To be fair, Laura and Pa are presented as being intrigued by the Indians and not at all subscribing to the general philosophy of Ma (and I believe Mary). Not that Laura was some kind of Anti-Bias Curriculum espouser, but her attitude–which is the one the reader is invited to adopt for him- or herself–is a good deal less fierce and less uncompromising.
As I remember the books, there was a clear line drawn between the brave, competent, and adventurous Laura and Pa and the moralistic, prim, fearful, propriety-loving Ma and Mary.
I also have personal experience with the stoic, self-controlled, and rather pitiless agrarian culture of the upper Great Plains. It all seemed natural to me as a child reader. The romantic evocation of the wild unbroken prairies has stayed with me to this day.
The one thing I recall from LHITBW was Laura’s comment that she never saw her mother’s ears. That’s probably the source of one of my standard shens - telling people in all seriousness that I don’t have ears. They’ll laugh, double-take, frown, and say “Really?”… and I owe it all to that creepy passage about Ma Ingalls’ invisible ears.
Think I could sue?
I remember being (and still am) incredulous that Pa could at one time span Ma’s waist with his hands. Even if she had a Scarlet-O’Hara-tiny 18" waist, wouldn’t his hands have had to be huge?
There’s this one scene I never could make heads or tails of.
This indian family is passing by and Laura goes crazy over their baby and begs her mom to give her the baby. The other lady’s baby. Ma is like “no. and hush.” and Laura keeps insisting she has to have the baby.
What the heck was that all about?
For what it’s worth, in Little House on the Prarie, Pa agrees with you. He “figures that Indians would be as peaceable as anybody else if they were let alone. On the other hand, they had been moved west so many times that naturally they hated white folks. But an Indian ought to have sense enough to know when he was licked.”
Kind of related…in Cheaper by the Dozen, one of the kids just disappears from the story. After doing some research, I found that she died, but it’s never mentioned in the book. Of course they have no problem making little kids sob when The dad dies
So in reality they never did have 12 kids alive at the same time.
The thing I found most disturbing as a girl was when, in The First Four Years, the Boasts ask Laura and Almanzo for their baby. Apparently, this was a real thing, though, in that place and time. Laura doesn’t include it in her books, but when the family was living in Burr Oak, some other family asked if they could keep Laura for their own.
Also, the best conclusion that can be drawn from the evidence is that the stories were Laura’s, that she wrote them, and Rose provided editorial advice and assistance. Rose seems to have done more editing of some books than others.
I remember noticing that too when I read the book. The sequel, Belles on Their Toes, has a footnote explaining how and when Mary (the second oldest I believe?) died. There was also a chapter called Completely Dead. Oh my goodness, I thought, another Gilbreth bites the dust, but the chapter didn’t involve anybody dying.
Though it’s been decades since I read them, I remember LHOTP series as an idealized family. They cared for one another and worked together- doing chores and sewing for hope chests.
After reading the above, maybe my family is worse than I thought.
When my grandmother was about four years old the town/county she and her family were living in had an epidemic of some kind of fever(diptheria?). Anyway, my great-grandmother was worn out caring for her children and husband who were sick. Luckily, for some reason, my grandma was not ill. So she was sent to live with friends of the family, a childless couple who were also still well. Grandma once told me she never forgot them “They treated me like a little princess!” They like her so well, they asked to adopt her, as she had five other siblings and maybe she could be “spared” This disturbed my great-grandmother so much that she immediately had her daughter brought home.
One thing I noted about the books, even as a child, was that outhouses, or how people “took care of business” were never once discussed. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the books then and still do.
She is mentioned by name once (Mary), and there’s a brief note in the sequel that she died young. There’s a little more about the diphtheria epidemic that killed her in the third, slightly more biographical book. There is a character representing her in the 1948 movie, but she never speaks.
What’s not mentioned anywhere in the three books is that Lillian also had one late miscarriage, for a total of thirteen pregnancies. The stillborn was buried in Providence, where they lived at the time. What’s really interesting is that this is the basis for the bit in CBTD where the kids all burst in wanting to know where the new baby is, and it turns out that “Mama was just sick.” She really was pregnant, but whether any of the children ever knew before much later is open to question. (The miscarriage was caused by a fall down a staircase, by the way, so overall her astonishing ability to bear healthy children is unmarked.)
Of course, the really interesting thing about Mary’s death is… but we were talking about Laura Ingalls Wilder.
Speaking of giving away/fostering out children, in All Mine TO Give (the movie referenced above starring Glynis Johns and Cameron Mitchell), apparently not only did Robbie Aunson have to find homes for his 5 siblings on Christmas Day (an article I read said that Robbie and Jimmie were sort of calculated in figuring people would be more willing to take in an orphan on Christmas) later Robbie’s wife died and he handed is firstborn over to a wealthy family to raise for years. That child became an editor as Cosmo(politan) and wrote the story of his father and grandparents in a story for Cosmo. The kids all kept in touch.
StG
It IS weird, but I always remember it was a very powerful scene, too. I’ve always taken it as Laura’s fascination with another world, or in a literary sense, with “the Other.” Her longing for the baby might be a way of trying to make a lasting connection with something that she inherently realized was very removed from her self and her experience. I read an article recently that was very critical of his passage, reading it in a very colonizing way … I agreed with a lot of the points but maybe not the entire interpretation, still it was a very interesting take on it. If I can find the link again, I’ll share it.
Outside of the fact that she’s talking about A BABY, I find the incident very evocative of that experience in childhood when we want something but can’t at all articulate why. I recall coveting a doll chair that one of the neighborhood girls had. I couldn’t explain why THAT chair was so important, I had doll furniture of my own, but I still remember something about that particular doll chair struck me as so perfect. It was much more than “ooh, I wish I had that toy!” – it was like a recognition of something special only to me.
Actually the village intended to take the children immediately, (All Mine to Give), but the older child begged that they wait till after Christmas. It was the Dying mother’s scheme, she wanted the family to decide where they should go, instead of going into an out of town orphanage.
She wanted him to decide. She reasoned they were his to give, and he did!
Isn’t there a bit in Farmer Boy where it’s very briefly mentioned that Bill Ritchie and his friends beat the previous teacher to death? Right before the chapter where Mr. Corse beats the shit out of them in front of the whole school.
My parents let me read the first four books when I was 6-7 but wanted me to wait on the later ones until I was a little bit older. The opening scenes of By the Shores of Silver Lake where they’re all half-dead, Mary has just gone blind, and the family is totally broke are quite heavy.
I think that episode was called “Sylvia” and holy shit do I ever remember it! There was so much wrong with it that I think it’s permanently burned in my brain.
Laura ran away to the mountains and met God (Ernest Borgnine.)
The very last episode where Walnut Grove went with a bang. It was the most WTF series ender I ever saw.
But there is a scene when Pa and several De Smet men all do a blackface minstrel show, singing about being darkies.
And they would have seen absolutely nothing wrong with it; such were the times. That sort of thing was perfectly acceptable for a lot longer than you probably think: