The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie

by Wendy McClure

Summary:
For anyone who has ever wanted to step into the world of a favorite book, here is a pioneer pilgrimage, a tribute to Laura Ingalls Wilder, and a hilarious account of butter-churning obsession.

Wendy McClure is on a quest to find the world of beloved Little House on the Prairie author Laura Ingalls Wilder-a fantastic realm of fiction, history, and places she's never been to, yet somehow knows by heart. She retraces the pioneer journey of the Ingalls family-

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, History, Travel, Biography, Biography Memoir, Books About Books

336 pages, Hardcover

First published April 1, 2011

About the author

Wendy McClure is an author and a children’s book editor.

Reviews

[Sheri · Rating 3 out of 5]

An amalgamation of both a travelogue and an exploration of the personal connections felt with Laura through the Little House books and the television show. McClure blends both into an enlightening journey that both fulfills and disappoints for author and reader. Still, I found it a worthwhile read that did prompt me to consider my own interest in Laura and the Little House world.

[Hannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a book clearly destined to be picked up by me, because I too consider myself one of the "Laura" tribe. I loved the LHotP books growing up, and watched the TV show every week. Even today, I still do a re-read at Christmastime of all the Christmas chapters in every book (tin cup, candy stick and a penny anyone?). I try to re-read my favorite: The Long Winter every 2 or 3 years to remind myself that my life isn't so hard after all (and even if it was, my Christmas turkey will still surely come by spring). Occasionally, my daughter and I will do this weird thing where we imagine WWMD ( What Would Ma Do ) whenever we watch something *questionable* on TV. Ma Ingalls, like Jesus, has a very positive influence on our TV watching habits. (For the record, she would not approve of the "Real Housewives of__"). On another quirky side note, we also like to imagine what Ma would like to have for the perfect Christmas present. I'm convinced that nothing fancy or ostentatious would please her. Therefore, I would love to give her my Pampered Chef Potato and Carrot Peeler. She would ROCK and ROLL in the sod house with one of those gadgets! And yes, Laura comes in for her share of largesse in our household as well (we love to image what she would think of Wii Bowling, McDonalds french fries and Harry Potter).

I guess what I'm building up to with this TMI is that I'm a certified, calico card carrying member of the Little House geek club. And darn-tooting proud of it. So when I saw this book at my local Borders, I sat down and read the first chapter inside the store, and I knew I was going to love it based on how many times I snorted and laughed out loud among strangers (before this, only Bill Bryson could lay claim to that feat). Rushing home, I went to my local library, where I waited through a hold list of 7 other die-hard fans to get my hands on this to see if it lived up to Chapter One.

Dear reader, I'm afraid it didn't, although there is much to enjoy in the first 100 pages. McClure's scattered observations about identifying so closely with Laura and her world do have an appeal, and some of her anecdotes about her feelings for Laura are witty and spot on. Real fans will be able to see themselves in some of her experiences, and I sure do envy her for making the pilgrimage to all the holy sites of Laura-ism. Unfortunately, McClure's brand of humor begins to fall flat after page 120, and a snide, judgemental voice begins to emerge from what was previously a light-hearted narrative. In slamming other fans that she meets along her journey for their faith, their clothing, their ideology (and even their love for the TV show over the books), McClure morphs into the very judgmental, bigoted person she is trying so sarcastically to put down. Otherwise, when she wasn't puffing herself up at the expense of others, I did enjoy reading about all the sites and the events and things a fan could see and do.

I wouldn't recommend this book for people who have only a passing interest in the Little House world. I can't see that they'd get much out of this, since the anecdotes are very book/TV specific. In addition, this book suffered from a lack of photos to shore up the narrative. I highly recommend having at your side as a companion book:

McClure covered, almost verbatim, all the places in this book and it was great to have a visual reference to what she was discussing.

Of course, I had this reference book in my bookshelves already, along with over 60% the books in the selected bibliography at the back of the book. 'Cause I'm a Little House geek fan, in case you didn't know.

[Laura · Rating 2 out of 5]

The author claims to be a huge, obsessed Laura Ingalls Wilder (LIW) fan, I claim that I make, too. Because of her claim, I thought that I would really enjoy reading this book. How wrong I was.

In the beginning of the book, the author comes off as rather stupid to me. Her constant shocking revelations about what happened and, more importantly, what didn't happen, were old news and made her seem like a newbie LIW researcher. When she finally got past the "I can't believe it didn't happen exactly how it was in the books" stage, she launched into a self-centered, whiny exploration of various LIW historical sites. At this point I do have to give her credit: she managed to get to all the Little House sites, which is something that I'm not interested in doing.* Along the way, the narrative is jumpy, self-congratulatory, and annoying. As the author strives to do all things Laura, she shows us all that she's a Nellie.

The best part of the book was the selected bibliography, which listed a few books that I have not already read. However, I wish the author had included a full bibliography, because she mentioned some books in the text that I was interested in reading. In lieu of a full bibliography, an index would have been nice.

If you are a true LIW fan, do yourself a favor and skip this book. Read one of the many better-researched and more comprehensive biographies of LIW. This book is an autobiography of a period in Wendy McClure's life, it is not a LIW biography. This book is better suited for someone who read the Little House books as a kid and then didn't think about them again.

• Full disclosure: I have been to two Little House sites. I've been to DeSmet, SD, which I consider to be the most significant location from the books series. And I've been to Burr Oak, IA, which is completely absent from the book series. The only other Little House site that I want to go to is Mansfield, MO, the place where LIW eventually settled and the place that hold the most LIW's possessions.

[Jess the Shelf-Declared Bibliophile · Rating 2 out of 5]

While I share the author's love for Laura Ingalls Wilder's novels, for some reason I just could not connect with this book. The road trips, the recipes, the butter churn all sounded fun, but I still dragged reading about them.

[Bridget · Rating 1 out of 5]

The thing about a book like this - a book about a journey through some topic or other where the author's presence is overt - is that the author has to be likeable. Otherwise, it's like being stuck with a tour guide whose voice is kind of annoying and half the things she says aren't interesting and maybe she's a low-talker sometimes and at the end of the tour you're just glad to be DONE.

Unfortunately, that's how this book was for me. From almost the very beginning, it was the weirdest thing: I didn't like the author. The things she said, the way she said them, the little details of her life that she chose to bring into the story - ugh, I just did not want to spend 350 pages with this person, but there I was, reading The Wilder Life.

And in the end, I didn't even feel bad for not liking the author as she presents herself in the book, because you know what? The author doesn't like anyone in her own book! She is snide and condescending to everyone she comes across - but don't worry, it's only behind their backs, in the pages of this book, which will unfortunately be read by a lot of people.

