Blogger: Wendy Lawton
Our Books & Such offices are closed for Christmas Break. We decided to choose some oldies but goodies to re-blog. This is a blog post I wrote several years ago but I still think about some of the beloved “good girl” books that I loved. Here goes:
The Bird’s Christmas Carol by Kate Douglas Wiggin was my all-time favorite children’s Christmas book. Written in 1888 it is the story of a girl born on Christmas day who is appropriately named Carol after the faint strains of Christmas carols her mother heard coming from a nearby church while giving birth. Her parents and family of brothers cherish Carol, who, rather than being spoiled by all the attention, is sensitive and generous. She is struck with an illness and by the time she is ten years old, she is bedridden with the fatal disease. But even struggling for her life her focus is on others and she is still concerned about all those who suffer.
Her last Christmas on earth Carol decides that instead of a birthday party she wants to give a party for the poor Ruggles family and their nine children. Her whole family helps make her wish come true before she quietly slips away listening to the same faint carols that ushered her into the world.
Sigh.
I know. It sounds like Victorian sentimentality but it is so much richer than I described it. Confession: all the books I loved as a child were good girl books. Wiggin was also the writer of another favorite, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. Pollyanna, Secret Garden, Anne of Green Gables—these were the books of my childhood. With today’s fare of madcap adventures, fantasy and gritty reality I’m all for a dose of kindness and sentimentality. This would be a great book to read with a middle grader.
In my days as a dollmaker I immortalized all the Childhood Classics® that were in the public domain or for which we could get a license. Bird’s Christmas Carol is no exception. In 1996 I sculpted Carol Bird exactly the way I pictured her when I was a bookish ten-year-old.
The last sentence of the book still moves me: “And so the old years, fraught with memories, die, one after another, and the new years, bright with hopes, are born to take their places; but Carol lives again in every chime of Christmas bells that peal glad tidings and in every Christmas anthem sung by childish voices.”
Writers tip: Though “sentimental” books for children are out of favor these days we need to learn from the classics. We loved them because we identified with the protagonists. Yes, the emotional aspects touched that maudlin part of us but it made us face the transitory state of our earthly lives and the importance of eternal life. All heady stuff to ten-year-olds.
Question: What about you? Did you have sentimental favorites from the late Victorian era, Christmas or not? What about good girl books? Are they still enjoyed by girls today? (Talk among yourselves, dear friends. I’m celebrating Christmas with my computer off.)
I’m not a girl, but…on a long night when we were stuck in a hotel room, Barbara decided to do a full make-up job on me. I knew things had gotten out of hand when she stepped back and said, “Oh. My. GOD!”, and when she tried to take a picture, the camera put a metaphorical hand over its eye and did not deign to function…the only time it’s ever done that. So I guess I DO get to comment on today’s post.
* As a child, I did not read the classic children’s books. I came to them much later, and found that on the far side of war, they had the power to move me deeply, because without sentimentality,there’s nothing worth dying for.
I have three boys…and I find them too sensitive to enjoy books like this. “What?” You ask. “I know that your boys make bridges between their top bunks of tippy mattresses and then make their little brother walk the plank. How is that sensitive?” Well, that is true, but they are still sensitive in that they want a happy ending. Action, sword fighting, mayhem, and a happy ending. Have you noticed that most action-filled boys books have a happy ending? They did enjoy half of Anne of Green Gables…we stopped before Matthew died and they were great with that. My oldest also read the Little House books, they had lots of cool parts about building stuff and skinning pigs, but we avoid sad books like the plague. In fact, I just read them my favorite trilogy (Inkheart books by Cornelie Funke) and had to warn them that while the middle book had sad parts at the end, the third book had a happy ending for the series. A chapter before we finished one of them said: “Momma, I can’t see how this is going to have a happy ending.” He was concerned. But it did and they were pleased. I wonder if enjoying sad books is a girl thing…no…because I tended to avoid sad books too, though occasionally for our book swap, my best friend makes me read them (where the red fern grows, the fault in our stars, and Izzy Willy Nilly) all these books came from our yearly “mean book exchange”. So what do you think? Girl books = sad books or not?
I suspect that girls – and women – are better equipped to deal with sad endings, through having greater emotional strength and resiliency.
I would go so far as to say that we need to teach children sentimentality, because those emotional bonds are the glue that makes life bearable. What is MORE sentimental than John 3:16?
* Seriously, think about it…the seculars want us to believe that life is a random dance of amino acids, and that the highest callings we feel are simply the herd instinct.
* I think they’re wrong. I think that we have an innate nobility that comes from Above, and that our lives matter to a degree that is not merely high, but crucial. We can’t see it,much as an individual thread in a tapestry can’t see the whole, but with sentimentality we cling to the threads around us…even striving to make the ones we don’t like ‘cling-able’…because in our hearts, we know it’s the right thing to do.
* And yes, sentimentality may end in tears, but tears end in their frying by the Hand that knows no fatigue.
And implicit in John 3:16 is the promise that EVERY ending can be happy…if we wish it to be.
