What do you think about the narrative style of Dogland?

So I’m starting to think that the pointless aspects of the story are just the style in which it was written.The question is: do we like this style? Or is it too much description and not enough plot?

Liz

I like it. There are parts that are seriously boring, like the description of the family’s first trip to visit the grandparents in Minnesota.  But most of the time I’m down. I like the little anecdotes like the story about the old-fashioned coca-cola machine, where you’re reminded of how adventurous, yet nervous you are when you’re a kid. I was a little disappointed in Chapter 8, though, when the narrator reminds us that “My five-year-old self didn’t notice it, but…” I like to see things from only one view and to forget that there is an active narrator who is telling and reflecting on the story. This part reminded me of Little Women where the narrator breaks in to say something about her perspective even though she’s the one telling the story. It pulls me out of the book for a moment. At least in this book we know who the narrator is and it makes sense to hear his outside comments.

Claire

I have pretty mixed feelings about the narrative style. I think the story could have used another once over from an editor who wasn’t afraid to cut the fat. Sometimes it works and the anecdotes are fun little insights into the family’s life and the narrator’s experience of the world around him. But other times the slow, rambling style just feels like an unnecessary drag. There are parts where Chris will describe the games that he’d played, either alone or with his siblings/other children. They just go on and on. I don’t need to read that much description about a bunch of kids playing some game. “I said ‘bang’ and then she said ‘boom’ and I fired at her and said ‘bang’ again and she said ‘boom’ once more and then…” Enough already! It would be one thing if these descriptions of playing cowboys and Indians actually led to something interesting or worthwhile, but they often don’t. I know how kids play. I was a kid once. I’ve seen other children play. I don’t need a word-for-word account of what transpired. It’s that kind of thing that really bugs me. I just keep finding myself reading a passage and then thinking, “And?”

I do like the narrative style for the most part, though. I think Chris is sweet and funny. I like that his retelling of his experiences strikes a good balance between amply descriptive and appropriately childlike. Rarely does he describe something that you just know a 5 year old wouldn’t remember or wouldn’t have noticed. I feel like I’m just waiting for something to actually happen, though. I’m not quite as far along as you are, but still, there just doesn’t feel like much of a point. It’s an enjoyable book to read, but I can’t really put my finger on why the author bothered to write it. I mean, they open up this place that has a ton of dogs and, because it’s Southern Florida, a bunch of people are really racist and you get the story of Chris growing up against this backdrop. It doesn’t really ever comment on what any of this means for Chris, though, and perhaps that’s a failing of the chosen narrative style. I kind of wish that rather than just recounting the experience, including lots of pointless, mundane details, the story was written so that we could get some kind of reflection from Chris upon looking back on this portion of his life.

I don’t know. I’m conflicted. I’m enjoying the book, but I think, if it were me, I would have made some different creative choices.

What’s Up With Everyone Getting Hurt in Dogland?

Claire


So before we actually get into really discussing this new book (which I’m enjoying quite a bit, by the way), can we talk about why everyone keeps getting hurt?

Within the first four chapters, Digger is bitten by the detached head of a rattlesnake, Little Bit falls out the window of a car, the dad is attacked by a doberman and then Digger falls and busts open his forehead. It feels like a bit much to me and I’m trying to understand the reasoning behind it from a storytelling perspective. Is it just that because Chris (the narrator) is a child, these traumatic family events seem more significant than other stories in his life, so he’s more likely to share them? Are we being set up for one of these characters to die? Are these rapid-fire injuries meant to serve as portents? Or are we just supposed to read about one accident after another and think, “geez, moving to Florida and getting Dogland set up sure was a stressful experience for this family”? Or are these accidents something that we’re meant to add to the list of things that might lead to the divorce of the mother and father? I mention this last possibility because it sure seems like the author is pushing the issue of Artie Drake being all hot and bothered about Chris’ mom.

So what’s your thought on this? After Digger’s second accident did you find yourself rolling your eyes and thinking they should just lock that kid in a padded room and be done with it? Enough with the family emergencies already, no?

