This was a childhood favourite.
Maybe because my own world was a little topsy turvy did it seems the the world of the March’s was a lovley place to inhabit.
Their trials were there for sure…but the loving unit they presented…it seemed a magical place to inhabit to me.
So it was with great expectations that I opened the first page.
By page two I knew I was in trouble.
The characters are still great. I still adore Jo, Beth, Meg and Amy. Mr Lawrence still makes me smile…but.
Perhaps because I am now an adult and cynical the truly GOOD parts of the book seem a little fanciful to me now.
The women I know marry the rich guy and end up bitter and twisted. A beloved sister dying doesn’t open up the writer’s soul in another but sends her in to a drunken spiral.
Yet I was not giving up. Tempted as I was to return to reading the “” I persisted.
Somewhere around Amy falling in to the icy pond and Mr Lawrence delivering his dead daughter’s piano to Beth it began.
The March’s world settled lightly upon my mind and its tendrils wound their way in to my soul once more and I remembered.
I struggled with the girls as they tried to be selfless. I understood their questions about what their places in their world meant to them and to others. My heart grasped their great love for their parents and the drive to win their love and approval.
I relearned some old lessons. Not to give up too easily. To search for the shadowy nuances that they can reveal themselves to you. I remembered that there is good everywhere if we push aside the curtain to reveal it to ourselves.
Thank you for all your support.