Take a photo of a barcode or cover
A review by jamesbeth
A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott
2.0
What did I learn from this book? Well, I learned that I like history a lot more than deboned Victorian gothic novels. I learned that I'm into Lousia May Alcott the same way I'm into Emily Dickenson--which is to say, I like their lifes and biographies a bit more than their writing.
This was my pick for book club, my first, and I felt like a jack ass because I didn't like it. I liked it LESS than everyone else, actually, which is a bummer, because I felt a little deflated during the meeting on Sunday.
To compensate I did Louisa May 101 and contrasted her life, upbringing, transendentalists parents and Little Women--and, two hours later? I'm pretty sure every one wanted me to shut up (a little, at least)and I was wishing I would have just saved myself and them some time and just picked Little Women.
I'm a big fan of Little Women--novel, film, you name it. You pick a version, I will do long stretches of different scenes. I can make my chin quiver like Clare Danes or over enunciate like Margaret O'Brien. And the point of all this: just because you LOVE LW and you love Jo's ramblings about Sir. Hugo and Lady Violet, it doesn't mean you'll actually like two hundred plus pages of her wildest fantacies. No wonder Professor Beher tells her that's probably not "what's in her soul." I hope not, at least.
In terms of literary criticism: the book was heavily edited in the hopes of earning profit and becoming "publishable" material. I think Alcott got distracted and couldn't keep up with the numerous trips to the chopping block, because many of her threads weren't so finely woven.
There were too many characters, and the men, in particular, were really two dimentional. I'm not sure if Alcott simply felt uneasy about her knowledge of men in a romantic sense, or didn't know anyone she found dark and brooding, but Laurie is a much better character. So is Mr. Brook, Grandpa Lawrence...you name it.
She also didn't trust the reader to follow her and over does her forshadow.
Do I sound harsh? I don't mean to. Really. In fact, I had to go back with my red pin. Originally I was pretty forgiving and, even of the ultimate sin: finding myself skipping pages, paragraphs, etc. But then I thought: Jane Eyre is good, The House of Mirth is good--others? Well, sure. There are lots. People, Sarah Orne Jewitt is good. I liked Ambrose Bearce better than this silliness.
It didn't have to be believable, but it did have to be interesting...this didn't do it for me. So I will save you time: read Rebecca by DuMaurier, instead. Read the 13th Tale, the Shadow of the Wind, even read ANNE RICE if you want a gothic brew-ha-ha...but save Alcott for Little Women and grab a kitten and your rag bag and eat some pop-overs while you read it and leave fair Rosamond on her isolated island.
This was my pick for book club, my first, and I felt like a jack ass because I didn't like it. I liked it LESS than everyone else, actually, which is a bummer, because I felt a little deflated during the meeting on Sunday.
To compensate I did Louisa May 101 and contrasted her life, upbringing, transendentalists parents and Little Women--and, two hours later? I'm pretty sure every one wanted me to shut up (a little, at least)and I was wishing I would have just saved myself and them some time and just picked Little Women.
I'm a big fan of Little Women--novel, film, you name it. You pick a version, I will do long stretches of different scenes. I can make my chin quiver like Clare Danes or over enunciate like Margaret O'Brien. And the point of all this: just because you LOVE LW and you love Jo's ramblings about Sir. Hugo and Lady Violet, it doesn't mean you'll actually like two hundred plus pages of her wildest fantacies. No wonder Professor Beher tells her that's probably not "what's in her soul." I hope not, at least.
In terms of literary criticism: the book was heavily edited in the hopes of earning profit and becoming "publishable" material. I think Alcott got distracted and couldn't keep up with the numerous trips to the chopping block, because many of her threads weren't so finely woven.
There were too many characters, and the men, in particular, were really two dimentional. I'm not sure if Alcott simply felt uneasy about her knowledge of men in a romantic sense, or didn't know anyone she found dark and brooding, but Laurie is a much better character. So is Mr. Brook, Grandpa Lawrence...you name it.
She also didn't trust the reader to follow her and over does her forshadow.
Do I sound harsh? I don't mean to. Really. In fact, I had to go back with my red pin. Originally I was pretty forgiving and, even of the ultimate sin: finding myself skipping pages, paragraphs, etc. But then I thought: Jane Eyre is good, The House of Mirth is good--others? Well, sure. There are lots. People, Sarah Orne Jewitt is good. I liked Ambrose Bearce better than this silliness.
It didn't have to be believable, but it did have to be interesting...this didn't do it for me. So I will save you time: read Rebecca by DuMaurier, instead. Read the 13th Tale, the Shadow of the Wind, even read ANNE RICE if you want a gothic brew-ha-ha...but save Alcott for Little Women and grab a kitten and your rag bag and eat some pop-overs while you read it and leave fair Rosamond on her isolated island.