REREAD: Eight Cousins
Aug. 7th, 2019 08:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feather_ghyllEight Cousins: Louisa M. Alcott, Rupert Hart-Davies, 1965.
Alcott is most famous for ‘Little Women’ and the series that followed. I read those classics as a child, but not only did I first read this book as an adult, I have a feeling that I read it after its sequel. ‘Rose in Bloom’. I hope to reread that next - in fact, that’s my bribe to get myself to read a realist literary novel - after being charmed by my reunion with Rose, her seven boy cousins and, indeed, all her family.
The title is a striking hook, and the book does deal with what it’s like for Rose, an only child, to become one of those eight cousins. The book is subtitled ‘or The Aunt-Hill’. Neither of those titles exactly capture what the book is about for me, perhaps something along the lines of the sequel like ‘Rose in a New Garden’ or ‘Rose on the Hill’ would have been better. For before we meet the seven boy cousins, Rose strikes up a friendship with the young maid Phebe, who is only a little older than her. Although the aunts, aunts by both blood and marriage, and great-aunts are influential figures, they are superseded by uncle Alec. The concern of the adult characters and the book is how best to bring up thirteen and a half year old Rose.
Having lost her mother young, her father meant a good deal to Rose. His recent death has made her uncle Alec, a stranger to her, her guardian. She had been sent to school, but was unhappy there, and came to live with great-aunts Plenty and Peace, who followed the advice of Rose’s various aunts. As a result, Rose is not particularly healthy or happy. But fortunately Alec Campbell is a doctor, and having come home from foreign travels, he proposes that he rears Rose along his own lines, with no interference for a year, and then the aunts can judge the results. At least one of them fears Rose has no constitution and is not too long for this world.
There’s a didactic element to this book, to an extent that I don’t remember in ‘Little Women’, where Alcott feels the need to weigh in as an author, instead of letting the influence of various aunts on their sons, contrasted with Alec’s treatment of his niece and, indeed, his nephews, speak for themselves. I always remember being shocked by the corset scene, as a late twentieth-century girl, but it would be the case that a growing teenage girl of Rose’s class would have been imprisoned in a corset then. At that time, Alec’s course of treatment would have been radical. Rose is allowed to, and indeed encouraged to, exercise regularly and wear clothes that enable that. She mingles with her cousins, who are nowhere near as rough and frightening as she first thought. Her education goes back over the basic skills of writing neatly, doing arithmetic correctly and learning housekeeping, although she’s an heiress. She is taught about her physiology and to mind her morals. The dust-jacket blurb suggests that this was Louisa advocating her father’s views here, and the book should probably be considered in conjunction with ‘Little Men’.
But it’s not too much hardship to follow Rose for a year, as the grieving, bored and lonely girl, overly fond of ‘foundling stories’ finds her place in the family. It is more or less stated that the reason Alec kept his distance from his brother George was Rose’s mother, of the same name, and he never married again because of her.
Although Rose’s first friend is actual foundling Phebe, with both girls teaching each other naturally, her cousins are a big part of her new life. Rose has the most to do with the older boys, ‘Chief’ Archie, who is the leader, winsome ‘Prince’ Charlie who Rose wants to keep at bay when he calls her ‘little’, Mac the non-frivolous bookworm, ‘Dandy’ Steve, and the youngest cousin Jamie. How they influence each other is a big part of the book – but, looking ahead to ‘Rose in Boom’, which, remember, I read first, and which deals with a potential mate for Rose from the clan, it’s noticeable that, following eye-strain that puts his sight in danger, it is Mac, the sometimes growly boy who least attracted her at first, that Rose spends the most time with here, with both of them learning the best of each other through tribulations. Yes, I know, they’re first cousins.
Rose is a likeable character, excited by trifles and a little vain, but very sensitive under it all, and longing to be loved – there’s a telling vignette at Christmastime. Her family all feel the charge of bringing her up healthy, both physically and morally, given her father’s death. They make mistakes, as does she – she’s no paragon, but good, charitable instincts bloom in her. It doesn’t have the autobiographical authenticity of ‘Little Women’ or quite the powerful mix of humour and ecstasies that make Montgomery’s heroines so attractive, but if you’re in the mood for something that may seem old-fashioned now, but examines an ageless question – the rearing of our young – in a wholesome way, you could do worse (as I have over the years!)
