Reviews for March

Booklist Reviews 2005 February #1
Brooks' first novel (Year of Wonders, 2001) was a straightforward historical novel of the plague. For her second novel, she has come close to creating a new genre; she imagines the life of Captain March, the father in Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. This technique has been done before, most famously in Jean Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea. Brooks, however, has combined this idea with two other genres, historical fiction and fictionalized biography. The results, however, are mixed. March appears, much like Bronson himself, as a man whose convictions tread a thin line between admirable and aggravating. He is pure to the point of being ineffectual, and noble to the point of stupidity. The nineteenth-century writing style is accurate and entertaining, but it may be too ornate for some readers. The best moments in the narrative are the peeks inside the mind of the long-suffering Marmee, and thus we learn where Jo gets her famous spunk. ((Reviewed February 1, 2005)) Copyright 2005 Booklist Reviews.

BookPage Reviews 2005 March
An idealist at war

Geraldine Brooks fills in the blanks of Alcott's 'Little Women'

Like many women, Geraldine Brooks was inspired by Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, which she first read as a girl in Australia. Though her mother, whom Brooks calls "one of the world's great cynics," advised her to take it with a grain of salt ("nobody in real life is as goody-goody as that Marmee"), Brooks had a strong reaction to the book and its heroine, the irrepressible Jo March.

"I thought she was fantastic," Brooks recalls during a call to Australia, where she'd just spent the year with her husband, writer Tony Horwitz, and their eight-year-old son. "This really powerful girl character who's struggling to find her way creatively and to fit into the social restrictions that were so overwhelming . . . my situation was so different on the other side of the world and a century removed, but it just fired me up."

The events of Little Women take place while Mr. March is off serving in the Civil War. The original ending of the novel finds him safe at home with his family—but says next to nothing about his wartime experiences. "It's like Jane Austen and the Napoleonic Wars; it's just not the business of her books, but that was the background of their times," explains Brooks.

While Horwitz was researching Confederates in the Attic (1998), his best-selling book about the Civil War's legacy in the modern-day South, Brooks found that she had unwittingly become something of an expert on the War Between the States. "When he was writing that, a tremendous amount of our lives was consumed with Civil War trips. And I wasn't crazy about this for a long time. But suddenly somehow the stories of the individuals started to work on my imagination." Brooks became fascinated by the moral debate that took place in Waterford, the Virginia town where her family now lives, which was settled by Quakers in 1733. These pacifists "were passionate abolitionists, yet were part of the South. And then one day this light bulb went off in my head, and I was thinking, gee, Alcott's Little Women was really one of the first Civil War novels, and how would that [conflict] have played out for a man like March?"

March is the incredible result of these two converging trains of thought, though the novel touches only tangentially on Little Women. "I wouldn't have the hubris to attempt to rewrite Louisa May Alcott, so I've just taken the bit of the story she didn't want to deal with, for whatever complex, psychological or Freudian reasons," Brooks laughs. Her fascinating and meticulously researched novel imagines the Civil War experiences of Mr. March, whom she based on Alcott's own father. Brooks' March is an idealist and a man of faith whose convictions are challenged by the horrors of war. Faith in crisis is a topic that particularly interests Brooks, who wrote about an English village devastated by the plague in her first novel, Year of Wonders. "It is a theme I keep returning to. I'm intrigued by people who have strong beliefs, because I don't. I'm a spiritual quester, but I also think that you have to work very hard to make the ethical choice rather than the expedient one."

Deciding that the cause of abolition is worth the necessary evil of war, March enlists as a chaplain. He expects hardship, but the reality of battle is almost more than he can bear. March struggles to keep the disillusionment he feels from his daily letters home to the girls and Marmee, which are a marked contrast to the honest and, as a consequence, graphic, scenes of wartime life masterfully depicted by Brooks. These experiences are interspersed with March's recollections of his youth spent as a traveling salesman; his passionate courtship of the intelligent, fiery Margaret May (Marmee); and their married life as prominent citizens of Concord, Massachusetts, who rubbed elbows and exchanged thoughts with Emerson and Thoreau.

March's character is skillfully drawn through his own thoughts and actions, but Brooks rounds out his portrayal in the few brief chapters told through Marmee's eyes. Her practical voice is a marked contrast to that of her visionary husband, and she has difficulty accepting that March has concealed much of the truth of his experiences.

Idealistic men and their pragmatic female counterparts have appeared in both of Brooks' novels: is she making a larger statement about men and women? "That hadn't occurred to me, but I also think it's very true, and something that comes from my experiences of being a foreign correspondent in the Middle East [for the Wall Street Journal]. You'd have these fiery-eyed Islamic preachers like the Ayatollah telling everybody how it had to be, and then you'd have women actually having to feed their families and keep them safe through the consequences of that," she says. "Even in our comparatively luxurious circumstances, even in my own life as a writer, you might have a male novelist who feels free to go into some kind of, don't disturb me, I'm in my ivory tower out in the woods thing, but as a mother, the kid has to be dressed. So you're always tied into the practical world, and I think that's a good thing."