Liz

I also find the constant accidents a little annoying.  I think you’re right about the reasons on both counts. I think certain things are elevated in the story because the story is told through a 5 year-old’s (ok 4 and 3/4 year old’s) eyes. His siblings’ injuries are not just about a different lifestyle for the family and the difficulty coping with those changes, but also about Chris being left out. He wants the attention that a serious injury brings, so both the severeness of the accidents and the fact that he is pushed aside probably contributes to their importance. But then again he did almost get carried away by a river…

I also think there is some upcoming marital strife and the accidents will relate to that when it comes about. Not only does  Artie Drake have the hots for the mom, but it seems Mrs. DeLyon is being a little too obvious about her hots for the dad. So we shall see.

Little Women Wrap Up

Liz has been out of town for the past week, maxing and relaxing on a beautiful beach in Turkey. I would be totally jealous of her amazing vacation, followed by her trip to Oktoberfest, but whatever, I’m going back to Ann Arbor in a couple of weeks for a football game, so I think we all know that Liz is the one who should be jealous. Suck it, Liz.

Anyway, now that she’s back, we’re wrapping up our discussion of Little Women and will be moving on to talking about our next book, Dogland, by Will Shetterly.

So before we say goodbye to Little Women for good, let’s talk about what we liked and what we hated about this book…

Liz

I am jealous of you going to Ann Arbor. I would enjoy a visit. But yea my life kind of rocks…so you can suck it!

To be honest, I have to say that I was disappointed by this classic. Yea, I said it. It’s too preachy. Too long. And huge portions are just boring.  At the end did I really need a whole chapter about Meg’s twins? No. I didn’t.

Overall I did enjoy reading this book though. It was fun to read a classic style and to see how life was in a different era through 4 lives. It also gave me an opportunity to receive some history lessons from my very intelligent older sister. I’m always happy to have read a classic, but for this one, just as for others (I’m looking at you Frankenstein) I am happy to be done and moving on.

Claire

Hmm, I actually kind of liked Frankenstein, but that could be because I had to read it the same summer that I read Go Tell It On The Mountain, which was by far the least enjoyable book I have ever read. Seriously, if someone said, “you either have to stand here for two hours holding a pile of dog poop in your hands, or you have to read Go Tell It On The Mountain,” well I’d just punch that asshole in the face and run away, but I think you get my point: I’m never reading Go Tell It On The Mountain ever again.

As for Little Women, I actually remember enjoying this book much more the first time I read it. I didn’t love it this second time around. Perhaps when I was younger, the story’s focus on growing up and navigating the transition from child to adulthood just resonated with me more. Now, it just felt kind of silly and overly long and much too fixated on really mundane details of the sisters’ lives.

I do appreciate, however, that this is ultimately a novel for and about women. While men do factor into much of the story, it really manages to remain largely focused on the lives and feelings of these four women and the bond they share as sisters. I think that’s pretty rare and special in literature and is what probably made me like the book so much the first time I read it.

Also, reading this book really made me want to watch the movie again. I think I might do that sometime soon, like, you know, as soon as I’m done drinking and having a blast at Oktoberfest. Oh no wait, you’re the one going to Oktoberfest. I’m the one drinking alone in my tv room catching up on Tivoed sitcoms. Sad face. Drink an extra torso-sized stein for me!

Love then and now

Liz

It occurred to me while reading about the love lives of the “Little Women” that each of them waited about for some time before their chosen plans could be fulfilled.  It made me wonder why being apart seems like such a daunting task for a couple in modern times. It’s hard for me to imagine myself in the position of saying “Yes, go be successful and make a man of yourself and I’ll see you in three years and marry you.” Why are we so much more hasty in our affairs nowadays? Do you think it’s because sex before marriage is more accepted or do we just have so many options and freedoms that it’s too hard to be patient?

Claire

I think it’s mostly that the entire context and framework of falling in love has changed. Formal courtship doesn’t really exist anymore. It used to be that men would make known their intentions for marriage and then set themselves about the task of becoming worthy or their future brides. Men went away to become successful and dignified so that they could essentially earn a woman’s hand in marriage and prove that they were responsible and hardworking and capable of providing for a wife and a home. It seems to me that relationships were more something that men had to earn, whereas nowadays, I think they are something that two people create and build together, often over the course of many years and many life changes.

