I truly and desperately desired to have a profound liking for this book! And in a certain way, I kind of did! "Little Women" holds a special place among my wife's favorite books, and I have an inherent weakness for Civil War novels (seemingly there are countless ones). However, this particular book, despite being written with elegance, left me with the impression of being overly sentimental and excessively preachy, making it difficult for me to fully enjoy. Additionally, as a Civil War novel, it was a tad predictable. Brooks meticulously ensured that all the Twelve Points of the True CW Novel were covered: (1) an interracial romance, (2) an old, sophisticated southern woman with power, (3) the gruesome reality of the field hospital with its meat and stench, (4) inverted moral systems, (5) corrupt or failed preachers, (6) the moral clarity of the narrator in contrast to those other dirty racists with bad teeth, (7) "powder and ball", (8) a well-stocked plantation library, (9) gorgeous, educated slave women who turn out to be of mixed blood, (10) the senseless suffering of women and children on the home front, (11) the intense liberal indignation somewhere in New England, and (12) southern families being torn apart by the brutal Visigothic Union soldiers who smash grand pianos.

Did I overlook anything? Well, Brooks didn't either. Nevertheless, "March" presents a wonderful concept, and as an exciting alternate universe for "Little Women", it perhaps has no equal.

Bear with me. I have a lot of thoughts.

I've thought about reading this book off and on for years. Firstly, it won the Pulitzer, which is quite an achievement. Secondly, it's about Mr. March, the mostly absent father in LITTLE WOMEN, one of my favorite books. These two are good recommendations, aren't they? But truth be told, I've never really been all that curious about Mr. March. Also, I heard some mixed reviews from friends, so I put it aside. Then came my new book club, and this is the first book we're reading. So I'm working really hard on finding some ways to talk about the book tonight at our first meeting, without offending anyone or hurting the feelings of the woman who chose it. For all I know, it might be her all-time favorite book.

Anyway! I will share my thoughts here with you all. And they are as follows:

What, what, WHAT was Geraldine Brooks thinking?

Okay, let me try to get my thoughts in order. There may be spoilers, so consider yourself warned. Basically, this is not a sequel or prequel to LITTLE WOMEN. It's mostly a book about the Civil War, which is fine. But historical fiction, especially when covering well-trodden topics, needs a hook. Why read this book and not some other about that era? The hook here is the connection to LITTLE WOMEN, but it's just not good. Not only because I've never wanted to know about the sex lives of Jo and Meg's parents (my eyes have been soiled!), but also because it contradicts their characters in the original book. You thought Mr. March, based on Alcott's own father, a genius, scholar, and philosopher, went to war with the full approval of his family and brought strength and comfort to those around him? Nope. He was so naively blundering that he was a danger to himself and others the entire time. I lost count of the people who died because he was an idiot. And as for Marmee, that calm, wise presence? She's just a bitter, foul-mouthed shrew. She reins it in here and there under the loving direction of her husband, but mostly she is verbally and occasionally physically abusive. Oh right, I must have missed that in the original. Such additions to make the characters more rounded would have been forgivable if there had been any hints of such things in Alcott's books, and if they hadn't made both Mr. March and Marmee seem so completely unlikeable. They're not just flawed, human characters, but outright unlikeable. March seems like a fool and a martyr, trying to get himself killed to make up for his many, awful mistakes. Marmee is such a harridan that I can't fathom anyone sympathizing with her, let alone loving her. Ever. In one of the first scenes with Marmee, it's revealed that she is a conductor on the Underground Railroad. Neat, right? But we find this out because she berates everyone at a dinner party who isn't helping slaves escape. Um, doesn't that actually make her a liability to them? If everyone in Concord knows she's hiding people in her cellar and they don't approve, aren't they worried that someone will tell the slave-catchers? It's just bizarre. Had they not been characters I "knew" from another book, this would have been hard enough to read since reading unlikeable POV characters is not my favorite thing. But since March and Marmee are beloved figures from my childhood, it started to make me think that Brooks had some vindictive reason for doing this. She seemed determined, especially with the final scene, to take a beloved childhood memory for many readers and just, well, piss all over it.