Brooks is content with her life in the practical world. Her family spends time each year ("ideally it'd be half-and-half") in Virginia and Australia, despite the 24-hour journey. "The only good thing about it is after you get used to coming back and forth to Australia, every other plane flight seems short!" She's working on another historical novel. "It's sort of insanely ambitious. It's the story of a [real-life] Hebrew manuscript that was created in 14th-century Spain and still exists today. I'm tracing it through the hands that held it. I love finding these stories in history where you know something, but you can't know everything, and so you've got the license to let your imagination fill in the voids." And she's looking forward to readers' responses to March. "I hope that people who love Little Women will see it as a respectful homage to Louisa May—books find new lives and new readers all the time." Copyright 2005 BookPage Reviews.

Kirkus Reviews 2005 January #1
Brooks combines her penchant for historical fiction (Year of Wonders, 2001, etc.) with the literary-reinvention genre as she imagines the Civil War from the viewpoint of Little Women's Mr. March (a stand-in for Bronson Alcott).In 1861, John March, a Union chaplain, writes to his family from Virginia, where he finds himself at an estate he remembers from his much earlier life. He'd come there as a young peddler and become a guest of the master, Mr. Clement, whom he initially admired for his culture and love of books. Then Clement discovered that March, with help from the light-skinned, lovely, and surprisingly educated house slave Grace, was teaching a slave child to read. The seeds of abolitionism were planted as March watched his would-be mentor beat Grace with cold mercilessness. When March's unit makes camp in the now ruined estate, he finds Grace still there, nursing Clement, who is revealed to be, gasp, her father. Although drawn to Grace, March is true to his wife Marmee, and the story flashes back to their life together in Concord. Friends of Emerson and Thoreau, the pair became active in the Underground Railroad and raised their four daughters in wealth until March lost all his money in a scheme of John Brown's. Now in the war-torn South, March finds himself embroiled in another scheme doomed to financial failure when his superiors order him to minister to the "contraband": freed slaves working as employees for a northerner who has leased a liberated cotton plantation. The morally gray complications of this endeavor are the novel's greatest strength. After many setbacks, the crop comes in, but the new plantation-owner is killed by marauders and his "employees" taken back into slavery. March, deathly ill, ends up in a Washington, DC, hospital, where Marmee visits and meets Grace, now a nurse. Readers of Little Women know the ending.The battle scenes are riveting, the human drama flat.Author tour Copyright Kirkus 2005 Kirkus/BPI Communications.All rights reserved.

Library Journal Reviews 2004 November #2
Brooks imagines what happened to March, father of Alcott's little women. With a ten-city author tour. Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Publishers Weekly Reviews 2004 December #3
Brooks's luminous second novel, after 2001's acclaimed Year of Wonders, imagines the Civil War experiences of Mr. March, the absent father in Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. An idealistic Concord cleric, March becomes a Union chaplain and later finds himself assigned to be a teacher on a cotton plantation that employs freed slaves, or "contraband." His narrative begins with cheerful letters home, but March gradually reveals to the reader what he does not to his family: the cruelty and racism of Northern and Southern soldiers, the violence and suffering he is powerless to prevent and his reunion with Grace, a beautiful, educated slave whom he met years earlier as a Connecticut peddler to the plantations. In between, we learn of March's earlier life: his whirlwind courtship of quick-tempered Marmee, his friendship with Emerson and Thoreau and the surprising cause of his family's genteel poverty. When a Confederate attack on the contraband farm lands March in a Washington hospital, sick with fever and guilt, the first-person narrative switches to Marmee, who describes a different version of the years past and an agonized reaction to the truth she uncovers about her husband's life. Brooks, who based the character of March on Alcott's transcendentalist father, Bronson, relies heavily on primary sources for both the Concord and wartime scenes; her characters speak with a convincing 19th-century formality, yet the narrative is always accessible. Through the shattered dreamer March, the passion and rage of Marmee and a host of achingly human minor characters, Brooks's affecting, beautifully written novel drives home the intimate horrors and ironies of the Civil War and the difficulty of living honestly with the knowledge of human suffering. Agent, Kris Dahl. 10-city author tour. (Mar. 7) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

School Library Journal Reviews 2005 July
Adult/High School-In Brooks's well-researched interpretation of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, Mr. March also remains a shadowy figure for the girls who wait patiently for his letters. They keep a stiff upper lip, answering his stiff, evasive, flowery letters with cheering accounts of the plays they perform and the charity they provide, hiding their own civilian privations. Readers, however, are treated to the real March, based loosely upon the character of Alcott's own father. March is a clergyman influenced by Thoreau, Emerson, and especially John Brown (to whom he loses a fortune). His high-minded ideals are continually thwarted not only by the culture of the times, but by his own ineptitude as well. A staunch abolitionist, he is amazingly naive about human nature. He joins the Union army and soon becomes attached to a hospital unit. His radical politics are an embarrassment to the less ideological men, and he is appalled by their lack of abolitionist sentiments and their cruelty. When it appears that he has committed a sexual indiscretion with a nurse, a former slave and an old acquaintance, March is sent to a plantation where the recently freed slaves earn wages but continue to experience cruelty and indignities. Here his faith in himself and in his religious and political convictions are tested. Sick and discouraged, he returns to his little women, who have grown strong in his absence. March, on the other hand, has experienced the horrors of war, serious illness, guilt, regret, and utter disillusionment.-Jackie Gropman, Chantilly Regional Library, VA Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.