Here’s an interesting thing to discover online, full text copy of Rose Wilder Lane’s book Discovery of Freedom in a downloadable PDF. If you’re curious to read this book, here’s your chance: Just follow this link… I opened up the PDF and took a quick look. It appears safe–my virus software (which is the best) didn’t twitch.
Yes, I censored the title for this review. Avert your eyes now if you don’t want to see the uncensored title of this book!
Shocked I was, I tell you, shocked to see the pink cover with that title pop up on Amazon when I was doing a routine search of “Laura Ingalls Wilder” to see what new books or DVDs might have come out. Then I thought it might be some self-published teenaged angst tale trying to cash in on the Laura market. But, no, this is a for-real, legitimate book, and a very well-reviewed one, at that.
Confessions of a Prairie Bitch: How I Survived Nellie Oleson and Learned to Love Being Hated is the memoir of Alison Arngrim, the actress who played Nellie Oleson on the Little House on the Prairie television series. This book is one of three recent memoirs by the primaries in the young cast of “Little House”, and this is, by far, the one getting the best reviews.
Melissa Gilbert’s Prairie Tales is not about her time on the “Little House” series. In fact, those years are only briefly touched upon. Melissa Anderson’s entry, The Way I See It: A Look Back at My Life on Little House is very poorly reviewed, being regarded as nothing more than a rather dull episode guide. So, though I have a copy of Prairie Tales, it’s Confession of a Prairie Bitch I will be looking forward to receiving in the mail.
Beyond the Prairie: True Story of Laura Ingalls Wilder
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule
Beyond the Prairie: True Story of Laura Ingalls Wilder, released on DVD November 23, 2010, is a made-for-TV movie from 2000 which intended to return the story of Laura and the Little Houses to their true origins. The Little House on the Prairie television series had drifted radically from the books and so this movie planned to take the story of Laura from age 14 to adulthood back to the “true” story.
“True” is apparently a relative term.
First an admission: I didn’t make it to the end of the movie. The promos for it, back in 2000, had me completely intrigued. They made a big thing of showing an accurate version of Laura’s engagement ring as a clue that “they know the real story”, but from the beginning the flaws and diversions from reality screamed at me too loudly. It wasn’t so much the major diversions from the storyline in the books which bothered me as the smaller indications that the entire production failed to understand Laura, her family, and her story.
I’m a television person. I’ve worked in television for thirty-odd years, with a film school education before that. So what I saw said to me those putting this production together had no love for, nor understanding of, the subject. A movie of this sort is far more involved that the story and script. It’s possible the script writer had a love for the Little House stories, but from his IMDB listing, I think it rather more likely he was a contract script writer hired because he did western historical work. Nevertheless, no matter how good and accurate the script, what we see on the screen is the product of a huge number of others and if they’re not all in sync and in understanding of the subject, you’ll see their interpretations of what the story is or should be. Casting. Costuming. Set decoration. All these, and more, go into the story as we see it.
Case in point: The movie starts in the Ingalls home on the prairie in South Dakota. You see the characters you’d expect to see in period costumes. Except — and this is a huge ‘except’ — any reader of Laura’s books knows immediately this is NOT a home Caroline “Ma” Ingalls would have made. How would we know? The curtains were crooked. The hems at the bottom of the curtains looked like they were sewn by someone who had no knowledge of sewing. They were crooked, shoddy, wrinkly, and a bit grubby. In that moment they blew the “true” scenario away and showed they didn’t understand Laura or her family.
The casting was… odd. Richard Thomas as Charles “Pa” Ingalls could have been okay but something has happened to his voice and the deep, harsh, raspy voice in no way said this was the Pa who twinkled and sang along with his violin. No insult to the actress who played Laura — she could have been fine in the role — but she didn’t play it as the Laura we know from the books. The script and direction would be at fault there. Her costuming was wrong, wrong, wrong. She wore a scruffy man’s hat. What was that about? Did no one but the scriptwriter read any of the books? Her hair was short, loose, and stringy. And, worse, she was a blond. As anyone who has read the books knows that is a major, significant no-no.
So what we saw from the start was a visualization of Laura’s Little House stories that converted them from people who lived as clean, hard-working people with intelligence and skills, though they were poor, into a generic stereotypical view of poor pioneers as being unskilled and quaint just as artificial as a fake ‘distressed’ antique finish on a new piece of furniture. It was insulting to us who have read Laura’s works, and to Laura and her family.