I don’t doubt that a lot of the difference has to do with women simply having more power and autonomy. I at least hope that we are less something that men can earn through the demonstration of hard work and determination and more equal contributors financially, intellectually and romantically. I think you are right that it has to do with having more options and freedoms, but I’m not sure that those necessarily stand in contrast to patience. You’re not going to wait around for three years for some man to go off and find success and make a name for himself because you simply don’t have to. I think women during Alcott’s time practiced greater patience because they had to. They had far fewer opportunities to earn money or seek their own fame and becoming the wife of an honest, hardworking man was pretty much seen as the ultimate accomplishment for a woman, no? Now, women are able to find their own way in life. That’s not to say that two people couldn’t spend three years apart, earning money and success, and then come back together and get married, but when such pursuits are regarded as acts of independence and you don’t have one person just waiting around, learning how to be a proper lady/wife until the other returns, there are far more opportunities for the relationship to fall apart.

So yeah. Those are my thoughts. It’s a good question for sure, but ultimately I think what made being apart less daunting was simply that that was the way these things worked then. That was the convention at the time and it would have been very unbecoming of women to complain.

Is Jo A Good Role Model?

Do you think that Alcott wants readers to view Jo as a role model and if so, has she succeeded in doing so? Is Jo a good role model for young women of Alcott’s time? What about for young women today?

Liz

I think Jo represents an alternative lifestyle more than a role model.  If she is meant to be a role model, I don’t think Jo is a good one.  I imagine by the end of the book that Jo comes into her own, grows up, learns to control her temper, and becomes an amazing woman.  But at the point in the story that I am currently at, I certainly don’t see her as a role model.  Take Chapters 29 and 30: These chapters infuriated me because they are all about little-miss-perfect Amy and what a successful young woman she is becoming. Though these chapters fail to make me appreciate Amy (I just don’t like her and I’m not sure why) they do succeed in making Jo look immature and petty and illustrate the consequences of that behavior.  In Chapter 29 Jo speaks her mind a little too readily and far too curtly and loses her chance to go abroad with her aunt, who favors Amy’s manners over Jo’s negativity and pride.  I would actually argue that Jo’s character (at least at this point) acts as a cautionary tale about what can happen if you’re too self-absorbed and set in your ways.

Though I still find this book far too preachy I do think Jo’s character and the lessons Marmee has tried to teach her about temper has made me more thoughtful about my own.  I have always had a bad temper, but especially now, when I am often stressed and agitated from language barriers and loneliness, I have spoken my feelings too quickly without considering that they may hurt the person I love the most.  I have tried to focus on this flaw and be mindful of controlling my emotions.  I still have a long way to go, but it’s a lesson I am glad to have picked up during my reading.  I still don’t give a damn about my neighbor though.

Claire

I’m sort of conflicted as to whether or not we’re meant to see Jo as a role model. I think Alcott very likely put a lot of herself into that character. I imagine that she must have felt fairly frustrated with the conventions of her time and the discrepancy between the kind of life she was expected to lead and that which she wished to create for herself. I think that’s what we largely see in Jo: an anger toward social conventions and angst about finding her own place in a world that doesn’t really have a space for her. In that way, I think we’re meant to sympathize with Jo and see her frustrations as kind of reflecting common feelings of growing up, having our voices heard and making a name for ourselves. I think that was a struggle that Alcott felt and that many young women have experienced over time. Again, I don’t know that that inherently makes Jo a role model, but I think she’s meant to represent a strength of character and resolve that Alcott sees as worthy of emulating.

I think the March sisters as a collective unit are meant to serve as a role model. They each possess certain admirable traits that, when combined, represent an intelligent, honorable, kind and passionate young woman.

Lastly:
“I have spoken my feelings too quickly without considering that they may hurt the person I love the most”

Aw, you don’t hurt me all that often Lizzy

Were Americans in the 1800s more worldly?

Liz

In reading Chapter 12 “Camp Laurence” I found the discussion of Meg’s ability to read German interesting.   It seems odd to imagine that Americans in the late 1800s were focused on reading in German and interested in French fashion and phrases.  In a time when communication oversees was so limited how could people be so successfully international in their thinking? Shed some light on this please!