The final scene! Seriously. Without going into too much detail, she essentially recreates an iconic scene from LITTLE WOMEN, only now we (supposedly) know what was "really going on," which makes the scene absolutely horrible. Like, unbearably bitter and without hope of redemption.

What makes this even worse (as if that were possible) is that not only is the prose quite lovely, but Brooks passes over a great hook, a perfect idea for a Civil War era novel that didn't have to involve the destruction of someone else's characters. The best section of the book involves March spending time on a leased plantation, something I had no idea was a "thing." As the war progressed, plantations that had been occupied by the north were leased to northerners, and the liberated slaves were paid to stay on and work the cotton for the Union Army. This produced rather mixed results, of course, with the Secession army sabotaging them along the way. Now that, right there, would have made an infinitely better book! What a waste!

Four and a half stars.

This is an extremely insightful account of Mr March, who is mainly absent in "Little Women". He goes to war as a chaplain, being a pacifist in the midst of fighting and the seemingly necessary act of war.

The majority of the story is narrated by Mr March himself, with a segment told by Marmee. I absolutely adored her voice. The trauma and the difficult decisions that she faces are not only interesting but also highly believable and deeply moving.

Moral dilemmas are plentiful in this book. It is definitely not a light read. It makes the reader think deeply about the complex issues of war, pacifism, and the sacrifices that come with them.

The author has done a remarkable job of bringing these characters to life and making the readers empathize with their situations. It is a book that will stay with you long after you have finished reading it.

I was fully prepared to award March by Geraldine Brooks three stars until I reached this particular passage:

\\"I am not alone in this. I only let him do to me what men have always done to women: march off to empty glory and hollow acclaim and leave us behind to pick up the pieces. The broken cities, the burned barns, the innocent injured beasts, the ruined bodies of the boys we bore and the men we lay with.

The waste of it. I sit here, and I look at him, and it is as if a hundred women sit beside me: the revolutionary farm wife, the English peasant woman, the Spartan mother - 'Come back with your shield or on it,' she cried, because that was what she was expected to cry. And then she leaned across the broken body of her son and the words turned to dust in her throat.\\"

If you were once a little girl in America, it is highly likely that you have read Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. You probably grew up with Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. You witnessed their life with their mother while their father was away serving in the Union Army during the Civil War. You felt their excitement whenever Marmee read them a letter from him. You know how Marmee was called away to assist her beloved husband in recovering from an unnamed illness in an army hospital. However, what you never truly saw was the adult lives that revolved around the March girls. In fact, you never even learned their parents' first names.

Geraldine Brooks must have shared the same fascination with Little Women as many of us former little girls did. She takes that fascination and develops the story of Mr. and Mrs. March. The story begins with March (never a first name) writing a letter home to Marmee. (We discover that Marmee was what everyone called her, not just the girls.) As he concludes his writing, the story leads us to the uncensored version of his past and what is currently happening to him. At first, he seems somewhat interesting, but he quickly becomes rather dull. The man is simply too emotional and overly flowery. What is interesting, though, are his recollections of Marmee. She is by far a much more captivating character, and the story truly takes off once she takes over the narration in the second part of the book, when she arrives at the hospital to nurse her husband back to health. Up until that point, I was thinking that this book was definitely a 3. I was kind of curious about what the competition was for the Pulitzer that year. I must give Brooks credit for attempting to add a new, adult dimension to a nationally beloved work of children's literature. I think she did a great job of creating something fresh while still respecting the classic.

Having been deeply enamored with Caleb's Crossing, I made up my mind to explore all of Brooks' novels. March is yet another outstanding work. Alcott provided us with relatively scant details about Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy's father. Brooks, however, seizes this opportunity in this book to envision his life on the frontlines during the Civil War. March served as a clergyman for the Union troops, and Brooks transports us directly into the heart of the war.

But we are not confined there as she skillfully employs flashbacks to fill in all the minutiae that us Little Women fans yearn to know about how he met his future wife. Additionally, Brooks takes us to other places and eras. For the character of Mr. March, Brooks delved into the research of Bronson Alcott, Louisa May's father, and weaves details from Bronson's life into the novel. Just as she did in Caleb's Crossing, she endeavors to recreate the language of the time. This is precisely the finest kind of historical novel, as it does not rely on using contemporary jargon and interests to structure and content her books. If you haven't already, do give Geraldine Brooks a try. (First review was 02/26/12.)