Even as I write this there are three very positive 5-star reviews on Amazon for this DVD movie (which is part 1 only, part 2 which I never saw came out two years later). Decide for yourself and add your own review here in the comments section.
|The Ghost in the Little House: A Life of Rose Wilder Lane (Missouri Biography)
by William V. Holtz
Review by Deb Houdek Rule
Review of Ghost in the Little House:
“Ghost in the Little House” is a biography of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s only daughter, Rose Wilder Lane. It is rather controversial among Laura’s fans as a major premise of the book is that Rose, not Laura, was the real writer of the beloved Little House series of books.
If, when you’re reading this website, you are offended by things like the reference to the new Martha and Charlotte book series as “Little House in the Ice Age,” or you take umbrage to the page saying the area technically defined as the Big Woods did not include the “Little House in the Big Woods” (I have been taken to task by readers here for these very things), then by no means should you even attempt to read “Ghost in the Little House.” You’ll just end up angry and offended. On the other hand, if the “Little House in the Ice Age” crack gave you even a twitch of a smile, then you could probably read “Ghost in the Little House” with interest and, for the most part, enjoyment.
Make no mistake, this book is a biography of Rose, from Rose’s perspective and reflecting Rose’s sensibilities. It is not an homage in any way to Laura or Almanzo Wilder, nor does it attempt to offer any sort of balance or fairness in their portrayal. The way you will read about them in this biography of their daughter is not the way you will have come to know them from the Little House books, nor from any biographies focusing on Laura. Instead, the focus is from a daughter who was often angry, bitter, and resentful of her parents–particularly her mother. Picture the most angst-ridden outpourings of a troubled teenager against her parents and you’ll be able to visualize the overriding tone presented as Rose’s view of her mother. Laura (called “Mama Bess” throughout, the appellation Rose used for her mother most of her life) is portrayed as calculating and wholly manipulative as concerns her daughter. Was Laura really? Or were these just Rose’s perceptions as an only child with a strong, yet deeply resented, sense of responsibility to care for her parents.
As the perspective and sympathies of the book lie with Rose, the flip side of this coin is somewhat shadowy. But, if you look, you can see clearly that the passive aggressive manipulation between mother and daughter quite thoroughly went both ways. As Laura seems to be trying to manipulate Rose into guilt-ridden financial support of them, you can also see Rose rather arrogantly trying to change her parents’ lives to suit her own notions of how they should live. As an example, Rose at one point works out a plan whereby she could move Laura and Almanzo to England to live out their days in a country house there. Then Rose could live in Europe and visit them occasionally without the need to spend time in Mansfield, Missouri–a place she apparently never liked. When they refused to comply with this remaking of their lives, Rose instead built an English cottage on Rocky Ridge Farm and moved Laura and Almanzo into it. She, then, took over their house and started remodeling it to suit her tastes. If you’ve visited Rocky Ridge Farm–where both of these houses are open to the public–you can easily see that, while the English cottage is a nice house, it just isn’t the type of house that would suit Laura and Almanzo.
This theme of resented obligation, and manipulation, runs throughout the book and through Rose’s life. Though the author stuck with the premise that Laura was manipulative of Rose, the other examples, honestly given in the narrative, show the pattern was more so that of Rose’s. She repeatedly tried to “buy” affection of people and then used that coinage as a leverage to try to run their lives according to her notions. Repeatedly she is shown throughout her life giving people money and places to live, then deluging them with orders–thinly veiled as instructions and suggestions–on how they should be living. This pattern then, obviously, created resentment, rather than the gratitude and compliance Rose expected, and her beneficiaries flee from her for the sake of their own self-respect and freedom. Rose is then–again–left lonely, depressed, and bitter at the betrayals.
