classic Archives - The Pencil Princess Workshop

A Christmas Carol

I’ve read A Christmas Carol before, of course. When exactly, I can’t remember–perhaps it was for school.

Reading it again, I’m impressed by the wealth of detail. The world comes alive with the meager coal in Bob Cratchit’s fireplace, the door knocker that morphs into Marley’s face, and the pictures of revelry outside Scrooge’s window (and the bleakness within).

I also love the characters in this book. Scrooge bristles with complexity. As we pass through his past and linger in his present, we see that he’s more than the crusted, money-grubbing, crab he has become. Others, too, have intricately-woven personalities. Scrooge’s nephew delights. Bob Cratchit and all the other Cratchits make joy with hardly any wherewithal.

The thing I might like best about A Christmas Carol, though, is the way it champions the potential for redemption in everyone. If Scrooge can change, there’s hope for us all.

If you haven’t read this in a while (or never read it), I recommend picking up a copy. The digital copy I picked up from Amazon is free, and I’m sure it’s available at most libraries.

Little Women

I’ve been rereading Little Women the past few weeks, and I’m reminded what a wonderful book it is. I started reading it for a The Enchanted Book Club, but I’m way behind, and haven’t been able to participate in the discussions. Maybe I’ll do better with next month’s selection.

Moral Pap for the Young?

Louisa May Alcott may well have considered Little Women to be “moral pap for the young,” but that’s not how I see it. The characters are so well-drawn that it’s hard to help loving them. Even though it’s more than a century since she published the book, I feel like I know Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy.

What I’ve always liked best about this is the sister-relationships. They’re so life-like. My sisters have occasionally angered me the way Amy angers Jo. We’ve all strained each others’ nerves. And we have each others’ backs. The particulars may be different, but the experience is the same.

I even like the “moral pap.” At least, I relate to the need to control one’s temper–and appreciate now (as I did when I was young) finding a character who struggled with this in her life. I’m not the only one. And it is a real need. Sometimes maturity requires learning to control oneself–and that’s not necessarily an easy thing.

True Beauty

I also like a book (an old book!) that appreciates women for more than just outward beauty. These “little women” are intelligent, well-read, ambitious, creative, and often exuberant, and they strive to develop good character in themselves. I like them for it. It helps me to recognize that these are the kinds of things (not just physical attractiveness) that make someone beautiful. I want to be this kind of woman.

If you haven’t read this classic, I recommend it. And if you have, it might be worth picking up again.

Moods

I wanted to love Moods since the work was obviously so important to Louisa May Alcott. And I liked it. It was a beautifully written, moody book, thought-provoking and entertaining by turns.

I didn’t thrill to it the way I thrilled to some of Alcott’s others, though. It didn’t involve me as deeply as Little Women or An Old Fashioned Girl. It didn’t have the light, fun luminescence of Eight Cousins or Rose in Bloom. Instead of searing itself on my mind, becoming part of my soul, this book was fun for the moment, and then faded into the mass of stories that forms the main fog of my literary history. Is this because I read it as an adult rather than a teenager? Because its ending is less than perfectly happy? Because it is, after all, a less stellar work? It’s hard to say.

Its’ possible, though, that this book is less of a masterpiece than Alcott believed and hoped it to be. There’s a lesson in that, I think. Like Alcott, I’d be well advised to finish the work of my heart–but also to keep after the stuff that resonates more with other people. It’s hard to judge which of one’s own works might be truly the best.