A second reading (11/28/17). I revisited this book, this time with my book club. If it were possible, I found myself loving the book even more. It is difficult to overemphasize how talented a writer Brooks is. Her texts appear both fresh and authentic simultaneously. Here, she took a classic of children's literature, a nineteenth-century children's novel, and added a new layer by expanding on the character of Mr. March. He is far from the overly sentimental character that many in Alcott's classic are. And despite our desire for him to be the perfect abolitionist and the ideal head of the household that we envision Jo's father to be, Brooks insists on making him a human being with flaws and doubts. The plot is much more extensive than I had recalled, even though I had already thought she crafted numerous diverse experiences for her character over a long period of time. Readers of Brooks' historical novels are seldom bored; instead, we are presented with a wide array of locations and actions, and a succession of surprises throughout. I once again recommend this book. The members of my book club had divided opinions. Although all appreciate Brooks as a writer, quite a few were disappointed with the character of Mr. March, contending that he was not a good enough man. I understand why they said that, but I must dissent. He was imperfect and cognizant of his imperfections. His path was never easy, yet he traversed it to the best of his ability.

**Little Women's Dad: Geraldine Brooks on March**

Ask me what book influenced my life the most, and I'll answer unhesitatingly: Lousia May Alcott's Little Women. I got it for Christmas when I was in Grade Two and began reading it immediately. However, because I wasn't a very good reader, it took me until April to finish it.

And then I re-read it again. And again. And again.

Jo was my heroine for years, and the family's high-minded Abolitionist politics formed my own political conscience. Alcott is directly responsible for my participation in that famous March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, held just over 50 years ago.

The resemblances between the Alcott's creation, the March family, and her own are clear, as I learned from reading at least one biography of her. But I hadn't thought too much about the backstory of the Marches themselves. Then I picked up Geraldine Brooks's March: A Novel because I liked her Caleb's Crossing so much.

What a pleasure it is to read Brooks's imagining of the adult world behind Little Women and the difficult moral choices the Marches made!

The book is told in two voices. One is John March, a Yankee preacher who made a fortune as a pedlar in the South, then returned north and became a militant opponent of slavery. Marrying a young woman even more passionate than he, he supports John Brown's rebellion, gives all his money to the Abolitionist, tries to raise four daughters in reduced circumstances, and then volunteers as a chaplain to the Union forces once the Civil War begins. The other is of his wife, Marmee, who comes to his bedside in Washington when he is wounded.

That much any reader of Little Women already knows: the book opens with Mr. March away in the War and ends with his return a year later. What Brooks imagines is his conflict over going, his repulsion at the killing, his tortured attempts to reconcile his "cowardice" with very natural instincts to save himself, and his desire for both his wife and a young slave woman whom he met when he was young.

She also shows us Marmee's conflict, her realization that she should have, could have insisted he remain behind - he was 41 after all - and her sense of betrayal that he had given his fortune away without consulting her while keeping his brief affairs with another woman a secret from her all these years.

The tone appears to me to be spot on, Brooke's research is extensive, and the moral dilemmas her characters face are truly thought-provoking. The book won the Pultizer Prize in 2006: the judges that year were spot-on.

Review from Publishers Weekly

Starred Review. Brooks's second novel, following the highly acclaimed Year of Wonders in 2001, is a luminous work that delves into the Civil War experiences of Mr. March, the absent father in Louisa May Alcott's Little Women.

March, an idealistic Concord cleric, becomes a Union chaplain and later is assigned to teach on a cotton plantation that employs freed slaves, or "contraband." His story begins with cheerful letters home, but gradually he reveals to the reader what he隐瞒 from his family: the cruelty and racism of both Northern and Southern soldiers, the violence and suffering he is powerless to stop, and his reunion with Grace, a beautiful and educated slave he met years earlier as a Connecticut peddler on the plantations.

In addition, we learn about March's earlier life: his whirlwind courtship of the quick-tempered Marmee, his friendship with Emerson and Thoreau, and the unexpected cause of his family's genteel poverty. When a Confederate attack on the contraband farm lands March in a Washington hospital, sick with fever and guilt, the first-person narrative switches to Marmee, who presents a different version of the past years and her agonized reaction to the truth she discovers about her husband's life.