Rose blames an unhappy childhood of poverty for most of her problems. Also, a lack of affection from her parents is credited as a major source for her depressions and uncertainties. Reading “Ghost in the Little House” it struck me that the two things Rose lacked in her youth that Laura had were: 1.) Pa, and, 2.) Pa’s fiddle. In the Little House books, I can’t recall any times when exuberant affection flowed from Laura’s ma. Caroline “Ma” Ingalls was the source of gentle correction and discipline for her daughter. She also provided sound examples of behavior and restraint of emotion. There wasn’t any gushing, hugging type of affection from Caroline Ingalls. That came from Laura’s Pa, and even at that, do you recall any time in the Little House books where parents and children hugged and told each other they loved them? Hugs and I-love-yous are very recent additions to our culture. Yet, while reading, did you ever doubt the love in the Ingalls’ house was there? And the joy and happiness that filled and sustained their family through the hard times, and incredible poverty and shortages, came from Pa’s fiddle, filling the days and nights with joyous music. Rose didn’t have those two things. She had in a mother someone trained by Caroline to offer correction and discipline, but with Laura’s readily acknowledged quicker temper and lack of verbal restraint. And in a father she had Almanzo. At one point Rose is described as being fond of him in an almost pet-like way. If anyone was the ghost in the Little House it was Almanzo.
At one point, Almanzo says to Rose, “my life has been mostly disappointments.” That’s a profound statement, especially to make to his only daughter. Yet, if you consider what Almanzo’s life goals must have been, it makes sense. He grew up on a large, successful farm with a father who was a respected leader in the community. It’s a small guess that when he homesteaded the Dakota prairie, Almanzo visualized a similar future for himself. When he married Laura, he had 320 acres, a new house, good stock, and a respected reputation growing in the community. He was set in the years to come to be a mirror of his father. Instead of the success continuing and expanding, his crops failed, he lost his farm, and had to trudge away in defeat. Though a new farm could eventually be acquired, the other impediment to Almanzo’s success could not be overcome. Without a large family, one can not have the large prosperous farm that garners the role of community respect and leadership. A childless couple, or as with Laura and Almanzo, a couple with a single daughter, simply can never have the type of farm that Almanzo’s father had. Children, sons as well as daughters, are vital. They are critical workers. Hired workers can not take the place of a family on a farm–enough hired hands cannot be afforded and can’t put in the kind of hours and devotion a family can. So Almanzo’s disappointments tie–through no fault of hers–to having Rose as a sole daughter. And as goes Almanzo’s thwarted dreams, so would go Laura’s. Rose might have given her father a second chance at this dream via a marriage in Mansfield with a son-in-law to take over the farm and provide grandchildren, but that was not the life Rose chose. In fact, it was a life she actively, and somewhat insultingly to her parents, rejected completely. Fertile ground for resentments?
So, Rose moved away as quickly as she could and as far as she could. In San Francisco she married a man with, it seems, scant love, at least on her part. She had a son who was lost at birth, or in infancy, about 1909, with medical complications that left her unable to have any other children. There followed decades of wandering around the country and around the world, always seeking something that she never could quite define. She fell in love with the troubled land of Albania. She had grand adventures where few American women had ever been, yet the overriding thing that came through the narrative of her travels was a sense of bleakness, disappointment, and failed dreams. Throughout the “Ghost in the Little House” Rose comes off as unhappy and conflicted. Unfortunately for the reader of “Ghost”, this overshadows the secondary enjoyment of reading about these places and times.
Rose is already middle-aged at the point when Laura sends her a manuscript to look at titled, “Pioneer Girl.” This is Laura’s memoirs, never published, which become the basis for the Little House series of books. Rose is already a well-established writer, making her living with reasonable success as a writer of articles and short fiction stories. Rose also has a secret writing life “ghosting” other people’s works. Here lies my major objection to this book–there are differences between writing, editing, collaborations, and ghost writing. “Ghost in the Little House” blurs these distinctions. Rose performed all of these functions, yet, herself, seems to categorize a large amount of her editing work as ghost writing.
It is with these blurred definitions that we arrive at the first of the Little House books. Holtz credits the Little House books almost entirely to Rose, referring often to Laura’s writing as “attempts” that were “primitive” and “amateurish,” with “clogging detail,” or alternately with a lack of detail. Rose is presented as regarding Laura’s books as nothing but a trivial bother, even though it’s the royalties from Laura’s books that support her later in life, not Rose’s own works, which fade from public view. Here the reader of “Ghost in the Little House” must make his or her own assessment of the situation concerning Laura, Rose, and the writing of the Little House books. Who wrote the books? Whose voice is it we hear when we read? Who had the greater influence on what the Little House books are? Laura? Or the editing/ghost-writing hand of Rose?