This edition features illustrations by Rodney Shackell. My favourites weren’t the full-page ones, but the smaller ones at the end of chapters, usually of objects that had had some import.
Alcott is most famous for ‘Little Women’ and the series that followed. I read those classics as a child, but not only did I first read this book as an adult, I have a feeling that I read it after its sequel. ‘Rose in Bloom’. I hope to reread that next - in fact, that’s my bribe to get myself to read a realist literary novel - after being charmed by my reunion with Rose, her seven boy cousins and, indeed, all her family.
The title is a striking hook, and the book does deal with what it’s like for Rose, an only child, to become one of those eight cousins. The book is subtitled ‘or The Aunt-Hill’. Neither of those titles exactly capture what the book is about for me, perhaps something along the lines of the sequel like ‘Rose in a New Garden’ or ‘Rose on the Hill’ would have been better. For before we meet the seven boy cousins, Rose strikes up a friendship with the young maid Phebe, who is only a little older than her. Although the aunts, aunts by both blood and marriage, and great-aunts are influential figures, they are superseded by uncle Alec. The concern of the adult characters and the book is how best to bring up thirteen and a half year old Rose.
Having lost her mother young, her father meant a good deal to Rose. His recent death has made her uncle Alec, a stranger to her, her guardian. She had been sent to school, but was unhappy there, and came to live with great-aunts Plenty and Peace, who followed the advice of Rose’s various aunts. As a result, Rose is not particularly healthy or happy. But fortunately Alec Campbell is a doctor, and having come home from foreign travels, he proposes that he rears Rose along his own lines, with no interference for a year, and then the aunts can judge the results. At least one of them fears Rose has no constitution and is not too long for this world.
There’s a didactic element to this book, to an extent that I don’t remember in ‘Little Women’, where Alcott feels the need to weigh in as an author, instead of letting the influence of various aunts on their sons, contrasted with Alec’s treatment of his niece and, indeed, his nephews, speak for themselves. I always remember being shocked by the corset scene, as a late twentieth-century girl, but it would be the case that a growing teenage girl of Rose’s class would have been imprisoned in a corset then. At that time, Alec’s course of treatment would have been radical. Rose is allowed to, and indeed encouraged to, exercise regularly and wear clothes that enable that. She mingles with her cousins, who are nowhere near as rough and frightening as she first thought. Her education goes back over the basic skills of writing neatly, doing arithmetic correctly and learning housekeeping, although she’s an heiress. She is taught about her physiology and to mind her morals. The dust-jacket blurb suggests that this was Louisa advocating her father’s views here, and the book should probably be considered in conjunction with ‘Little Men’.
But it’s not too much hardship to follow Rose for a year, as the grieving, bored and lonely girl, overly fond of ‘foundling stories’ finds her place in the family. It is more or less stated that the reason Alec kept his distance from his brother George was Rose’s mother, of the same name, and he never married again because of her.
Although Rose’s first friend is actual foundling Phebe, with both girls teaching each other naturally, her cousins are a big part of her new life. Rose has the most to do with the older boys, ‘Chief’ Archie, who is the leader, winsome ‘Prince’ Charlie who Rose wants to keep at bay when he calls her ‘little’, Mac the non-frivolous bookworm, ‘Dandy’ Steve, and the youngest cousin Jamie. How they influence each other is a big part of the book – but, looking ahead to ‘Rose in Boom’, which, remember, I read first, and which deals with a potential mate for Rose from the clan, it’s noticeable that, following eye-strain that puts his sight in danger, it is Mac, the sometimes growly boy who least attracted her at first, that Rose spends the most time with here, with both of them learning the best of each other through tribulations. Yes, I know, they’re first cousins.
Rose is a likeable character, excited by trifles and a little vain, but very sensitive under it all, and longing to be loved – there’s a telling vignette at Christmastime. Her family all feel the charge of bringing her up healthy, both physically and morally, given her father’s death. They make mistakes, as does she – she’s no paragon, but good, charitable instincts bloom in her. It doesn’t have the autobiographical authenticity of ‘Little Women’ or quite the powerful mix of humour and ecstasies that make Montgomery’s heroines so attractive, but if you’re in the mood for something that may seem old-fashioned now, but examines an ageless question – the rearing of our young – in a wholesome way, you could do worse (as I have over the years!)
This edition features illustrations by Rodney Shackell. My favourites weren’t the full-page ones, but the smaller ones at the end of chapters, usually of objects that had had some import.