Our girls loved all the good girl books or movies we could get our hands on. Me, too. Their tastes have expanded now … my oldest has just finished reading Katie Ganshert’s YA series, The Gifting and The Awakening. She’s moving on to book three. She really enjoyed them. And yesterday, while I was waiting in the car for my oldest, I read the ending of Becky Wade’s A Love Like Ours to my youngest daughter … she said, “Can I read that?” 🙂 She enjoyed it. It’s a good girl book, too. 🙂
I soaked up books like this as a child. I’m glad you mentioned Pollyanna. The poor thing gets a bad rap nowadays, but as a melancholy child myself, Pollyanna showed me how to look at the bright side. In a world that is determined to assign dark motives to people and to only see the bad side to events, we could use a little bit of her determined optimism. Or a lot 🙂
Love the way you put that, Sarah.
I would describe myself as a Pollyanna. I simply cannot not be. After enduring and surviving the bottomless black pit of depression, I refuse to look back down and dwell on where I came from. I keep my head up, as much as I can, and face the bright sky each and every day. even if it’s snowing, like it is now.
I lived like Eeyore. It was a nightmare. I’d rather live like Pollyanna.
I agree with you there, Jennifer. I have people telling me, “Well, you’ve got to look at giving up this or that…you won’t be able to do these things soon, and you’d better face facts.”
* But as life without optimism is intolerable, terminal illness without optimism is simply unendurable, and planning to be able to to the things I love, when better days come, is the only way to cross the Black Pit that tries to ensnare me. It takes a lot of intentional effort, and a LOT of looking at the sunny side of things.
* Even when it’s snowing, as it is now.
* So you can call me Pollyanna as well.
I love Pollyanna! We always use it in a good way around my home. The world tries to ruin everything good.
I ADORED the LM Montgomery books.
And yes, we Canadians are ridiculously proud of ‘our Anne girl’ and Lucy Maud.
And yes, I have been to Green Gables, and yes, the tourism industry on PEI (known to outsiders as Prince Edward Island) is hugely in debt to that legacy for its successes.
Anne always had hope.
Hope is good.
(And if you call me Carrots? Hello, slate over the head.)
Looks to me like your hair has turned into a really nice auburn.
Thank you very much. I call this shade “better living through chemistry”.
I still remember some of the books my teachers read To us right after lunch recess. They made good choices, some in the category you’re describing. I carried on the tradition and read to my students, some of the same books being mentioned here. This post is like a breath of fresh air. Some books have the power to nurture the soul. Thank you!
I loved the story of Pollyanna when I was little. I like a happy ending best, but sometimes the best stories have bittersweet and even very sad parts. I always read the whole thing to my kids. I cried when Pollyanna was crippled in an accident, but the example of how she went past depression to acceptance and the return of her hopefulness was a great example for all. My mother was over 74 when my son and daughter were born, so we prepared them for life’s sadness even when they were little. I told the truth when they asked, “Mommy, are you going to die?” Then I’d say, “Of course. Everyone dies, but you don’t have to worry about me doing it anytime soon. What matters is whether you love Jesus when you die. We’ll all be together again someday because we do.” When the first person they really loved died when they were 7 and 9, their grief was tempered by knowing that they would see Mr. Gil again someday. Life’s blows hurt less if you understand this life isn’t the whole thing and life goes on for those left behind. I think good books that provide examples of godly grief can help a child be better prepared.
I love this post, Wendy…and all the books you mentioned. 🙂 Little Women comes to mind too–I really don’t know how many times I’ve read that book, but it’s a lot. 🙂 Along with other Louisa May Alcotts like Eight Cousins, Rose in Bloom, An Old-Fashioned Girl, Jo’s Boys…I think it’s hard to estimate (or underestimate) the influence of those books on me.
I’ve loved reading everyone’s comments too…seems like in this world, while I deeply value (and try to write!) stories that tackle authenticity and the tougher sides of life, we also desperately need those doses of pure goodness and beauty, even if–or especially if–mingled with tears. And perhaps those two sides aren’t incompatible either.
Anyway…you’ve got my wheels turning this morning. Merry Fifth Day of Christmas, everyone! 🙂
I’m reading Little Men to my daughter now. We’re both enjoying it so much.
As a former children’s librarian in a rural public library district, I can attest that most of these sentimental girl books are still being read, and enough that I needed to replace worn copies at regular intervals.
I was delighted when the Penderwicks stories were published to much acclaim in 2009, with the original title winning the Newbery Award. They’re not as sentimental as the earlier stories, but still very wholesome and fun.
Hard to say if we will ever see books such as these break into the secular market again, but our society could sure benefit from it.
I refuse to equate cynicism with sophistication. It’s the fashion of our day to look down our noses at anything that hints of innocence or unalloyed emotion. We’re all so terribly disabused of illusions these days, so jaded, that we insist it’s the only viable way to be. This, too, will go out of style, I hope.
Thanks for this lovely post! I have just published a historical fiction novel that I hope will become a Good Girl Book for young and older readers alike: Panther Mountain: Caroline’s Story. It’s based on real events in my great-great-grandmother’s life before and during the Civil War. It’s my hope that readers will identify with Caroline and admire her courage in the face of violence and anarchy during the Civil War.