Claire

I don’t really have a definitive answer for you; this is a case where greater knowledge of American history might prove helpful.

I do know that Alcott was born in Germantown, Pennsylvania. I can’t really speak to the population at the time of her birth, but perhaps Alcott grew up among German immigrants, or had family that had originally emigrated from Germany. Her family moved to Boston when she was quite young, though, so Germantown could just as easily have nothing to do with her creating characters that are interested in German.

I also know that her father was a writer and a good friend of Ralph Waldo Emerson and other important writers and philosophers of the time. Alcott worked as a governess for Emerson’s children as well. Again, I don’t have enough historical knowledge or desire to actually research this, but maybe when Alcott was growing up, German philosophy and prose were of particular significance to her father and his friends. Perhaps she grew up hearing about and reading German prose and decided to incorporate her love of that language into her book.

Further still, maybe the Concord, Massachusetts of the March family’s time was heavily populated with German immigrants. Hannah, the family housekeeper is German, as are the Hubbels, the family the March sisters visit on Christmas morning to offer up their breakfast as a gift to the poor children. Meg’s specific interest in German could stem from a desire to feel more connected to the roots and history of the people who surrounded her. For all I know, that area of the United States was heavily German.

I just can’t really say for certain why German without knowing more about the makeup of the population and the United States’ relationship with Germany at the time. I wouldn’t say that Americans were more worldly then than they are now, though. I think it’s more a product of really not being all that far removed from direct connection with Europe, combined with a dearth of American cultural and literary contribution, especially when compared to Europe. A child growing up at this time could conceivably have grandparents or older relatives who were alive during the War of 1812 when the US fought Great Britain. There were a great many people moving to the United States from Europe. The United States wasn’t the super power it is today and hadn’t really yet developed the kind of cultural relevance and prestige that European nations held on the world’s stage. European languages and cultures were regarded as very sophisticated and romantic. Nowadays, there’s so much American literature and history to study, whereas at the time of this book’s publication and before it, European texts greatly outnumbered American contributions in the literary world.

Like I said, I don’t really have any idea why Meg would choose to read to German, but as for French fashion and phrases: France always has been and always will be the world’s leader in those departments.

Amy Is Such A Samantha

Claire

I like to think that when this book was published way back in 1868, groups of four girlfriends sat around arguing over which one of them was “the Jo” of the group, like people did with the four characters from Sex and the City, or like we used to do with the characters from Now and Then. Now and Then was tricky, though, because when they were little, Roberta (mostly by virtue of being portrayed by Christina Ricci) was obviously the girl you most wanted to be like (she’s clearly the most awesome and she’s the only one who gets to kiss a boy!), but then when she grew up, she ended up being Rosie O’Donnell, and let’s be honest, no one wants to be Rosie O’Donnell.

Hands down, I’d want to be the Jo of my group. I think anyone with any sense would want to be Jo. She rocks. I kind of feel like I’d be unwillingly pegged as the Meg, though, which is a total bummer. No way would anyone ever think of me as Amy. Being the Beth of the group would pretty much suck, what with the early death and all.

Your thoughts on this absolutely inane topic?

Liz

I always did think that was total crap that Roberta ended up as Rosie O’Donnell. Thumbs down to that casting.

I think Amy’s a total Charlotte though… and yea, you’re a Meg. I’m a Jo.

Claire

Bullshit. You’re an Amy. 1. You’re the youngest. 2. You’re into art and painting and all that. 3. Remember how when you were little you would sit around writing the word boys on a piece of paper?* That’s totally something Amy would do.

(*Liz never actually did this, but it was one of our dad’s running jokes throughout most of our childhood.)

Is this book too preachy, or is it just me?

Liz

Like this line: “‘That’s loving our neighbor better than ourselves, and I like it,’ said Meg.”

Seriously Meg?

Claire

I’d like to propose the following change:

“That’s loving our neighbor better than ourselves, and I’m not going to stand for that shit.”

Let’s Get This Party Started

To kick off our international book club, we have decided to read Louisa May Alcott’s, Little Women. Really, what better way for two sisters to begin a book club than with a book that’s all about sisters?