Rose clearly was a skilled editor. But she also seems to have been a heavy-handed editor who rewrote segments and restructured material. This, however, is a vastly different thing than writing a book. Rose could rework material that she could never have generated originally herself. The voice in the Little House books is Laura’s, not Rose’s. As Laura mined the materials of her childhood for her books, Rose tagged along, using this material for two books of her own. “Free Land” and “Let the Hurricane Roar” (later republished as “Young Pioneers”–both, linked, available at Amazon.com) are effectively Rose’s interpretation of the Little House books. While both are enjoyable reads, they simply aren’t Little House books, and, I dare say, had not Laura’s books been the successes they are, Rose’s books would have faded from view–it’s Laura’s writing fame that sustains Rose’s books.
Examples of Laura’s writing skill and ‘voice’ that precede the writing of the Little House books are readily available (see “Little House in the Ozarks,” a collection of Laura’s early articles and essays). Reading her early works, you’ll find many of the events later told about in the Little House books, as well as Laura talking about herself, her life, her memories… many beautifully, and skillfully written without Rose’s input… Holtz, the author of “Ghost in the Little House”, frequently denigrates these articles, calling them “parochial.”
Herein lies another area one can dispute: Was Laura a talented, educated, and skilled writer in her own right, or was she a ‘barefoot bumpkin’ [a phrase that pops up here and there in other editorial works] who could not possibly have written the books that appear under her name? The overriding tone in “Ghost in the Little House” continually supports the ‘barefoot bumpkin’ viewpoint, and–as a person who grew up on a farm myself–one that irks me.
Consider who and what Laura was:
A farm/pioneer girl who never even graduated from high school, lived in the rural fringes of the country cut off from all culture and sophistication, literally barefoot, impoverished, “parochial”
A person who was educated in one-room schoolhouses which had educational standards such that a high school senior now probably could not pass a seventh grade exam then. I’ve taken the California basic teacher’s exam (CBEST)–child’s play next to the teacher’s test Laura took every year, yet people taking the CBEST have studied in college for four years to pass it struggled and have a huge failure rate. Laura passed her first teacher’s exam with no prep time at age fifteen. Laura had traveled the entire country, much of it in a covered wagon, true, but by the time she wrote her books she’d been from Florida to California and across the entire middle of the USA meeting and interacting with people from every possible culture and background. Laura had learned to speak Swedish! She had learned a foreign language in her youth from neighbors who didn’t speak English. Laura read everything she could get her hands on–she and her family had read every book available in Mansfield. Laura–thanks in great part to Rose’s travels–had contact with people numerous cultures, entertaining visitors from all over the world.
Uneducated, ‘barefoot bumpkin’? Ha! Laura was an educated woman (often home schooled), with a strong cultural and literary background that eminently prepared her to write anything she chose–and she chose to write what she knew, her own “parochial” life.
So, to return to pure review of “Ghost in the Little House”… As annoyed as it sometimes made me, as many points as I found to dispute, I enjoyed and respected the book and the information it presented and am glad I got and read it. The research is thorough, exacting, informative, and interesting, though the conclusions and point of view can be disputed. It’s sometimes cumbersome reading as the book is scholarly in its presentation. Rose was a complicated person and this is the best examination of her I’ve ever seen, and though unsympathetic to Laura, “Ghost in the Little House” does an able job filling in details of Laura’s life and writing that aren’t generally covered elsewhere. “Ghost in the Little House” made me want to get more of Rose’s works–particularly accounts of her Albanian travels. If you can read with a tolerant heart, this is a recommended book.
Little House in the Ozarks: The Rediscovered Writings by Laura Ingalls Wilder, edited by Stephen W. Hines
|Little House in the Ozarks:
The Rediscovered Writings
by Laura Ingalls Wilder,
Review by Deb Houdek Rule
Review of Little House in the Ozarks:
“Little House in the Ozarks: The Rediscovered Writings” is a collection of articles Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote in the decades before the first of her “Little House” books came out. For about twenty years before her first book, “Little House in the Big Woods,” Laura was a regularly published writer of articles and essays in regional newspapers and farm magazines beginning in 1911. Editor Stephen W. Hines tracked down and gathered a large number of these articles into a collection he then published in book form.
A great deal of credit should go to Hines for his efforts in making this collection of Laura’s earlier writings available. This is a splendid and enormously enjoyable collection of writings that are otherwise difficult, if not impossible, to find.
