'Jo's Boys' by Louisa May Alcott

Here is the final book in the March family series. The boy students in Little Men (read my review here) are now ten years older and forging their paths in the world, while Jo and Fritz Bhaer anxiously watch to gauge whether or not they've lived up to their full potential. Some of the young men venture far from home, and we follow their stories. I think Emil's is the most exciting, Dan's is the most emotional and Nat's is the most relatable. Meanwhile, there is now a big University on the grounds of Plumfield, for those who choose to stay behind. 

Okay, this write-up is going to be a bit gossipy, because by now we're familiar with all the Marches, Bhaers and Brookes, and there are so many divergent threads, I find it's the easiest way to write it. Here goes. 

What struck me this time round, both good and bad.

1) There's a fair bit of romance in this book, but in the spirit of the original Jo and Laurie thread, Alcott still shipwrecks a few budding relationships that appeared promising. (For the record, I was never upset about Jo and Laurie's failure to launch, but I can't deny Alcott led astray thousands of readers who shipped them.) But hooray, she does give us Daisy and Nat, for which I'm grateful, because they're adorable together and perfectly suited. And she introduces new love interests for Franz, Emil, Demi and Tommy. 

2) The biggest hypocrite award goes to Meg. (Don't worry, I'm half joking here.) As we know, she once had yearnings to pursue an acting career, and eventually married a poor man for love. Yet when it comes to her own daughters, she opposes the idea of Daisy marrying a charity case like Nat, and also resists young Josie's fascination with the stage. Hoping that Meg will change her mind is one of the main themes for the Brooke girls, who lived in an era when dutiful daughters obeyed their mothers implicitly.  

3) Dan continues to make me feel as if he's been transplanted from a different story altogether, with his restless energy and violent outbursts. The power of genetics comes through, as Alcott gives the impression that the shadow of his restless, dissolute father still hovers over his life, although Dan never even knew the guy. It's clever how she writes it this way, and Dan remains one of her most interesting characters. The little touch of thwarted love at the end breaks my heart for him, although I'm convinced that what he wanted would never have worked in a million years! 

4) The chapter entitled, 'Jo's Last Scrape' is clearly autobiographical. Louisa shows us Jo experiencing the nineteenth century version of annoying paparazzi and crazy fans. She aims to reveal the impossible juggling act it is to please the public and also look after her own well-being, because all the seemingly harmless demands on her time amount to an ocean rather than a trickle. On the last page of the story, the narrator suddenly gets a bit snarky and says she wishes she could destroy Plumfield in an earthquake with everyone in it. Ouch, I suspect Louisa was barely keeping a lid on her real life frustration at this point. 

5) One character who impresses me most is young Rob, who's grown up to be a modest and dependable young man, helping both parents with tedious paperwork chores behind the scenes with no expectation of fanfare or back pats. For me, he compares favourably to some of the more showy, noisy or indulged characters. (Ahem, his younger brother and two youngest girl cousins.) Laurie and Amy's daughter Bess is nicknamed 'Princess' without the negative connotations the word contains today, yet some modern readers probably can't help filling them in. I was sure tempted to. 

6) I can't help agreeing with Dan when he says that Bess, the princess, should explore the scope of her own country before dashing off overseas to sketch the beauties of Rome. Whether or not you agree with his view that all of the stone gods and goddesses are a bit namby-pamby, he makes a fair point. 

7) Laurie and Amy were richer than a wedding cake! Nat and Dan felt grateful and obligated to them for their financial backing, and rightfully so, yet I can't help remembering that Laurie's prosperity was a benefit from his family line. In a way, it was the luck of the cosmic draw that he was born into big money rather than them. He and Amy lived in a mansion and also owned a flash holiday home near Miss Cameron, their era's version of a movie star, with whom they were on friendly visiting terms. And Laurie's purse seemed to be bottomless! Supporting far less fortunate young men in their chosen professions was barely scraping it. No wonder he was such a good natured, jolly uncle character. He could afford to be.  

8) The two dreamy/thinking boys come out well. Demi's thread is interesting. Unlike his twin sister, he resists falling in with plans his mother and other older relatives concocted for his life long ago. All through Little Men, it looked as if everyone expected him to be a minister, but he chooses to be a journalist instead, and later gets into the publishing industry. And Nat fulfills his promise to become a polished musician, even though Jo often seems to denigrate him in her secret heart and consider him a bit of a weakling. I was tired of that, and really wanted him to show her. 

9) Jack and Ned, who hardly get a mention in the this story, are regarded as Plumfield's two 'failures.' Yet we're told that Jack fulfilled his youthful ambition of becoming a businessman and raking in the dough, so I guess that in his own books, he was a smashing success. It's all relative, hey? 

10) Alcott's writing is dense with other references. Reading her novels could be an education in itself, if we bother to follow all her leads. She frequently refers to the classics, or to other authors from her own time period who most modern readers are not so familiar with. It appears that Louisa expected her peers, like Charlotte Yonge, to remain timeless, yet her own name has endured for longer. 

I followed a few of the more interesting sounding ones and found it well worth my time. For example, she referred to Emil as their own 'Casabianca' and I traced the reference to Felicity Hemans, the old-timer who wrote the original 'Boy Stood on the Burning Deck' poem, which has been paradied and butchered for decades. That was a 'Wow' moment for me, and to find out what Emil has in common with the boy who stood on the burning deck, you'll have to read Jo's Boys.  

I guess this review or gossip-fest or whatever you'd choose to call it has gone on for long enough, but Jo's Boys is such a tying-up-of-ends sort of book encompassing so many characters, I couldn't help myself. 

My final word is that I enjoyed the whole series and recommend it thoroughly.  

Further Update: I couldn't get enough of Jo's Boys, so I decided to begin writing a chapter story of my own, featuring some of her beloved characters on a fan fiction site. If you'd like to read my companion novel, entitled Longing For Home, click here. It is totally canon compliant, and I've tried to thresh out the story threads of Emil and Mary, and Nat and Daisy.