An Old-Fashioned Girl, by Louisa May Alcott

While other girls of my generation were reading and rereading Alcott's Little Women (my sister read it so many times that my parents hid it from her, fearing she was identifying with the sickly/dead Beth), I was reading An Old-Fashioned Girl over and over. Since classics for the Kindle are only 99 cents, I recently decided to reread this childhood favorite for the first time in 40 years.

Polly Milton, the title character, is nearly perfect. The daughter of a country pastor with a large family, Polly comes to visit her friend Fanny Shaw in the first chapters of the book. Polly is put in stark contrast to Fanny and her friends, who are privileged, shallow, fashion-obsessed gossips. All of the members of the Shaw family--including neglected Grandma, sickly Mother, remote Father, hell-raising brother Tom, and obnoxious little sister Maud--come to love Polly. And who wouldn't? She's a sweet ray of sunshine who gives them all the attention they don't get from their own kin--even though occasionally feeling condescended to by Fanny and her friends.

When we skip ahead six years, Polly is returning to the city to make her way as a music teacher. Having Polly travel between the worlds of her wealthy friends and the working women and impoverished families she encounters in her rooming house allows Alcott to provide considerable social commentary (see Favorite Passage below for an example). With echoes of Jane Austen Alcott, despite her apparent admiration for working girls, still ensures that Polly and Fanny are happily engaged by the end of the book.

So, why did I like this book so much as a preteen? In part, I think it was simply having a romantic view of the world (I still enjoy a good rom-com) strong enough to see poverty as somehow romantic (the part of the book I remembered most vividly, aside from Polly's learning that Tom loved her, was the "adventure" when the Shaws lost their money and had to learn how to live more modestly). Less positively, as the middle child of five, I think I may have identified with the somewhat put-upon Polly--though I certainly was never as cheerful as she. While I don't think I'll feel the need to reread this book again, I am wondering about a few of the other books I loved as a girl--I may have to do some more revisiting of my youthful obsessions.

Favorite passage:

. . . the most utterly fashionable life does not kill the heart out of women, till years of selfish pleasure have passed over their heads.