, and some of the review here told me it was going to be controversial. However, I was not prepared for it to be blatantly dishonest.
"Beth dies of a wasting disease, so popular with sentimental Victorians."
Beth dies of complications due to Scarlet Fever, not TB. If you have to lie to support your point, is it truly a point worth supporting? There are other falsehoods, but this was one of the both more obvious and more egregious. Being skeptical about the author's goal or intentions is one thing, but life is too short to spend time reading a book where you don't know how much is the author's projections or the author's fancy, or actual fact.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
La biografia è molto documentata e ben scritta, ma la vicenda degli Alcott è davvero troppo deprimente, e la parte riservata alla famiglia è troppo lunga e ingombrante.
Mi ha scatenato un odio feroce verso quel buono a nulla del padre di Louisa, ed è insopportabile vedere quanto lei e tutti gli altri fossero intrappolati nella ridicola e opprimente morale vittoriana.
È ancora più indigesto aver compreso che lo zuccheroso e illeggibile "Piccole donne" è un ritratto fasullo ed edulcorato della famiglia disfunzionale di Louisa.
Una famiglia schiava delle illusioni utopiche e dell'incapacità del padre, che scaricava le responsabilità sulle donne, ma sempre demonizzandole e sminuendole proprio perché donne, anche quando Louisa era l'unica fonte di reddito della famiglia.
For lack of more formal phrasing... THE MOST TEDIOUS, BORING, DRAGGED-OUT BOOK I HAVE EVER READ. If you're lucky enough not to have read this book thus far in your life, PLEASE. Do me, and yourself, a favor, and spare yourself some misery and wasted time. If you're fool enough not to heed this warning :/ ... Then find out for yourself the incessant benevolence of its scholastic insipidity. As you can see, I didn't even rate it one star for “didn't like”. It doesn't deserve that most glorious, unattainable praise. Consider its ratings... In the far, faraway negatives. The sole reason I picked it up at all is because I needed to read a biography for school, and since I love Louisa May Alcott’s books, I thought I might like to learn more about her. In the end, I profited nothing but knowledge of the blithering inanity books are capable of... Apparently Alcott’s life does not nearly parallel with her actual writing... Or if you read this book, the author (too unworthy to be named! :) ) certainly seems to try to trick you into believing so, with the mindless prattling of her own creation!
Thank you for listening to my ramblings (if you got this far! :) ). Trust me, listening to hers is much harder! And please... For your own sake. Don't read. :) I will never read this book again... Or, for the life of me, will tirelessly toil to avoid it. A strenuous and frazzle-inducing process, reading this is, if I do say so myself.
This was a surprisingly good read, but didn't earn a higher score because of the author's relentlessly feminist emphasis... which began to irritate me, EVEN though I am (& always have been) a big, proud feminist. Louisa was too, and sadly for her lived in New England in the mid-1800s when most women led frustratingly restricted lives revolving almost wholly around 'serving' either a husband/children or aging parents/siblings, or both. She never married but worked like a navy at writing her famous novels in order to financially support her fey, irresponsible father (deep 'thinker' Bronson Alcott) and her resourceful, responsible mother.
Louisa worked till the end of her life for the emancipation of women, and herself was a wonderful example of someone who broke out of society's approved female mold--she was one of the early American nurses, during the Civil War, and regularly lived on her own in Boston (when her family could spare her), dressed sensibly (not always easy in the era of corsets & bustles), and achieved and maintained great fame at a time when celebrity female writers were few.
This biog is definitely illuminating and informative, but I wish Saxton had toned down the rhetoric a few notches. To be reminded over & over how repressed this determined & well-rounded woman was by 21st century standards got pretty boring.
This biography, actually about the entire Alcott family, draws extensively from their journals, revealing details about their relationships with one another as well as numerous well-known novelists, transcendentalists, abolitionists, and suffragettes of the era. The journals effectively communicate the complexity of the Alcotts, whose closeness and exclusivity led to much friction and unhappiness. The author quotes from and thoroughly analyzes all of Louisa’s novels, and the struggle to reconcile her feminist side with the idealized woman she was raised to believe in. Her book plots and characters were also heavily influenced by her sense that it was her duty to provide for the entire family.
I am typically intrigued and entertained by reading about transcendentalism, but I was saddened by the guilt Bronson Alcott instilled in his family to ensure that his inflated ego became everyone’s priority. This resulted in poor mental and physical health for most of them, especially Louisa. I’ve concluded that being independently wealthy, and preferable single, should be a prerequisite for becoming a transcendentalist. When reading about this region and time, I am always struck by how many brilliant people lived there and knew each other.
After visiting the Orchard House and Fruitlands this summer, I spent some time reading up on the Alcotts. I started with this bio because it was a little more liberal than I thought I was going to like, so of the two biographies I got, I wanted to end on a high note. I was pleased to read in the intro that Saxton looks at the book now as being a bit brash--that softened me to her arguments. Overall, it was interesting but I thought it was fairly presumptuous about Louisa's personal thoughts.