Rereading Little House

As an inveterate rereader, I’ve regularly spent time with some beloved childhood heroines – Anne Shirley, Betsy Ray, Sara Stanley – as an adult. But until last winter, I hadn’t reread any Laura Ingalls Wilder books in at least 15 years.

Then (you may recall) it snowed and snowed and snowed – so I picked up The Long Winter, both to remind myself that the Ingalls had it far worse than we had, and to see if I could glean some of Laura’s and Pa’s “We’ll Weather the Blast” spirit. Rereading that book (and then reading the Laura-fan memoirs The Wilder Life and My Life as Laura) made me want to revisit the whole series, and I finally got around to that last month.

I didn’t keep detailed notes as I reread, but several things struck me:

First and foremost: these books are as magical as they ever were. This is the secret of a good children’s story: to paraphrase C.S. Lewis, the truly good books from childhood hold up well in adulthood. From the first “Once upon a time, sixty years ago” to the last “Golden years are passing by, happy, happy golden years,” these books had me in thrall as much as they did when I was seven or ten or twelve. I read avidly, sometimes finishing one a day. And I welled up multiple times – on the T, over lunch, in the privacy of my own home.

I reveled in the relationship between Pa and Laura. I know he loves all his girls (like my own sweet dad), but I loved watching her help him, watching them work hard and savor the pioneer life and keep their chins up together. She’s his favorite. They both feel stifled in the prairie towns and would be happy to keep going west, following their wanderlust to the very edge of the world. I can sympathize a little (as can every girl who ever fell in love with Laura). And his fiddle is always there to cheer and comfort, whenever things grow dark.

I remembered the early books – Little House in the Big Woods, Little House on the Prairie, On the Banks of Plum Creek – most vividly from my childhood readings. But this time I found myself drawn to the middle books, especially By the Shores of Silver Lake and The Long Winter. Laura is on the edge of so many transitions here – from pioneer girl to town girl, tomboy to young lady, child to woman. And yet she’s still free, free to ride black ponies with Lena and explore the high prairie and go ice skating with Carrie in the moonlight. She’s not yet quite bound to spend all her time either helping Ma or making money to send Mary to college. And the prairie itself is still fresh and new – vast and wild and ready to explore, with so much to be discovered. The middle books are all about possibility.

I was struck as I always am by the simplicity of the narratives. Laura’s language isn’t fancy, and there are few big, climactic events – but it doesn’t matter. Her descriptions are spot on and often breathtaking, and her characters quietly compelling. I love the Garth Williams illustrations, and the many songs she quotes from (I think we need a Little House songbook), and the family warmth and love that permeates the books.

Do you make a habit of rereading childhood favorites? What do you find in them now that you didn’t find in them as a child?

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