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A review by bluestjuice
Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott
4.0
Rose in Bloom is a part of my childhood canon, arguably my favorite of Louisa May Alcott's books. It continues to dig its sharp little talons into my heart, even though, reading it again at age 37, I have to concede that it is a flawed, contradictory piece of writing. Alcott's philosophical and ethical ideals are both a part and not a part of her time, leaving her in a queer position of writing moralistic tales that are decidedly unworldly in both a feminist, counter-cultural and a cringey, prim direction. Alcott seems cheerfully unaware of these conflicts, or at least is perfectly content to be found strange and boring, and to have her characters behave likewise.
Unlike other reviewers, I don't find Rose's character to be especially one-dimensional, and similarly the most prominent of the supporting characters, I think, are adequately developed - in particular Charlie, Mac, Uncle Alec, and Phebe get plenty of development here. Rose is good and loving and passionate and ambitious, while at the same time having no particular skills, which actually sets her a bit apart as a model female character in Alcott's vein. Talent, genius, and the distinctions between them are a central theme in much of her writing, and here as well, but this is something that Rose herself doesn't really get to be a part of. Instead, she is unremarkable except in her attitudes towards life and her successful navigation of relationships with others. In some ways, this offers a more accessible model for potential girl-children reading these novels: how many, especially in the 19th century, are likely to be talented enough to seriously style themselves after Jo's literary ambitions, or Amy's lofty artistic dreams? In an era when professions for women are few and far between, generally requiring exceptional skill in addition to uncharacteristic good fortune, Alcott makes a valiant play here to elevate the traditional sphere of feminine influence in a way that is not unworthy of her heroine's intellect and heart. I'm quite all right with that.
If the focus of the story is going to be ideal womanhood within a fairly traditional mold, then, the business of selecting a spouse and living well in the intervening time become center stage, and this is really the core around which the book unfolds. Unlike other marriage-market-centered fiction of the era, this is unique in not focusing on the logistical difficulties and machinations sometimes necessary to obtain aforementioned spouse - Rose has many suitors, plenty of proposals, and quite clearly could have been engaged within two or three chapters if that had been the point. Instead, this book does something quite different by allowing the reader to assume that Rose can and will eventually marry, and instead directing guidance and offering commentary on the process of discerning a good man from a bad one, counseling patience in the face of setbacks and difficulty in moving forward with an intended match, recovering from disappointment, and testing affections for durability. Alcott is also very much interested in offering her opinions about how a young woman can spend her unmarried time (spoiler: not going to loads of parties, frittering her time away, and spending money on luxuries), focusing on a woman's need to improve herself regardless of her status and charms, not for the direct purpose of acquiring a husband, but rather because she owes it to herself to become a fully realized person and the best version of herself.
Now, intertwined with all that rather excellent message (and to be clear, I think advice about identifying which men are projects you can't save and which are good partners, and how to focus on your own self-betterment without spending all your time swooning after boys are quite worthwhile, even today), there is a great deal of moral treatizing that doesn't hold up well, along with some rather cringeworthy behaviors from everyone involved. Rose adopting an orphan baby as a pet (and Kitty's even less successful imitation of it) raises eyebrows; so too does the way Charlie's social drinking is turned into a Terrible Vice and the way Rose is described as always busy, without actually seeming to have to do much that can be considered actual work (she even has a manager deal with all her apartment leases, because the poor women are too much trouble for her). In short, she spends most of her time doing the sort of unpaid emotional labor and household management that is getting a lot of attention right now as continuing to fall disproportionately on women, despite great advances in gender equality in other aspects of life.
Anyway, obviously I have whole reams of Opinions I can go on about at length regarding this book. In the end, I like it because Rose is likable, because she is trying to improve herself in ways I mostly don't disagree with, and because she falls for Mac, her best cousin, the transcendentalist bookworm, who has had my heart pretty much since I was thirteen. To be honest Rose isn't really half good enough for him, but they're perfect together anyway and I'm never going to be over it.
Unlike other reviewers, I don't find Rose's character to be especially one-dimensional, and similarly the most prominent of the supporting characters, I think, are adequately developed - in particular Charlie, Mac, Uncle Alec, and Phebe get plenty of development here. Rose is good and loving and passionate and ambitious, while at the same time having no particular skills, which actually sets her a bit apart as a model female character in Alcott's vein. Talent, genius, and the distinctions between them are a central theme in much of her writing, and here as well, but this is something that Rose herself doesn't really get to be a part of. Instead, she is unremarkable except in her attitudes towards life and her successful navigation of relationships with others. In some ways, this offers a more accessible model for potential girl-children reading these novels: how many, especially in the 19th century, are likely to be talented enough to seriously style themselves after Jo's literary ambitions, or Amy's lofty artistic dreams? In an era when professions for women are few and far between, generally requiring exceptional skill in addition to uncharacteristic good fortune, Alcott makes a valiant play here to elevate the traditional sphere of feminine influence in a way that is not unworthy of her heroine's intellect and heart. I'm quite all right with that.
If the focus of the story is going to be ideal womanhood within a fairly traditional mold, then, the business of selecting a spouse and living well in the intervening time become center stage, and this is really the core around which the book unfolds. Unlike other marriage-market-centered fiction of the era, this is unique in not focusing on the logistical difficulties and machinations sometimes necessary to obtain aforementioned spouse - Rose has many suitors, plenty of proposals, and quite clearly could have been engaged within two or three chapters if that had been the point. Instead, this book does something quite different by allowing the reader to assume that Rose can and will eventually marry, and instead directing guidance and offering commentary on the process of discerning a good man from a bad one, counseling patience in the face of setbacks and difficulty in moving forward with an intended match, recovering from disappointment, and testing affections for durability. Alcott is also very much interested in offering her opinions about how a young woman can spend her unmarried time (spoiler: not going to loads of parties, frittering her time away, and spending money on luxuries), focusing on a woman's need to improve herself regardless of her status and charms, not for the direct purpose of acquiring a husband, but rather because she owes it to herself to become a fully realized person and the best version of herself.
Now, intertwined with all that rather excellent message (and to be clear, I think advice about identifying which men are projects you can't save and which are good partners, and how to focus on your own self-betterment without spending all your time swooning after boys are quite worthwhile, even today), there is a great deal of moral treatizing that doesn't hold up well, along with some rather cringeworthy behaviors from everyone involved. Rose adopting an orphan baby as a pet (and Kitty's even less successful imitation of it) raises eyebrows; so too does the way Charlie's social drinking is turned into a Terrible Vice and the way Rose is described as always busy, without actually seeming to have to do much that can be considered actual work (she even has a manager deal with all her apartment leases, because the poor women are too much trouble for her). In short, she spends most of her time doing the sort of unpaid emotional labor and household management that is getting a lot of attention right now as continuing to fall disproportionately on women, despite great advances in gender equality in other aspects of life.
Anyway, obviously I have whole reams of Opinions I can go on about at length regarding this book. In the end, I like it because Rose is likable, because she is trying to improve herself in ways I mostly don't disagree with, and because she falls for Mac, her best cousin, the transcendentalist bookworm, who has had my heart pretty much since I was thirteen. To be honest Rose isn't really half good enough for him, but they're perfect together anyway and I'm never going to be over it.