You see, in McClure's published opinion, really earnest zealots of the Little House on the Prairie books (meaning anyone more interested in the series than the author herself, of course) are too weird. Those who aren't interested at all must have had crappy childhoods. Fans of the TV show: oh, that is SO lowbrow, the NERVE. People who have children, people who believe in emergency preparedness, people who dress up like pioneers for fun when visiting Laura Ingalls historic sites = WEIRDOS. Only the author, her precious long-suffering boyfriend, and a couple of college friends are in that special club of people who are not mocked in this book. (And also, inexplicably, this one lady at a gift shop named Barbara Walker. Good for her.)

It's sad, too, because I was really excited to go on a fun, informative romp through the books that had a great influence on me in childhood. I read the Little House on the Prairie books so many times as a young girl that it's almost as if the landscape is still there in my imagination, just as it looked twenty years ago, waiting to be populated by Laura and friends the moment I pick up one of the books to read it again.

Instead, I felt like my soft-edged, glowing, skipping-through-the-wildflowers memories of everything Laura Ingalls were trotted out by this book and shoved around roughly for a while, but in a lazy, half-hearted manner, and then left by the side of the road when the author got tired of it.

Because seriously, the author doesn't even bother concealing how blase she got about this whole Laura Ingalls Wilder thing (about which she was writing a book, you may recall). There were multiple times in the book where someone at a Laura-related site would ask her, "would you like to see more," or "would you like to stay longer," or "would you like to drive 15 minutes out of your way to..." and the author's answer was, "meh, no thanks. I'm too tired/hungry/bored."

And you can't even imagine how disorganized this book is. It seems to me that the way to do it would be to have a chapter for each book in the series, or sections devoted to recipes she tried, and then sites she visited, and then studies of the lifestyle, or SOMETHING. Instead, there is no clear method or beginning or end or arc to any of the chapters, so it goes something like: "I thought about trying a recipe, and then I read on the internet for a while about butter churns, and then I drove to this one site, and then I talked with this girl who wrote a book about it a long time ago, and then I decided I never wanted to have children." What the?!?

In conclusion, the only parts of this book that I liked were when she visited the site of Farmer Boy (and even then, she couldn't resist a sneer about how that was her least favorite book in the series); and when I finally, after all these years, got a slight idea of what the heck a slough is.

I cannot think of a reason anyone should ever read this book. Even if you're a fan of the Little House on the Prairie books. Heck, ESPECIALLY if you're a fan of the Little House on the Prairie books.

[Manybooks · Rating 1 out of 5]

So yes, I did actually try to first read Wendy McClure’s 2011 memoir The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie back in 2013 as a public library book. And well, I only got to around page 150 or so before giving up my perusal in absolute frustration and annoyance (and for two main and in my opinion also very acceptable and necessary reasons). For one, The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie was rapidly becoming due, there was an extremely long waiting list for it, and honestly, I was just not AT ALL sufficiently textually interested to put myself back on the library waiting list after having returned The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie. And for two and much more problematically, I was equally getting really and massively furious and frustrated with and also hugely sick and tired of Wendy McClure as an author and was therefore also beginning to utterly despise both McClure’s writing style and her presented attitudes to such an extent that continuing on, that to keep reading The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie was really not an acceptable option for me.

And yes indeed, it also has not been an option this time around either to try to reread and actually manage to finish The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie. For the author’s arrogance and the my way or the proverbial highway kind of approach towards everything Laura Ingalls Wilder and especially the often nasty and snarky put-downs of in particular fans of the Little House on the Prairie television series which Wendy McClure’s featured text does tend to consistently and annoyingly present (and that somehow only she, that only Wendy McClure herself is supposedly entitled to be a true fan and to also write about being a true fan of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her penmanship), yes, this certainly has not only totally destroyed any potential personal reading pleasure with regard to The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie, it also in my humble opinion totally justifies me abandoning this book once and for all, it totally justifies me not deciding to finish with The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie and to only consider but a one star ranking.

[Traci · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm having a hard time knowing how many stars this one deserves. It's in part a book about the relationship she feels various people have with the Little House books as a type of social phenomenon, part description of places you can go visit if you're interested in visiting Little House related sites, and part Wendy McClure's boring too-old-for-a-quarter-life-crisis-but-too-young-for-a-midlife-crisis crisis.

When she gets out of the way and talks about book Laura versus real Laura or the various Little House sites it's a very interesting book. When she gets in the way, though, it's painfully slow. You get the feeling throughout the book that she's trying to be cooler than the obsession she actually has. She doesn't want to be the cliche, so instead she's half-in and half-out and a real boring stick in the mud. You can tell she looks down on the people who dress up in period clothing, but she buys 6 bonnets at museum shops (but won't wear them). She won't participate in some of the hands on crafts. She continually refuses to see one thing or another on the trips, as if that in some way puts her above the 'fan boy' cliche she seems desperate to avoid. But instead what you end up with is following along a real downer on what could be a fun playful journey!

She tries to make it all deeper--there's a lot of discussion of being with Laura, being in Laura World, searching for something and not finding it...that feels forced, silly, and annoying. The standard mid-30s-women-with-no-kids-looking-for-deeper-meaning navel gazing that I find so tiresome. In the last chapter she tries to tie all of the 'searching' going on with an explanation that her mother had died shortly before her obsession began. I think it's all a futile effort, though, to make her relationship with the books more cerebral and less cliche than the other travelers she encounters.

I discovered last night that a few months before this book was published another book with a very similar premise was published--I'm curious if that one would have been a more enjoyable read.

Ignoring her own narrative, the book was interesting enough to prompt me to want to reread the Little House books (which I liked as a kid but never enough to actually read all of them) and plan for the day when I can take Ellie on a similar trip. But unlike with McClure, our trip into Laura World will be fun.

(As a side note, after thinking about it more I just am so bummed for her. Putting down the book was like walking away from lunch with a severely depressed friend. I'm glad it's over, but her sadness has now rubbed off on me and will be a dark cloud over my day. Her proudly agnostic views seem to explain so perfectly this lost/sad/looking-for-something-Laura-could-never-provide feeling that pervades the whole book. It reminds me so much of a story an ICU nurse friend told me once. She was working with a patient who had tried to commit suicide and he was boasting that he doesn't believe in God or religion. She looked down at this man who was so lost he'd tried to take his own life and said "and how's that working out for you?" Which isn't to say that her encounter with the survivalist sect wouldn't have equally freaked me out or that the people who are so ready to impose a 'perfect Christianity' on the Ingalls are historically accurate, but when someone is that proudly agnostic and that very lost, it's hard not to wonder why they haven't connected the dots.)