Laura’s skill as a writer shows vividly in these articles. Even though non-fiction aimed at an adult audience, the same style and authorial “voice” that is distinctly Laura’s shows through.
|“De Smet was built as the railroad went through, out in the midst of the great Dakota prairies far ahead of the farming settlements, and this first winter of its existence it was isolated from the rest of the world from December 1 until May 10 by the fearful blizzards that piled the snow forty feet deep on the railroad tracks. It was at risk of life that anyone went even a mile from shelter, for the storms came up so quickly and were so fierce it was literally
impossible to see the hand before the face, and men had frozen to death within a few feet of shelter because they did not know they were near safety.” –from The Hard Winter, Feb 1917
|“The snow was scudding low over the drifts of the white world outside the little claim shanty. It was blowing through the cracks in its walls and forming little piles and miniature drifts on the floor, and even on the desks before which several children sat, trying to study; for this abandoned claim shanty, which had served as the summer home of a homesteader on the Dakota prairie, was being used as a schoolhouse during the winter… I was only sixteen years old and twelve miles from home during a frontier winter…” –from Christmas When I Was Sixteen, Dec 1924|
The collected articles also give additional looks at Laura’s memories of her childhood years, with a touch of nostalgia to them that supplements well the “Little House” books. The reader can see the stories and memories coalescing and forming into the tales she eventually wrote into fictionalized book form.
|“The little white daisies with their hearts of gold grew thickly along the path where we walked to Sunday school. Father and sister and I used to walk the two and a half miles every Sunday morning… I have forgotten what I was taught on those days also. I was only a little girl, you know. But I can still see the grass and the trees and the path winding ahead, flecked with sunshine and shadow and the beautiful golden-hearted daisies scattered all along the way.”Ah well! That was years ago, and there have been so many changes since then that it would seem such simple things should not be forgotten; but at the long last, I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones
after all.” –from Sweet Williams, July 1917
|“Bringing home the cows is the childhood memory that oftenest recurs to me. I think it is because the mind of a child is peculiarly attuned to the beauties of nature, and the voices of the wildwood, and the impression they made was deep… I am sure old Mother Nature talked to me in all the languages she knew when, as a child, I loitered along the cow paths, forgetful of milking time and stern parents waiting, while I gathered wildflowers, waded in the creek, watched the squirrels hastening to their homes in the treetops, and listened to the sleepy twitterings of the birds…
Life was not intended to be simply a round of work, no matter how interesting and important that work may be. A moment’s pause to watch the glory of a sunrise or a sunset is soul satisfying, while a bird’s song will set the steps to music all day long.” –from Going After the Cows, April 1923
Not all the articles are about her memories of childhood. We get a solid look at the adult Laura had become. She was a strong, confident women who firmly believed that women were equal partners of men and every bit as competent to take their places in any part of the business or political world. But, she realistically qualifies that with admonishments to women to be their own people and to learn, study, and grow. Much of Laura’s advice and observations are every bit as valid and useful now as they were when she wrote them in the last century.
In every regard this was an extremely enjoyable book to read, both for the “Little House” insights and memories, and for the new and delightful view of this excellent writer and her timeless writing.
Editor Stephen W. Hines deserves to be commended for bringing these articles by Laura Ingalls Wilder back to the public.
The Iowa Story: Laura Ingalls Wilder’s life in Burr Oak, Iowa by William Anderson
Reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule
This is a small book, only fifty-two pages long, but it ably fills in the story of the Ingalls’ year in the town of Burr Oak, Iowa.
Of the many who research and write about Laura’s life and travels, I am always confident in the work and writing of William Anderson. He’s pleasingly reliable both in his research and in the way he writes about his findings. “The Iowa Story” is no exception. Brief though it is, it is an enjoyable read filled with worthwhile information and tidbits that bring life and interest to what otherwise might be dull facts.
I bought my copy of “The Iowa Story” right in Burr Oak, Iowa at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Park and Museum and giftshop there, published under their own publication imprint. The Iowa Story by William Anderson from Amazon.com doesn’t seem to have new copies but does list the book available from several other booksellers. Or you can order the book directly from the Burr Oak online giftshop at: www.lauraingallswilder.us/shop.html.
Little House in Brookfield by by Maria D. Wilkes
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule
Sloppy writing and a severe lack of editing make the book read as a hastily tossed-together piece written to meet a deadline for commercial, rather than artistic, purposes. The story is inconsistent and filled with random elements (such as the family having no meat–what happened to the pig they were raising in an earlier chapter?).
