Friday, November 11, 2022

'An Old Fashioned Girl' by Louisa May Alcott


It was first serialised in the Merry's Museum magazine between July and August in 1869 and consisted of only six chapters. For the finished product, however, Alcott continued the story from the chapter "Six Years Afterwards" and so it ended up with nineteen chapters in all. The book revolves around Polly Milton, the old-fashioned girl who titles the story. Polly visits her wealthy friend Fanny Shaw in the city and is overwhelmed by the fashionable and urban life they live--but also left out because of her "countrified" manners and outdated clothes.

MY THOUGHTS: 

Louisa May Alcott is one of those old-time authors whose books I find generally satisfying and uplifting. 

This one is set in late nineteenth century Boston. 14-year-old Polly Milton goes for a long visit to the family of her good friend, 16-year-old Fanny Shaw. Somehow this unlikely pair have struck up a bond, even though Polly is a poor, unembellished country girl and Fanny is a wealthy, cosmopolitan young woman. But their gaping differences create uncomfortable friction when they try to get along together beneath one roof. I guess the trope is so familiar because it's a good one, and Alcott brings her own strengths to the way things pan out. These include likeable characters, transparent frankness, and a relatable way of making us take the characters' lessons on board. I was willing to roll with the whole City Mouse-Country Mouse theme as if I'd never seen it before. 

How should you react when your host suggests that your ways are backward, naive and worthy of jest? Adopting Fanny's style seems out of the question, since Polly is certain she couldn't pull it off even if she wanted to try. Yet it feels really awkward to think that her own appearance and presentation must reflect negatively on Fanny. It's a sensitive, seemingly irresolvable quandary for a young teenager to face and I was interested in Polly's unfolding choices. Fashion and finery are hard things to turn your back on and ignore when they are always in your face. 

She must also fit in with all the other members of the Shaw family, including Fanny's tiresome younger brother Tom, who is just the sort of character Louisa May Alcott loved to write, reflecting her own well-known weakness for boys. He's a rowdy, scornful, scatter-brained, restless, brash, testosterone driven, bad decision making and often annoying pain in the neck. Yet there's a certain vibrancy about Tom that appeals to Polly, and plenty of evidence that he hides a heart of gold. 

The story is basically told in two sections. First is Polly's initial visit to the Shaw family, when they are all quite young. The second part picks up six years further on, when she's back in Boston as a self-employed music tutor, trying to be independent so she can help her younger brother through college. That's when a few plots really start to thicken.

There are a couple of cheeky author intrusions which I can't go without mentioning. Firstly, Louisa May Alcott briefly writes herself into the story as a bit character, the author Kate King. ('Kate had written a successful book by accident, and happened to be the fashion just then.') We don't have to be geniuses to guess she's talking about Little Women. Kate starts discussing her personal experience. 'My children, beware of popularity; it is a delusion and a snare...' And Fanny looks at Kate and secretly wonders whether a woman could possibly earn a little money and success without such a heavy toll. For Kate looked 'sick, tired, and too early old.' Ah, poor Kate/Louisa, I guess you've earned the right to step inside one of your own novels for a moment. 

The second occasion is toward the end, when it appears all the love affairs are shaping up just as most readers hoped. Alcott can't resist a snarky comment when she writes, 'Intimidated by the threats, denunciations, and complaints showered upon me in consequence of taking the liberty to end a certain story as I liked, I now yield to the amiable desire of giving satisfaction.' Whoa, it seems she's still stewing over adverse reactions to her decision not to pair off Jo and Laurie! It's a bit of a cheap dig to vent her resentment in the pages of a totally separate novel, but I had to laugh at how she gets the last word.

Alcott is right, I can't imagine any romantics being unhappy with this book. Oh, slow down my heart, the unrequited love! Polly's ordeals gets really interesting when she rebuffs a noble, sensible catch who is every girl's desire, just because she's nursing forbidden love for intoxicating fruit who may never be hers. Alcott writes in such a way that Part Two practically drips with Polly's hidden desire, but it's never explicitly stated until a specific moment well down the track. That's seemingly out of authorial respect for Polly's privacy, but gives us readers a chance to shout, 'Yes, I knew it!' 

Perhaps my one gripe is that the story is sadly sparse on details regarding men's work. We're not told either Mr Shaw's line of business which folds, or Ned Milton's western venture, which Tom eventually buys into. But Alcott knew this would be peripheral to her target audience, who were girls like Fanny and Polly after all. Still, I would have been interested to know, and I'm surely not alone.  

Overall, life should always include books that make us sigh, 'How sweet,' or cheer, 'Hooray,' and this one does both. Louisa May Alcott, who is so often heavy handed with the preachiness of her stories, has done it again and pulled me right in. She herself may get a bit moralistic but the Shaws and Miltons themselves don't. (I personally love it when fiery Polly threatens Fanny with dire consequences if she should breathe a word to anyone about her discovery regarding who Polly is really in love with.) Poor Alcott might have written her fingers to the bone and carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, but she's done it again for me. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟½ 

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