[Wendy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Though I love @halfpintingalls and had a couple of nice virtual interactions with the author while she was working on the book, I put off reading this after some middling reviews from friends and acquaintances. I get how this is not for everyone, and most of the really negative reviews are from people who got the book expecting it to be something else and can't get over that it isn't the book they wanted to read. (Some people think it's for the Little House fanatic; others think it's for those who don't know Little House details. Some think it mentions the TV show too often and some think it disdains the TV show.)

This is the danger you face when your book, which should have a narrow audience, gets picked up more widely because of catchy subject matter. People read this who have probably never even heard of jezebel and wouldn't read it if they had.

I share the author's annoyance with people who don't read--and especially don't LOVE--books in the "right" way. And some of that spilled over into my reading of this book, of course. While we were mostly on the same page--we dwell with delight on the same phrases from the books--I always find it tiresome when people stop reading Little House, even stop thinking about Little House, after childhood. McClure's discoveries never happened for most of my book-loving friends because we never stopped reading and rereading and I am impatient with anyone who didn't read the Zochert biography as a child. But, of course, I am also impatient with people who I think take it all too far [read: further than I do], and, as the author explores, with people who ascribe philosophies and religious beliefs to the Ingalls family that aren't really supported by the books. (My favorite chapter is probably the one about the religious people at the homestead, though I have always known such people and wouldn't have been as startled by them, but then, I wouldn't have been as nice to them or about them, either.)

I haven't actually been to any Laura Ingalls Wilder homesites, always being afraid of what I know I would find there, preferring my own more obscure "homesites" for other books and authors and people. Those sort of stand in for what I wish I would find at Laura homesites.

[Jessica Knauss · Rating 5 out of 5]

I won an ARC of this book. Hooray!

Although I've gone on to do a lot more reading, I've always carried a little of Laura with me, in ways I never considered before I read The Wilder Life by Wendy McClure.

The book is a memoir of McClure's rediscovery of the series as an adult after a personal tragedy. She gets a obsessed with trying to somehow recapture that long-ago life in some way, any way she can. In the process she goes on an epic journey, always learning and developing insights along the way. No crazy idea, whether it's churning her own butter or camping on a farm in Illinois, fails to spark some kind of connection with the ever-expanding and lost world Laura writes about so lovingly. McClure masterfully sorts out her personal reactions to the book and compares "fact" with "fiction" to allow the reader to come to his/her own conclusions.

Topics addressed include:
• The hybrid nature of the books. Are they fiction? Are they autobiography? How can we reconcile the Laura we know from the books with the mysterious Laura who experienced all that and so much more?
• The people who know the books only through the TV series and how their expectations from the historical sites differ. Is the world of the TV series less valid than that of the books?
• The prototypes for ways of being feminine presented in the books. These are especially important to consider, as they influence girls at a formative moment in their development. Do you sympathize with Mary? With Nellie Oleson? Is Laura a "tomboy"? (I completely agree with McClure when she decides that Laura is not a tomboy, just a girl whose femininity encompasses an explorer's spirit and some rugged chores. We girls can do anything, like Laura!)
• The complicated political issues at stake in the West at the time, which is mostly played out when we discover that the Ingalls were one of many squatters on land that was clearly meant for Native Americans and only opened to homesteaders a few years after the Ingallses left.
• The views of Native Americans, which, whether positive or negative, are incomplete in the books, mainly because they're told from a child's perspective, and that child was never to experience Native American culture firsthand, even as an adult.
• The wide-ranging interpretations people put on the books, often to serve their own world views. The prevailing one is that the Ingalls' life was a "simple" one of self-sufficiency. As the homesteading issue shows, times were never "simpler," at least not in the last two millennia, and as McClure points out, the Ingalls relied on technology, like trains and conveniences like stores whenever they were available. Especially entertaining is the story about the serial killers who operated near the Little House on the Prairie -- were they more innocent times?
• The hotly contested role of Rose Wilder Lane in the creation of the books, and in her life in general.
• The way Farmer Boy fits or doesn't fit into the series.
• The way the series peters out, so disappointing for young readers, and so much more understandable for adults. By visiting some of Laura's home sites that don't appear in the children's series, McClure comes to a better understanding of where the story really goes.
• That incredible sense of identification readers seem to come away with so often. Is the reader actually Laura? Who is Laura, anyway?

Possibly the best feature of the Little House series is Laura Ingalls Wilder's talent for observation accompanied by wonder. McClure learned from the best. Her writing transmits a similar finely-observed reality colored with wonder and more often than not, joy. The book jacket claims that it's "hilarious," but my laughter was more about recognition: whenever she has a Laura geek moment or discusses the way the books impacted her as a child, I think, yes, I had exactly the same reaction myself. Of course, McClure is also a writer and an editor who studied in Iowa City, so we have more than one common frame of reference. But the beautiful writing and great research, executed under the aegis of unflagging enthusiasm, will pull you along, too.

And hooray for McClure's partner, Chris, who read the books for her sake, and had the good sense to wake up in the middle of a potentially deadly hail and thunderstorm in DeSmet, only to show concern for the crops. (Would the Ingalls ever see a wheat crop that didn't fail?)

I just happened to have "rediscovered" the Little House books at the end of 2010, when my mother mailed them to me in an effort to clear out the house. I hadn't even thought of looking at what Laura stuff there might be on the internet, and because this book includes so much information in such a fun way, now I never have to. The Wilder Life couldn't have come at a better time for me, and I think it's also appropriate for Americans in general as we face ever-worsening economic hardships. The Wilder Life reminds us all that normal people, like the Ingalls -- like us -- can make it work under the worst conditions.

[Colleen Mitchell · Rating 2 out of 5]

For me, there was a problem of expectation. Everything I'd read about this book talked about Wendy McClure's HI-larious experiences doing the things Laura and her family did in the Little House books. Yes, she grinds wheat to make bread and, yes, she buys a butter churn on ebay and makes butter. At one of the home sites, she half-heartedly twists ONE haystick. That's it folks! It's actually more of a travelogue as Wendy and her saint of a boyfriend (he puts up with a lot of crazy!) and various other friends go with her to visit the various places that were important in Laura's life. It is very funny. It does start off great. I related to her instantly and felt I'd met a kindred soul whose love of Laura matched my own. But, around the time they visited the farm for the homesteading weekend and basically fled in terror before a group of seeminly harmless "end timers," she started to bug me. From there on, it was a slog of criticisms, disappointments, mockery and ridicule. Her seemingly fabulous friends would say, "are you sure you don't want to stay?" "Don't you want to try that?" "Do you want to see the log cabin again?" In response, she left a day early, eschewed participation, said, "I've already seen it." Of course, in her murky explanation that this Laura obsession was all a response to her mother's death, we see that this was all fulfilling some kind of book proposal that, once on the roads of remote corners of the midwest, perhaps had lost its appeal.

Her research was impressive and I will definitely seek out the scholarly books she referred to. Having recently had the epiphany to use the internet to research Laura's life and been somewhat disconcerted by what I found, I appreciated Wendy's explanations and staunch belief in Laura and the Ingalls. Her writing is very lucid and I got a true sense of the home sites and museums...most of which I will never have the opportunity to visit.

I mostly believe that this is a problem of the publisher marketing a book incorrectly. Taken as what it is, a "blog" of sorts, it's a decent read.

[Gretchen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Omigod I'm old. And a geek. And this book fit very well with these two personal revelations. The author, a child of the seventies (like me!) was obsessed with the Little House series when she was younger. A personal tragedy starts her on a journey to find more about the series, and the real Wilder family. Doing this project in 2007 means she has access to that wonderful and terrible tool of the Internet. Soon she is traveling throughout the Midwest geeking out over objects from the past (learn to churn butter from the internet!) and drawing closer to her "Laura-world".

This book isn't for everyone. It has a Gen-x tone that will put off more earnest seekers. But I loved it. I loved that she filled in the blanks of What happened Next after the LH books. I loved that she brought up the controversies: TV Show or Books? Rose Wilder - author or helper? Books - sanitized or real?

I also loved the roadtrip aspect of the book. Contrasting what you expect to find when you visit a historical site, vs what you actually find, was a good way to think about your own aspirations. How much of our world is real, and how much is constructed from our memories?

Finally, I loved that this novel brought the LH books back to me. This was my favorite series as a child. But neither of my kids made it past Farmer Boy. I don't know it was because of timing (both were learning to read during the Harry Potter Craze). But I do worry that the series may not be as relevant today .... and that nostalgia also comes through as the author reflects on the books.

Highly recommended for anyone who spent childhood summers wearing a sunbonnet along with her Jessica McClintock prairie skirt, while wishing there was an actual creek to go explore.

[Melody Schwarting · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I was seven, my family moved to Wisconsin. The countryside near our suburban home came straight from a storybook. Giant red barns with silver silos towered over rolling green fields not far from our home, black and white cows (I had only seen brown cows), four distinct seasons. On a family vacation out west, we stopped at Plum Creek and Walnut Grove, and spent a day in DeSmet. A relic of our time there is a grainy photo of me in front of a field of wheat, smiling hugely without my two front teeth, in a homemade prairie dress with a yellow sunbonnet sheltering my pigtails.

On that fated Laura trip,* my most cherished souvenir was The World of Little House by Carolyn Strom Collins. I haven’t looked at it in years, so my memories are bathed in the halcyon glow of childhood readings. But, man, I loved that book. It had gorgeously detailed floorplans of all the Ingalls residences. Each chapter on each book had a different, adorable border. There were recipes, family trees, timelines, crafts...It really brought the series to life for me. I can close my eyes and picture the pages.


Wendy McClure runs the @HalfPintIngalls Twitter account

McClure revels in Laura and all of Laura-dom. The Wilder Life is not intimate, exactly. It’s like having a good, long conversation with a friend about something you both love, after you’ve caught up on the messy parts of each others’ lives. Her boyfriend, Chris, reminded me so much of my husband when he humors me on trips to my literary pilgrimage sites, like the ones we took to Beatrix Potter’s Hill Top Farm and Elizabeth Gaskell’s home in Manchester. (He recalls the food, mostly, with great fondness.) Chris’s enthusiasm for McClure’s obsession is a delightful portrayal of the supportive partner, someone who doesn’t roll their eyes at their beloved’s obsessions, but instead supports them healthily in what brings them joy. Especially when it includes a doughnut jar in the kitchen and double-fisting baked treats.

Laura Ingalls Wilder is not one of my great literary obsessions, but everything about her is bathed in a golden nostalgia that I enjoy. Tagging along with McClure on her season of Laura exploration was an unmitigated delight. She’s laugh-aloud funny, shows a deep knowledge of the books and the women behind them, and talked about all my favorite parts of the series. Reading the chapter about how she came to enjoy Farmer Boy more was particularly special. She also meditates on how her personal quest helped her through her mother’s death, and the ensuing rebuilding of her family, while refusing to offer a cute, pat answer to the big questions raised by her adventures.

Reading the negative reviews of this book, while having a gobsmackingly good time following McClure around, reminded me how much of the author’s voice becomes our own internal voices during the reading process. I went into this reading experience hopeful, happy, and ready to share that bibliomemoir magic I’ve found in other books. I was not disappointed. Evidently, other readers were disappointed, or were totally unfamiliar with the genre of bibliomemoir, or perhaps chose to dislike McClure because she’s the same type of Little House fan that they are. You don’t have to like McClure or this book, but when your review becomes a personal attack, you need to take a second and question if you’re getting in the way of your own reading experience. I’m not saying that this book is perfect and any dislike is unwarranted, but that many of the complaints (“self-centered,” “stupid”) stem from unfamiliarity with the genre of bibliomemoir, and others (“snide,” “judgmental,” labeling people as “weirdos”) did not reflect my reading experience at all. (Did they miss the parts where McClure admired the folks who dressed up, and wished she had a green delaine dress and straw bonnet so she could enter a hypothetical Ma look-alike contest? Yes, they did. Plus, McClure never calls anybody a weirdo in this book, to my knowledge.)

Some take umbrage with McClure’s “snide, judgmental” comments about the people she encountered. Honestly, nothing came across as snide or judgmental to me, even when McClure found herself in situations where she could have easily given in to prejudice. For example, she and her boyfriend wind up at a homesteading weekend among, surprise!, Christian survivalists. McClure came hoping to connect with “Laura World” recreationally, and wound up among people who were preparing themselves to live off-grid when disaster struck (*laughs in 2020*). Obviously, that’s a disconcerting situation, and what these folks said to her made her uncomfortable (she was being judged—her boyfriend lied about their marital status to avoid rocking the boat). While McClure could have made fun of the whole thing, she recounted her admiration for part of what these survivalists were doing, though she wished the group did not ask so much of certain members with health problems.

At the Missouri site, McClure meets a home school family, and makes it clear that she does not connect with the deep Christian faith that these families read into the books.** Yet, she does not belittle or ridicule them. She marvels that the books can mean so much to so many people in so many ways, and refers fondly to this family later in the book. After reading about people she met, mostly employees at the Laura shrines, I imagined myself visiting them and saying, “You’re the so-and-so from That Wilder Life?” Unfortunately, this book was published over a decade ago, and there is a global pandemic going on right now, so employees and sites have likely changed. I’d say most of the condescension other reviewers experienced was read into McClure’s account. As part of the group (evangelical Christian home schooler) she could have maligned, I’m pleased to say she did not malign us at all.