Much is made of the “oh, poor us, we’re poor and suffering” without the sense of dignity, pride and self-sufficiency–or outright joy of life– that fills the real Little House books. Instead the poverty aspect is hammered in over and over.
The content could have been interesting if it was made clear that the events were historically documented rather than contrived just to make a new book series. This book, and those that follow, also suffer from a basic lack of content–nothing much happens in most of them. Nothing drives the stories forward. Stagnant.
The writing seemed to ‘talk down’ to young readers in a way that the original series never did.
Bachelor Girl by Roger Lea MacBride
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule
Bachelor Girl was a nice closing episode to the ‘Rose’ series of books. It was a well-chosen ending place to the story as Rose clearly is leaving the child world and entering that of the adult at the end.
The ‘Rose’ series, overall, makes a nice compliment to the original ‘Laura’ series–not as good, mind you, but a decent sequel. The series starts off a bit slow and uneventfully, but picks up in the later books. I’d recommend them to young readers who’ve read the ‘Laura’ books and want more of the story. They don’t have, and won’t give, the same historical sense as the original series, however, as they lack that element of first-hand flavor Laura was able to give to an era she actually lived through.
Now the nit-picking critique…I found myself questioning the portrayal of Rose’s personality in this 8th book. In the previous books she’d been pridefully, almost arrogantly, confident in her intelligence and educational achievements. Though she hadn’t socialized well with kids her age she had been bold and out-going in other ways (dating a college man, etc.). Now, grownup and on her own, Rose is suddenly shy and uncertain, letting herself be trod upon and looked down upon. And tell me, would a girl who had managed to learn fluent Latin in less than a year have to look up the definition of “inhibitions”? Laura, even when she was being a proper young lady, always held onto her inner rebelliousness–Rose’s seems to have been nearly snuffed out in most of this book.
I also wondered about her sudden interest in being a housewife. Flirting with the idea of playing house with Paul could have worked better if it had been clearly battling inside her with her desire for independence. The entire Paul relationship was not quite as deftly worked as it could have been. Its resolution was foreshadowed in a clunky, predictable way. It was interesting to meet Rose’s future husband (and future ex-husband), Gillette Lane. He was not fully fleshed out as a character, but one could see how he would both fascinate her with his flash and style and, regrettably, the traits that could make the relationship fall apart later.
Oddly, San Francisco didn’t come to life in the story. A curious omission was the cable cars. I never quite felt I could place her within the City even though several specific places were mentioned (including places where the, mentioned, street cars would have been cable cars). The atmosphere was missing.
Something I would have liked to have seen hints of was Rose’s future career as a journalist. Though she wrote many letters (were these historically authentic? ), the inclination to a writing career didn’t come through.
Though these books were written as childrens’ or young adults’ stories–fiction based on fact– I would dearly have loved to have seen an “historical notes” section at the end.
Free Land by Rose Wilder Lane
reviewed by Deb Houdek Rule
The Homestead Act promised people “free land” if they lived on it and worked it for five years. This book by Rose Wilder Lane, daughter of Laura and Almanzo Wilder, is about the enormous price of that free land.
Though Rose clearly draws her source material from the experiences of her parents and grandparents, she tell a far different tale than that of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s “Little House” books. I always visualize this story as being that of a young couple living on the far opposite side of town from the Ingalls. One might expect to see Pa, Ma, and Laura in the distance walking down the street, but this is not their story. Many tales you may read about in biographies of Laura are told here in fictionalized form.
“Free Land” is somewhat darker than the Little House books, and is an adult’s story (though nothing is terribly inappropriate for younger readers, very young children may not care for it) with some of the harsher aspects of the pioneering life shown more vividly. It is also told from a young adult male’s point of view, and so deals often with his struggles to be a responsible provider for a growing family–you can see both Almanzo Wilder and Charles Ingalls in him–while balancing against his desire for freedom and adventure.
Rose and Laura were very different writers and, in reading this book, you’ll probably find yourself doubting–as I do–the claims that it was Rose who really wrote the Little House books. Their styles are too different. Rose Wilder Lane is a fine writer in her own right and this book, and her others, are well worth reading.
“Free Land” is a worthy novel in its own right, and as a supplement to the Little House books it is a fine reading experience.