Our plan is to read the book a few chapters at a time and periodically post questions and topics for discussion and each offer our thoughts. So, without further ado…

Let’s just cut to the chase and say that it will be unavoidable for either of us to make it through this book without comparing it to the (1994) movie, so why not face that comparison head on. In the first chapter, Alcott describes each of the sisters (both physical characteristics and general temperament) as they sit around the hearth chatting. How well do you think the characters from the movie match the descriptions provided in the book?

Liz

I’ll take them in the order they’re listed:

1. Meg- No way film Meg could be 16 as she is in the book.  I understand 1868 is another time, but I stand by that critique.  I prefer film Meg who is practical and responsible considerably over book Meg, who seems vain and fickle. I do like, however, that we are able to interpret some of that behavior through our understanding that she experienced life in the family while they were very wealthy and could afford all of the things the girls fret over.  The film doesn’t really reveal that the family has fallen from wealth…or maybe it does and that just never stuck in my mind.

2. Jo- Winona Ryder is far too beautiful to accurately portray Jo who is described as awkward with “a comical nose” and “sharp gray eyes.” In the film, after Jo cuts off her hair and Amy exclaims “Jo! Your one true beauty!” I always thought “uh, fuck you Amy,” but according to the book it actually is. Looks aside, I think the character was represented well in the film.  She possesses the same wit, temper, and boyish manner.

3. Amy- Dead on. Pain-in-the-ass.

4. Beth- It may be because I’ve only read through chapter 8, but I’ve yet to find shy Beth endearing.  Every time something of any excitement happens Beth is described as rushing to a corner with tears welling in her eyes. Uh, chill out spazz. In the film Claire Danes comes off as so sweet and pretty that you immediately find the soft nature of the character charming. I’ve warmed up to her a little since the scene where she receives her piano and thanks her elderly neighbor for it, but that scene also doesn’t compare to that of the film, which is a goddamn tearjerker.

They don’t describe Marmee, but it’s certainly worth mentioning that Susan Surandon plays that character flawlessly.  She has the perfect voice for preaching, while remaining likable. I hear it in my head when I read her dialogue.

Claire

I hear you on the age thing. It’s been a really long time since I’ve read this book and the image of the characters in the film version is certainly stronger in my mind than any memory I have of them from the first time I read the novel. I’m pretty sure I audibly guffawed when I read their ages this second time around. The only one in that entire cast who even seems close to the age of her actual character is Kirsten Dunst as Young Amy. Movie Meg could be mistaken for 30 before she could pass as 16. Ridiculous. And I too prefer movie Meg over book Meg, but that may have something to do with having changed the character’s age (I refuse to believe that movie Meg is meant to be 16). She comes off as more practical and responsible in the movie because she is older. She still displays some of the vanity and wishfulness that we see in the book, but it is tempered by age and experience. I think movie Meg definitely still wishes that she could live like the Sally Moffats of the world, but more fully recognizes and accepts that there are more important things in life. In the book, it seems that, while Meg recognizes this point, she doesn’t gracefully accept her frustration, so much as become kind of obnoxiously pompous and overbearing toward her sisters as a means of coping with it. As a big sister, I would like to think that book Meg is not meant to be taken as characterizing all older sisters.

It’s kind of funny that the description of Jo as tall and lanky and kind of awkward more closely resembles Claire Danes than Winona Ryder. I can’t really picture Jo as she is described in the book. I only see Jo as Ryder, who so perfectly embodies the character’s temperament and pluck. And although she doesn’t really match the physical description of Jo in the book, Winona Ryder does have a bit of a boyish quality that really works for the role. But yeah, in the movie when Amy cries “Your one true beauty,” my response was also pretty much “Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Amy?” God Amy is so irritating! I really despise that character. Movie, book, whatever. She sucks.

As for Beth, I think she may be one of literature’s earliest examples of Autism. What is the deal with Beth in this book? Sure, in the movie she’s pretty timid and she never really laughs so much as smiles meekly and barely speaks above a whisper, but you at least got the sense that it was more that she sort of just enjoyed a quiet, simple life, rather than being physically terrified and emotionally undone by everything that happens around her. Geez, no wonder she dies.

Lastly, I totally agree: Marmee is Susan Sarandon. There is just no way I will ever picture that character as anyone else.