While the TV series isn't McClure's favorite, and not nostalgic for her at all, she evidently saw the whole thing as an adult, and takes it with a grain of salt and plenty of humor. She doesn't frown on the TV series fans, though she's not exactly one herself (she mentions purchasing a commemorative plate of Doc Baker). I never cottoned to the series myself, because it was so very different from the books, almost a different story with characters who shared names, hair colors, and nothing else--not even beards, Pa.

When it comes to something as inconsequential as a bibliomemoir written by a woman about her love for childhood books, you get to pick what offends you. McClure does not intend offense. At the end of the day, McClure looks for that spark of connection between her and other Laura Ingalls Wilder fans. For her, it’s not the Christian faith of the books (in the few places where it actually shows up) or the survivalism (the Ingalls weren’t exactly off-grid or totally self-sufficient), it’s the representations of girlhood (not tomboyhood! Laura was not a tomboy!), frontier life, and a world different from her own. That’s what drew me to the books, too, which might be why I found it so easy to connect with McClure through The Wilder Life.

*I broke my collarbone on that vacation, after the visits to Laura sites. A cabin we stayed in didn’t have railings on the upper bunk bed and I woke up on the floor in the middle of the night with piercing pain in my shoulder. The rest of the pictures from the trip feature me sporting a navy blue sling. Combined with my missing front teeth, I was not at the height of my childhood adorableness, but the incident made a memorable story. I have yet to meet someone else who broke a bone while sleeping.
**While I do have a book on the faith of Laura Ingalls Wilder checked out from the library, let me assure you, Christianity is just not in these books the way some evangelicals would have you think. Hymns are sung, the Bible is occasionally read and referenced, and church is infrequently attended. The revival service in DeSmet and pastor of that church are not presented with any form of admiration or attraction. Laura never talks about her own personal faith experience, or mentions her baptism or salvation. On the other hand, plenty of childhood rebellion is depicted, and the girls are not wholly obedient, which is sometimes a big no-no for Christian parents choosing media for their children, but is evidently okay when the little rebels wear prairie dresses and sing songs like “Lazy Lousy Lizzy Jane” “There Is a Happy Land.”

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

I agree with the other reviewer who called this an "odd duck of a book." From the start, I couldn't tell where it was going and still haven't figured it out. There were the expected introductory descriptions of the author's childhood love of the Little House books, her ability as an adult to retrace the exact steps to the exact shelf in the public library where the books were, the imaginary conversations she had as a child showing her friend Laura around in modern times, all of which were endearing (including using "Laura" as an adjective, e.g. the Laura books, the Laura this and that). Then there was butter churning and Long Winter bread-making, which didn't get as much treatment as expected (maybe because I've always been blown away by that bread and what it would mean to eat only that, and maybe a piece of potato, every day for months during snowstorms that lasted from September to May) and which also kind of came from nowhere in the earlier parts of the book.

I thought I had hit on some thematic organization toward the middle, where there was an enjoyable chapter on whether Laura was a tomboy and what it meant to be a Laura (free-spirited and independent) versus a Nellie Oleson (conventional and materialistic), and a chapter on the Homestead Act and other land issues in post-Civil War U.S. (Little Squatter on the Osage Diminished Reserve!). So I assumed that the chapters could stand alone as thematic essays if only I paid closer attention to their titles.

I was wrong, ultimately. The rest of the book was devoted to trips to the various Laura museums and historic sites in no particular order. There are descriptions of Laura pageants, sleeping in a converted covered wagon amidst an unexpected lightning storm in the middle of a prairie, and attending a homesteading weekend bonanza with some fundamentalists whose interest in homesteading was based on getting ready for the End Times (McClure did okay vis-a-vis my recent Goodreads rantings). McClure's boyfriend also came across very endearingly (for her sake, he voluntarily read all of the books and some supplemental writings, and his reaction to the lightning-in-covered-wagon-with-metal-frame was leaping up and shouting, "What about the crops?!").

Near the end of her Laura journey (and book), McClure's friend asked her if there was something she hoped to figure out through all this Laura-ness, and she replied that she thought so, and that that it had something to do with the recent loss of her mother. Then the lack of structure made perfect sense, as McClure seems to have written the book as the events happened chronologically, rather than making sense of it all and then using that resolution as a guidepost from the outset. The book would have read stronger that way, though there is something valuable and sincere in reading about her searching in a less filtered manner. Without more structure though, the book really reads as a bunch of anecdotes told by your friend who did all of these Laura things and who will gladly answer all of your questions without judging you -- that is to say, it's highly enjoyable. In other words, there was no way I wouldn't have read this book, and I'll probably read it again. It's also very comforting to know that there are people out there who are even more demented about their reading than I am (something a true and nonjudgmental bff understood when gifting me with this book -- thank you!!).

[kari · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was curious if this book would be interesting for those, like me, who have never read the Little House books. I attempted them both as a child and as an adult and never was able to make much progress before giving up. Maybe I don't find the romance in a family's continual hardships and dragging young children from place to place over and over. Having close family who grew up poor, with hand-me-down clothes, not enough to eat, getting nothing but an orange for Christmas, complete with using an outhouse and illness and family tragedy, I guess my own family stories were enough for me. Although I've enjoyed The Bears of Blue River and The Hoosier Schoolmaster which are both books about life on the frontier and the pioneer spirit.
This book kind of reads like one of those school reports of "what I did on my summer vacation" that goes on far too long and without a purpose. I felt like the last chapter when the author suddenly has this epiphany of what her search has been about when I understood what she was searching for before she started on her sojourn was very late in coming and seemed that the author didn't understand herself or her feelings at all.
The story kind of meanders and takes far too long to roll out. In honesty, this could have been a good short story in one of the women's magazines in which Laura Ingalls Wilder published articles. At every location of the "Laura story" we have to hear about all the other people who are there and the author's thoughts and feelings and then how her feelings disappoint her in the end. All of this, for me, didin't truly add up to much.
Having said that, again, maybe I'd have gotten more from it if I was a huge fan of the books, but I don't think so. I have to say that it just sort of sits there. I think it would have possibly worked better as journal or blog entries with far less "we stood there staring at the frozen lake" or "I wanted to feel Laura here but I didn't" or other bits of minutiae that s-l-o-w-e-d everything to a snail's pace.
So, if you're a big lover of the books, you might enjoy this one. If not, I'm not so sure you'll like it.

Thank you to Goodreads Giveaways.

[The Library Lady · Rating 2 out of 5]

At the end of this book a friend of McClure's notes to her that this journey into Wilder World is about her. So is this self-indulgent
book.

If you have read the Wilder books and most of the Wilder bios (and I read The First Four Years back when it was first published, so you can tell I've been reading them for decades!) there is little here that's new, aside from a snarky guided tour to the sites that will probably depress you. And she kind of snickers at Search For Laura Ingalls Wilder (and interviews Meribah Knight,who as a little girl was the star of that book) though I'd far rather read that again than ramble through McClure's work. I was especially irked by the drawn out story of the farm weekend teach in that turns out to be a batch of End Times types learning to survive after an apocalypse--it went on for too long after the apparent punch line.

