A Critic's Meta Review: 4/5

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888). Published by planksip

Okay, okay - I will admit it. This book did not make me nearly as upset as Little Men made me. Was it because, perhaps, I was more prepared? Maybe...but, honestly, I wasn’t really any more prepared for this to be about what it was actually about than I was for the last one. This is probably because, during the time in between reading these two books, I took an extended vacation, rented a minivan, and drove it down to Reinhardt, TX - just north of Dallas - where I will be spending the next few months. This is not due to me having any family in the area, or the result of some long distance relationship that I finagled my way into through the black magic of online dating. No, I have voyaged to this godforsaken town (it really does smell atrocious here - no offense, guys, but consider equipping your stores with an additional deodorant aisle, for the sake of all us outsiders who have developed a more...refined...taste when it comes to the scent arising from another person’s pits) for one reason, and one reason only - the name.

Maybe my fixation on names is highly irrational; it very likely is, given how it has only led to my continued disappointment in the realm of nineteenth century works of children’s fiction. That being said, I simply could not bear to pass up the opportunity to study gypsy guitar in a town called Reinhardt. To me, it feels like the equivalent of studying classical antiquity in Athens, GA (or Rome, GA - take your pick), or pedophilia in Sandusky, OH. It just feels right.

All that being said, I am not very upset about this book not being centered around women with dwarfism, because that is not what I initially assumed it was about. Do you want to know what I thought this book was going to be about?



I thought it was going to be about those little Russian dolls - you know, the ones where you take the smallest one and you put it inside of the one that is slightly larger than it, and then put that one in the one that’s slightly larger than it, until you are out of dolls to stuff inside of dolls. What were they called again? Babushka dolls?

Yeah. That’s it. Anyway, I should have known better - the first babushka doll was not invented until over twenty years after the publication of this book. Silly me, assuming again.

When will I ever learn?

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888). Published by planksip

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