Book Review: The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott

I'll be honest: I didn't have the right attitude when I started this book. Historical fiction is not my thing. It's been ages since I read Little Women, and it wasn't a particular favorite of mine, so while I had a vague sentimental notion about Louisa May Alcott and What She Means (or Should) to Me, I had never thought to wonder much what her own life had been like. In addition, I don't do well with tales that interweave the imagined with the real; I either want all imagination or all reality. Color me easily confused.

So much for judging a book by its cover: this was the first novel I've truly enjoyed in months. After slogging through things too heavy or too esoteric or too greusome, Kelly O'Connor McNees's story and prose were just what I needed. McNees does a masterful job setting the stage of Alcott's austere life under a brilliant, eccentric, controlling father; I was quickly rooting for Alcott to get out from under her father's thumb just as she wished that for herself. Although I don't remember Little Women well, the relationship between Alcott and her sisters and mother as described by McNees brought back for me details of that story that I didn't realize still resided in my brain. And the Alcott McNees brings to life is one to whom any independent woman can relate. Just as many of us do, she struggles to reconcile her ambition with her devotion to her family and to strike a balance between her practical nature and her fiery emotions.

On of the touches I enjoyed the most was that McNees has done an impeccable job of research on this story. She includes vivid details of late nineteenth century life that make the whole story shine. I could see every detail on the dresses, taste the meals on the table, and imagine myself riding in a graceful buggy to the circus. Social relationships and norms of the time were given the same attention. The depth of those details were crucial to the success of the story for me, but they never felt heavy-handed or overdone.

Sure, I can find a few things to quibble about. Alcott's father, Bronson, was insufferable. This is not McNees's fault; I'm sure her research proved this to be true, and in some ways, his character quirks were fascinating. In other ways, I felt that I understood him fairly quickly and got tired of having to be annoyed by him over and over. By the same token, Alcott's mother felt weak and her character undeveloped. I would have liked to see more of her relationship with her daughters, although I recognize that this was not central to the story. Some of the burgeoning romance felt contrived and a little forced, but overall I thought the development of the very independent Alcott's relationship with Joseph Singer was quite believable. That McNees was able to make Alcott as strong and principled as she did yet still create a romance that did not compromise Louisa's principles is an achievement.

This book was released on April 1. It will be a great summer read if you can wait that long. It's quick and enjoyable, but smart. And even if you don't think the story's for you, I'm here to tell you: you're likely to be surprised.

Read more about the author and the book at Kelly O'Connor McNees's website.

Disclosure: I received an advance proof of this book from TLC Book Tours for my review. I was not otherwise compensated for my participation in their online book tour for this novel.

Book Review: Knock Yourself Up

Just over a month ago, I found out via Tertia that Louise Sloan was looking for bloggers to review her book Knock Yourself Up, "a primer for single women who are considering what it means to be a family and thinking about starting one on their own" (from the Avery press release). I was intrigued. I'm not the type of single mom by choice that is profiled in the book, but I am a single mom. While "choice" is not the word I'd use to describe my situation, at the time that I got pregnant, I did know that ultimately I was going to be caring for Maddie and Riley on my own. So I was curious about the experience of other women, including Louise (I'm going to pretend she's my BFF and call her Louise), who are raising kids as the sole parent. Frankly, I was hoping for some reassurance and some tips because oooooo boy, I could use them.

I'd heard of Knock Yourself Up before e-mailing Louise, and I knew there was some controversy about it. I contemplated reading up on the hubbub, but then I decided that I really didn't care. I can imagine that there are people up in arms about how awful it is for single women to have children. How terrible is is for kids to be without a father. How selfish it is for women to go it alone. (Am I right?) Regular readers of this blog know how I feel about all that. I decided that it was best to just dive in, blinders on, and not filter Louise's content through the lens of media hype.

Knock Yourself Up is part memoir, part girlfriend's guide, and, in small part, literature review. Louise makes the purpose of her book clear in her opening author's note, "Love Makes a Family." Research is cited when relevant, but the feel is not heavy-handed and the book is not meant to be a compendium of studies on single motherhood. For those who want a more academic look at the subject, Louise points the reader to some solid choices throughout the book and in the comprehensive bibliography.