Some snark on my part: I find it hard to believe (and I tweeted so at McClure) that in Chicago the sole place to find a basic staple of cooking, molasses, is at Whole Foods. I find the whole American Girl Place sequence to be self-indulgent and irrelevant. And I guess that she went to the store after "Samantha" had been discontinued, because how could anyone find "Felicity"'s colonial trappings more luxurious than Samantha's Gilded Age ruffles and furs?

P.S. As she mentions, Mankato,MN, so often mentioned in the TV mess "based" on the Little House books, was a place the Ingalls probably never visited. However, it IS the beloved setting of the Betsy-Tacy series by Maud Hart Lovelace, a fact (and perhaps a series) of which McClure appears to be unaware. I'd recommend that she read them, and if she wants to see a great example of an inside look at a beloved series, to hunt down a copy of the sadly OP The Betsy-Tacy Companion

[Jennifer · Rating 3 out of 5]

What I wanted from this book is not quite what I got, or what I was even expecting. I wanted McClure to throw herself into Laura Land (her words) as A.J. Jacobs did when he choose to immerse himself in the Bible for a who year and live by it, just to see what it was like. Instead, McClure just stands in Plum Creek for a few minutes and then moves on (and I mean that literally and figuritively).

At first, McClure *seems* like she is one of THOSE PEOPLE- people who are irrationally and irrevocably flat out PASSIONATE about a book they love. You know who they are. Hell, you're reading this review on Goodreads, so most likely you are one of them. I know I am. (Anne of Green Gables and Harry Potter, in case you're wondering. I can get pretty worked up about Laura too, though, if the occasional called for it.)

Somehow along the way though, McClure gets lost in what she was trying to say, what exactly this book was about. (Her connection to the Little House Books? Her unresolved issues with her mother's death? The fact she and her partner are choosing to remain childless? I really don't know.)

The book's not bad. It's okay. I liked it. I just wish I hadn't been seduced by the idea of the book enough to spend $14 on it rather than waiting to get it from the library.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love this book! I can so relate to so many of the authors thoughts, especially about relating Little House stories to my "real" life. I have my Little House Colorform set to prove my love. My sis and I were Mary and Laura for Halloween one year.

Unexpectedly, this book makes me very lonely for my mom. She read the series aloud to me as a child and I heard her reread it over the years to my siblings. I didn't commit the date of her death to my memory and I don't think about her on Mother's Day (Hallmark holiday!). But I know I could have given her this book and she would have enjoyed the author's observations as much as I am enjoying them.

It's definitely not for the casual fan. If you only watched the show, or only read the first book or two, then this isn't for you. It's for the fan that read them all, attempted the extra books, and is generally aware of some of the Rose/Laura authorship lore.

Now and then, it's overly long. Perhaps a bit TOO detailed. I mean, didn't finish On the Way Home and I didn't read Pioneer Girl for a reason! But the real fan, the one who understands "Laura World" will deal with those passages and still enjoy things.

[Juliana · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I was in third grade I borrowed a copy of Little House in the Big Woods at the school library. By some strange coincidence that same day my Mom had borrowed a copy of Little House on the Prairie for me at the county library. I was so surprised. I read both books quickly and became obsessed with the series and the idea of living the pioneer life. I wanted to grow my hair longer and wear long skirts and dresses just like Laura and her sisters. I would imagine riding a horse or driving a wagon on my way to school. My Barbies served as substitute Lauras, Marys and Nellys. While other girl's Barbies were trying out different fashions and driving their corvette, my Barbies were always striking out West in a covered wagon--which I was so excited to receive one year--a Jane West doll along with a plastic horse with actual covered wagon. My Barbies would set out across the backyard and make camp for the evening and live off land setting up to homestead when they reached a nice piece of level grass. The horror the day my father filled in the sprinkler run-off from our next door neighbors which was I was using as my Plum Creek.

Wendy McClure with her book the Wilder Life does a great job of capturing that little girl feelings for Laura and the Little House books as you follow along on her quest to discover more about Laura and the real-life she lived. She learns to churn butter, makes a hay stick and travels to different sites that the Ingalls and Wilders lived, visits museums, sees festivals, etc. You learn a little bit about Rose Wilder Lane--the controversy over whether she wrote the books or Laura did, and how the books are in the fiction section in the library. The editor in me would have liked some photos included in the book--her descriptions of photos aren't enough, but luckily they are all only an Internet click away. And it wouldn't have been all that bad if she would have included a recipe or two, surely permissions from some of the other books she mentioned could have been included. I did really enjoy the adventure with the extremist Christians on the Prairie. Her descriptions of Garth William's illustrations also makes me hope that someone will do a similar book on him. She also has some good comments on the difference between the book and TV fans. I was never a big fan of the television series--I just couldn't get over Little House in the rolling golden hills of California.

But overall, this is just the kind of memoir-project book I like. What do they call this genre? Maybe experiential memoir. Where the author sets out to relive, discover and learn, and you are along for the ride? There have always been books about a subject, but in the past decade or so it is as much about the author as it is about the subject. I think this genre could only come along in the post-blog Internet world--Goodreads has a good list for it called, "I Did Something For a Year and Wrote a Memoir about It." I blame it all on Under the Tuscan Sun--certainly not the first but one of the most successful that spawned more. Combine this type of book with a literary topic or books and you've sucked me right in. It allowed me a few moments to recollect on my own obsessions.

If you are a fan, you have your favorites--what are they? My favorite in the series were the two later books--Little Town in the Prairie and These Happy Golden Years. Little Town most likely because Nellie makes a grand reappearance. And Golden Years because who wouldn't want to be courted by sleigh or carriage drives at least once in her life? My least favorite was By the Shores of Silver Lake--I don't know why, that one I always had a hard time getting through.

[Kathryn · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I was a little girl, my mother gave me a copy of Little House in the Big Woods. I read it and fell in love with it, with Laura and the Ingalls family and their pioneer life. Mom then showed me a treasure - she had bought all of the books in the series (through These Happy Golden Years) for me and I could read them all right then. I tore through the rest of the books. I still have them - the covers have fallen off of most of them yet they have survived every time I have culled my book collection. Later on I read The First Four Years and Donald Zochert's biography. Later still I read some of the pamphlet-style booklets that tell what happened to others in De Smet and to Laura's sisters (mostly rather sad). I found out more about Laura in later life and about Rose and her influence on the books (also sad). I stopped wanting to find out more; I decided to leave the Little House books and my happy memories of reading about them as they were.

