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booksmellers's review
emotional
funny
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
I tend to underestimate classic literature.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing. If I have low expectations of a book, I'm actually more likely to enjoy it (go figure). But you would think after taking two different classic American lit classes two semesters in a row, I would have figured out, that hey, maybe I do like classics? On the other hand, the doubtful side of me wonders if the only reason I've liked the classics I've read for class is because it's kind of like being in a book club and hearing my classmates' perspectives on the story excites me. Either way, I do think my skepticism is beneficial to these types of books because it leaves me pleasantly surprised.
I read this one for my American Renaissance class. I had no idea what to expect from it. The description is really vague, so all I really knew was that it was a slice-of-life coming-of-age tale. A lot of people compare the writing to Charlotte Brontë, and even Emily Dickinson, but given I haven't read either of these authors, it didn't tell me much. My teacher does also compare it to Hannah Foster's The Coquette, and I do agree they have similarities.
For me, part of the fun of this book was the lack of expectation. Even when I was in the story, I really didn't know where it was going. It continually surprised me. There was a lot of dry, dark humor. A lot of weird drama that I couldn't always figure out. Half of the genius of this book is everything Stoddard leaves out; there are moments of intense detail, and the next moment it's total ambiguity.
When reading this book, it continually brought me back to Alcott's Little Women. I'm not sure why. They're not really all that similar. But they were just similar enough that it was a legit comparison in my head. Picture this: Meg and Jo are condensed into one character (that's Cassandra). Beth and Amy are actually one character (that's Veronica). Cassandra and Veronica are more well-off than the March sisters (financially), are much more goth, and have a much more realistic love-hate sisterly relationship. The didactic storytelling is dialed waaaaay down, and the plot is generally much darker (I would give more details, but I don't want to spoil anything - like I said, the fun is in the unexpected). But at its heart, it's a tale about family, navigating who you are, and finding contentedness.
So, yeah. I definitely liked this one. There were a couple problems I had. The author does come from a relatively privileged background, and that does show occasionally (especially the few times race is brought up - yikes). But it does offer an interesting perspective on class, gender, sexuality, and their intersections during a time when there were few female writers who could tell their own story.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing. If I have low expectations of a book, I'm actually more likely to enjoy it (go figure). But you would think after taking two different classic American lit classes two semesters in a row, I would have figured out, that hey, maybe I do like classics? On the other hand, the doubtful side of me wonders if the only reason I've liked the classics I've read for class is because it's kind of like being in a book club and hearing my classmates' perspectives on the story excites me. Either way, I do think my skepticism is beneficial to these types of books because it leaves me pleasantly surprised.
I read this one for my American Renaissance class. I had no idea what to expect from it. The description is really vague, so all I really knew was that it was a slice-of-life coming-of-age tale. A lot of people compare the writing to Charlotte Brontë, and even Emily Dickinson, but given I haven't read either of these authors, it didn't tell me much. My teacher does also compare it to Hannah Foster's The Coquette, and I do agree they have similarities.
For me, part of the fun of this book was the lack of expectation. Even when I was in the story, I really didn't know where it was going. It continually surprised me. There was a lot of dry, dark humor. A lot of weird drama that I couldn't always figure out. Half of the genius of this book is everything Stoddard leaves out; there are moments of intense detail, and the next moment it's total ambiguity.
When reading this book, it continually brought me back to Alcott's Little Women. I'm not sure why. They're not really all that similar. But they were just similar enough that it was a legit comparison in my head. Picture this: Meg and Jo are condensed into one character (that's Cassandra). Beth and Amy are actually one character (that's Veronica). Cassandra and Veronica are more well-off than the March sisters (financially), are much more goth, and have a much more realistic love-hate sisterly relationship. The didactic storytelling is dialed waaaaay down, and the plot is generally much darker (I would give more details, but I don't want to spoil anything - like I said, the fun is in the unexpected). But at its heart, it's a tale about family, navigating who you are, and finding contentedness.
So, yeah. I definitely liked this one. There were a couple problems I had. The author does come from a relatively privileged background, and that does show occasionally (especially the few times race is brought up - yikes). But it does offer an interesting perspective on class, gender, sexuality, and their intersections during a time when there were few female writers who could tell their own story.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Death, Misogyny, Racial slurs, Sexism, and Grief