Louise takes the reader from the decision-making process through the first year of single-motherhood and even a bit beyond. Along the way, she talks to 43 women from all walks of life. I admire that Louise made a sincere effort to talk to gay and straight women of all races, although the economic background of almost all of her interviewees are solidly middle class. An ability to laugh at the absurd prevails among Louise and the women she interviewed; anyone who can't laugh about exploding vials of semen is probably not going to relate to the tone. Luckily for me, I find humor in all kinds of unexpected places, and, as a college-educated professional, I was comfortable with the demographic of the women whose stories are featured.

Louise discusses in-depth many things that I did not have to consider due to my own situation. She devotes chapters to choosing a sperm donor, telling people that you're becoming a single mom, and how to get the support you need going through pregnancy and childbirth on your own. I learned quite a bit from those chapters, and laughed quite a bit, too. In the sections that were more relevant to me—those that dealt with fitting in a social life, balancing work and family, and dealing with finances—I found myself nodding my head a lot. Not that I agreed with or could identify with everyone or everything, but the overall experience rang true.

Louise's tone is warm, honest, and funny. She is totally without pretense. I could hear hear talking as I read, and could easily imagine that I was sitting in her kitchen or at a coffeehouse in Brooklyn chit-chatting with her and picking her brain about the ins and outs of parenting. At times, the tone was a little too rah-rah for me, a little too forced. And therein lies the only real issue I had with the book. I find being a single parent incredibly difficult. Most of the women in the book—Louise included—are surprised by how easy it is, or at least how much easier it is than they expected. My own experience has been that it's much harder than I would have guessed. I feel in my heart that I can't be alone in that, but the difficulties of single-parenting are not given deep treatment and the hard stuff feels a bit glossed over by the refrain "yes sometimes it's hard but I love my child so deeply that in the end, it doesn't matter." True. To a certain extent. But I, personally, would have appreciated a more in-depth look at challenges and coping strategies.

Louise acknowledges imbalance towards the positive in the book's final chapter, "Infinity and Beyond."

Yet I couldn't get the majority of the single moms I interviewed to go into any details about trying times. The most I could get from many of them was a chirpy, "It's hard—but it's great!" Even the women who had had experiences that were objectively really hard [ . . .] tended to put a positive spin on it.

The explanation? Positive attitude, gratitude, and a desire to "put a happy spin on their lives." I'd take it one step further. My personal feeling is that, as single mothers by choice, it's hard to say, "Hey, I decided to do this really hard thing—want to listen to me complain about how hard and non-ideal it is?" There is so much criticism directed towards single mothers by choice that discussing the real difficulties that are inherent to the situation can feel like adding fuel to the fire.

That said, there are plenty of books and blogs out there to support overwhelmed mothers, but there aren't that many cheering squads for single moms by choice. Louise does an excellent job of providing encouragement to women who are making or have already made the choice to be single moms. To use a hackneyed word, Knock Yourself Up made me feel empowered. It was breathtaking to me to read about how much these women love being parents, even how much they love being single parents. One woman interviewed even feels that single-parent homes are preferable to two-parent families. As explained by Louise, "for her, single motherhood is, by definition, much better for the kids because they are the number-one priority, and they aren't exposed to the conflict that so often arises in modern marriages when romantic expectations clash with child-rearing realities." That's admittedly extreme, but was definitely food for thought. Other interviewees offered plenty of the reassurance and tips I had been hoping to find.

Ultimately, what's there not to admire about women who have made a difficult decision and found myriad ways to make it work for themselves and their children? Knock Yourself Up made me feel proud and accomplished, as an individual and as a woman. For anyone who is considering single motherhood or who wants to understand what it's all about (at least the good stuff!), Knock Yourself Up is an excellent resource, and just a darn good read. If you're anything like me, by the end, you'll be wishing that Louise and her son Scott really were you and your kids' respective BFFs.