Then a friend told me about The Wilder Life. I lucked into getting an advance copy and from the first pages it was clear that if Wendy McClure and I ever met, we would jump up and down, squealing in our shared Laura and Little House fangirl love. Wendy (I'm going to call her Wendy, clearly we would be BFFs) continued past where I left off, reading the books and taking the trips that I would have loved as a girl.

In The Wilder Life she takes me (and all of us Laura lovers) back to Laura world (her term, and just where I felt I went when I read the books). She churns butter and makes the bread that sustained the Ingalls family through the Long Winter. She explores the good (the attraction of self-sufficiency, the old timey doodads, Laura's spirit) and bad (Ma's anti-Indian racism, the hints of Libertarianism) of the books. She discusses the many biographies of Laura and her family. She visits every one of Laura's homes - no mean feat as the Ingalls family moved often. And she does all of this because of and with a clear love for Laura and the books.

While I wouldn't want to do most of those things, I was very happy to go along with Wendy and see them through her eyes. Reading about Wendy's experiences and experiments felt like a modern-day trip to Laura world. If you grew up a huge fan of the Little House books, you'll love this book too.

[D.A. · Rating 5 out of 5]

What is that lost place Americans began to yearn for in the 1970s as we stumbled into the post-Vietnam, post-Watergate era? For many, The Little House on the Prairie--both the series of books by Laura Ingalls Wilder and the television show based upon the books--represented a simpler and therefore more desirable past. Wendy McClure explores the meaning of this cultural phenomenon by retracing the history of the books and the towns that inspired them. With her good-natured husband along for the adventure, McClure steps not into the past but into the various museums built to emulate the past, and the journey is funny, sad and touching. Probably more Little House trivia than someone unfamiliar with either the books or the adaptations of the books might find fascinating, but it's presented so generously that I quickly found myself caring much more about the lives of Rose Wilder and Laura Ingalls Wilder than I would have thought possible. This is because, at its heart, this book is not about the past but about the present, and the attempts to churn butter, braid haysticks and grind wheat to bake bread are warm reminders of how far we've come on the journey from the 19th century into the 21st. Highly recommended for both humor and humanity.

[Sherry · Rating 2 out of 5]

There are so many things that I could say about this book, but in brief it totally fell flat. It started out with some cute things and then the author's condescending attitude just cast a cloud on the whole book. This reminds me of the Julie and Julia story. A woman in her thirties trying to find meaning in her life through a person who lived long ago. Ultimately her snobbery is a turn off and not at all "hilarious" as some of the marketing led you to expect. It doesn't leave you with any of the feelings you get from the books. Which I think was what she was in search of? I think the whole book had a feeling of "where is this going" and in the end it doesn't have an answer except for a personal story about the death of her mother tacked on. As other reviewers advise, my time would have been better spent reading some real Laura Ingalls Wilder biographies if I want more Little House love in my life.

[Kathryn · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this.
McClure, a Little House fan in her youth, re-reads the books as an adult and then goes further - reading and researching Laura's life and visiting the different home sites. It was a fun armchair travel to places I'll likely never visit. The humor is balanced with introspection about her dive into "Laura World" without becoming overly psychological or academic.

[Kressel Housman · Rating 5 out of 5]

When it comes to the Little House series, I am pretty well-read. Aside from having read the series, I’ve read Little House in the Ozarks, the collection of Laura’s writings for the Missouri Ruralist and her travel journal, On the Way Home. I read William Holtz’s biography of her daughter Rose, The Ghost in the Little House, which argues that Rose actually ghost wrote the series, and I read Becoming Laura Ingalls Wilder, which rebuts that argument. I’ve read about the making of the TV show in the memoirs of three of its actresses: Laura/Melissa Gilbert, Nellie/Alison Arngrim, and Mary/Melissa Anderson. But this is the only book that I’ve ever read that was written entirely from the perspective of a fan. And I absolutely loved it.

Author Wendy McClure takes her fandom far beyond me. She learns how to churn butter and tours the country to see all the historic sites commemorating Laura. It’s an interesting travelogue any fan will love, but the best parts are when she talks about identifying with Laura. She quotes the parts of the books that moved her the most, and even if they’re not your particular favorites, as a reader, you’ll probably see yourself in parallel. I was amused, for example when Wendy said she imagined herself in the place of Lena, Laura’s cousin. I used to imagine myself in the place of Laura’s school friend, Christy Kennedy. She also said she had the recurring fantasy that Laura was her friend in her own life, and it was her job to show Laura around the modern world. I never had that one, but Wendy spoke to many other fans in her travels, and apparently, it’s quite common.

For any fan of the series, this book is like comfort food. You can crawl under your covers with it and imagine you’re all warm and cozy in your log cabin, and as Pa plays on the fiddle, you realize, “This is now. It could never be a long time ago.”

[Sara · Rating 1 out of 5]

“Little House on the Prairie” has long been considered one of the classics of children’s literature, and even today, amid the onslaught of fantasy and horror being published for young adults, is still held in high regard. Wendy McClure, a children’s book editor, chronicles her adventures in “Laura World” as she researches Wilder’s life, unravels the fiction from the fact in the stories, and makes multiple road trips to sites mentioned in the books. Along the way, she educates her boyfriend, Chris, in the ways of Little House, and he becomes her constant companion on trips to working farms, museums, historic monuments, and more. McClure proceeds somewhat chronologically through the series, beginning with explorations of “Little House in the Big Woods,” and attempting to match events in the story to the historical timeline. She finds many inconsistencies along the way, which becomes one of the main points of the book — determining the line between fiction and nonfiction, and deciding how much that influences her belief in and interaction with the stories.

Although I would consider myself a fan of the Little House books, I found myself growing tired of this particular exploration about halfway through. Visits to sites start to blur together, and even as McClure becomes disillusioned with her expectations, so the reader may become bored with her ramblings. I did find her encounter with the homeschoolers who idolize Wilder and her self-sustaining lifestyle to be quite humorous, especially since McClure herself is at such odds with their conservative and religious mindset. I imagine that this book might be interesting to a determined fan who already has a good grasp on the truth and fiction in Wilder’s novels; however, to a casual fan, the amount of information and reminiscing is overwhelming and admittedly, becomes a bit tedious.

[Maggi Andersen · Rating 1 out of 5]

I wanted so badly to like this book. I love everything Little House, and the author claimed to, as well. But it takes more than a love for something to write a decent book. McClure decides to go in the direction of many writers, "Eat/Pray/Love"-ing her way through what she dubs "Laura World," but for what reason, it's never clear. There's nothing to tie it all together, and she seems to realize this toward the end when she quickly remarks it all must have something to do with her mother's death a few years prior. Her aimless jaunt along different Little House tourist spots seems, for lack of a better term, half-assed. I cannot count the number of times she turns to her boyfriend, Chris (who, I wished more than a few times, had written the book himself) and says, "Let's just go." Most of her time at these locations is spent criticizing the exhibits or lack thereof, and making fun of the people there. McClure, it seems, only allows herself to connect with people she isn't threatened by, even if they know little to nothing about the Little House books and Laura Ingalls Wilder, which, ironically, makes her no better than the supposed bigots she alludes to from the stories. She also takes great umbrage with viewers of the NBC Little House on the Prairie, series, accusing them of knowing nothing of the "true" Laura universe, because the show "isn't real," and then in the same breath admits that her beloved books were also fictionalized to a large degree.

In the end, what readers are left with is a sloppily pieced memoir by someone who thinks holding onto childhood interests goes hand-in-hand with stunted emotional maturity. Her aimless journey is acknowledged when she's halfway through with her trips, when she remarks, "I wasn't even sure what I was looking for, anymore." The sad truth is, she never was sure to begin with.

[Melinda · Rating 3 out of 5]

Alison Arngrim, whom you may recall wrote what I consider to be the The Official Perfect Little House On The Prairie Celebrity Memoir, called The Wilder Life "howlingly funny" and "irresistibly mad" in her back-cover blurb, which pretty much filled me with an overwhelming degree of anticipatory joy. You can imagine my heartbreak, then, to end up just kind of sort of liking it, rather than LOVING it. I don't know... something about the journey the author takes just didn't grab me. It seems like there were opportunities for so much more -- i mean, if I were in de Smet and someone gave me the opportunity to make a corncob doll, you'd better believe I'd have more than a few paragraphs worth of material to share on the experience.

There were some funny moments. I loved the run-in with the End of the World homesteaders, and the interplay between the author and her husband -- the passage where he freaks out while reading Farmer Boy ("'He took a bite of doughnut AND THEN a bite of cookie.' That is some bad-ass action right there," Chris said) made me laugh out loud. And I also appreciated the passages on the Little House Universe' conflicted relationship with Rose Wilder Lane.

The part that really resonated with me, though, was learning that there are other women out there who grew up daydreaming about Laura Ingalls Wilder traveling to the future to hang out with them. Like, lots of other women. I totally had no idea that I was not the only one sitting in the back seat of my parents' minivan, imagining Laura sitting next to me, whispering to her "It's ok, Laura, this thing is called a CAR."

[Dree · Rating 4 out of 5]

So yeah, I loved the Little House books as a kid. I wanted to be Laura SO BAD. She had sisters! And her family sang and danced to Pa's fiddle! And they played in the creeks! And walked miles to school! And had adventures! And moved to new places! And everything always turned out for the best!

Yup, suburban hell me was jealous--subruban hell me who lived in one house, had short hair because it was easier for mom, who walked a block to school, and who's dad might not have even danced at his own wedding was quite jealous (forget about the long winter part, and the leeches). Wendy McClure didn't want to be Laura, she wanted to be her best friend.

So McClure tried to chase down the Ingalls allure at the various little houses and dugouts rebuilt and memorialized, with gift shops attached. Even she wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she found some characters. From scholars to college-age tour guides, business owners, and Laura fans. And Laura fans come in all types--sweet girls, homeschoolers following a Little House curriculum (REALLY? Kind of weird, but I would have loved it as a kid), and end-timers. Yup, end timers love the Ingalls ideal. But their ideal is not based on nearly starving, failed business ventures, grasshopper clouds, and diptheria. Their ideal seems to be based on the TV show.

A fun read, though if you didn't love the books, you probably wouldn't get it. Now I want to go to DeSmet and Walnut Grove and see the pageants! Little House pageants! (Pageant in the theatre sense, not the toddlers and tiaras sense.)

[Jean · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have to agree with several other reviewers that this book was far less about Laura Ingalls Wilder and her stories (and her real life, which of course runs deeper than the LHOP series) and far more about Wendy McClure's life and trying to come to terms with *whatever* she was trying to come to terms with. I identified with her love of the books as a child, but we pretty much parted company after that point.

Ms. McClure is apparently looking at Laura's late 19th century worldview through 21st century lenses and making judgements as harsh, in her own way, as those she accuses Laura's family of making. Here's one of many examples:

McClure labels Ma (Caroline Ingalls) as racist because of her attitude toward "Indians" in Kansas...but consider this: 1) Ma lived during the era of the Spirit Lake massacre and she was well aware of the violence committed there [I'm not suggesting there wasn't plenty of violence done to Native Americans,as well, but we're discussing Ma's world view here]and 2) she and her small children were completely alone much of the time, especially if Pa were out of sight/hearing of the house--it was up to her to protect her children from real or perceived threats.

The LOTH books aren't perfect, and neither is our understanding of all the cultural nuances that praire pioneers assumed/experienced...but I wanted to read a Laura Ingalls Wilder-related book rather than the ramblings of an angst-ridden, politically correct young woman. Luckily, there are still plenty of other good biographies and scholarly works out there that some readers may prefer.

[Relyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was delighted to discover this book. A girl who loves Laura is a girl after my own heart. I was hooked when I read this,

"...well, you know what I really liked? I liked books with pictures of toast in them. Well, not just toast, you know, cups and ladles and baskets and hats, lovingly rendered in all their places in a room or even just little vignettes, but at any rate things in all their thinginess.

I pored over pages of Richard Scarry's Dictionary of Something-Or-Other, looking at all the little rooms whose contents were meticulously cataloged..."

YES!! I love home stories. Home descriptions, domestic details, things in all their thinginess. That's why Rosamund Pilcher's stories thrill me so much.

Anyway. The further I read (about half way, before I stopped) the more I knew I didn't want to read. Not because she can't write - she can. Not because she wasn't engaging - she was. But, because I am the kind of girl who doesn't watch Making of movies and would never dream of going behind the scenes at Disney. Don't tell me how the magic works - just let it be magic. I stopped reading because she was telling me WAY too much about what was real and what wasn't in Laura's books. Not thank you. I'll keep the magic in place.

But if you want to know more about the real Laura and you'd like to make friends with a fun modern girl, too. Then, this is the book for you.

[Stephanie · Rating 1 out of 5]

Sigh . . . I was so excited about this book. I was even prepared to deal with the disjointed narrative, which reflected McClure's admittedly disorganized tackling of the project. But I eventually could NOT deal with the narrator anymore.

She describes so well the way that she and many other little girls (myself included) felt about these books and about Laura, but that child-like fascination seemed to give way to something a bit . . . smirkier. At times she has a really condescending attitude towards the other LHotP devotees she meets on her pilgrimage. If they didn't appreciate the Little House books for the "right" reasons, or they loved the TV show, or they were religious, or they home-schooled, or whatever, then they were deemed fair kooky game. It was a disappointment.