Brooks, who based the character of March on Alcott's transcendentalist father, Bronson, relies heavily on primary sources for both the Concord and wartime scenes. Her characters speak with a convincing 19th-century formality, yet the narrative remains accessible. Through the shattered dreamer March, the passionate and angry Marmee, and a cast of achingly human minor characters, Brooks's affecting and beautifully written novel powerfully conveys the intimate horrors and ironies of the Civil War and the difficulty of living truthfully with the knowledge of human suffering.

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to the Hardcover edition.

Because Goodreads has stopped notifications, it seems that no one will read my review. As a result, one might wonder why I should bother writing it at all. However, March has served as an inspiration for me to pick up and read Little Women. This classic novel has always held a special place in my heart, and the arrival of this month has reignited my desire to explore its pages once again. Despite the lack of certainty regarding whether my review will be seen by others, I find value in expressing my thoughts and opinions about the book. Writing a review allows me to engage more deeply with the story, analyze its themes, and reflect on my own personal connection to it. It is a way for me to document my reading experience and share it with the world, even if that world may be smaller than I had hoped. So, while the absence of notifications may be discouraging, I will still write my review of Little Women, hoping that it will reach at least one person who will find it interesting and perhaps be inspired to pick up the book themselves.

Never embark on reading a book during a significant move. It is extremely arduous to simply sit and read for any considerable period. This particular book should have required me at most a day or two to complete. Nevertheless, the move did not permit much reading time. However, perhaps I would have dedicated more time had the story been more captivating and held my attention better. Moreover, it is possible that I might have had a greater affinity for it if I had been able to read it in a timely fashion.

This book has truly piqued my interest in reading Little Women. Yes, I'm well aware that I might be the only one who has never read it before. I did attempt it once but DNF'd because the girls were getting on my nerves. However, I believe I'm now better prepared to handle that aspect.

The only things I recall from Little Women or from hearing about the book are that Mr. March has gone off to fight in the Civil War, it's Christmas time, and the girls initially want to buy things for themselves but then combine their money to buy a present for Mrs. March. Also, I think I remember people raving about how much they love Marmee (Mrs. March).

Since I haven't read much or remember much, reading March has made me extremely curious about the amount of overlap between this book and Little Women. Given that LW is a YA book written in 1868, I don't anticipate there being much overlap except perhaps the letters Mr. March writes home to the family. I was informed that the letters are only referred to in LW and maybe discussed.

The Afterword in March provides some context regarding how this book was written and where Brooks drew her inspiration. She clearly states that she used LW and the Alcott family as inspiration for this novel. I only skimmed that part as I was afraid of spoilers for LW.

For some readers who are accustomed to "Then" and "Now" timelines being very linear (or who don't like Then/Now), this might be an issue. However, this is not how Brooks utilized that writing technique. I found the non-linear order to be a very engaging way to tell this story, and it kept me hooked as I had no idea what was coming next.

The writing and prose are simply delicious :chef's kiss:. I'm even tempted to hold onto this book just for that reason. The story begins with Mr. March writing a letter home, and then we switch to him as an 18-year-old working young man as a traveling salesman in Virginia 20 years before the (American) Civil War commences. We witness scenes of war and injury through Mr. March's eyes. We also experience some extremely difficult scenes depicting what it was like leading up to the War and how slaves were treated (some worse than others, with very brutal scenes). Essentially, this is a story about Mr. March and how he ends up away from the family and what occurs to him while he is gone during the time of Little Women.

I can definitely understand why this book won a Pulitzer Prize (in 2006). It was almost a 5-star read for me, but towards the end, I didn't like some of the decisions made by March, even though those decisions were modeled after Louisa Mae Alcott's father and how they were resolved.

I will most definitely be reading more of Brooks' work.

I would have liked this better if it hadn't been about Mr. and Mrs. March, I think.

To be honest, I just found certain things in this work that really jarred with my vision of these people which was formed from my reading of Little Women.

I understand that perhaps this is a fault in me rather than in the book. After all, Brooks clearly did her research, as the author's afterword in this audiobook makes obvious.

She must have delved deep into the characters and their world.

However, my preconceived notions from the original novel made it a bit difficult for me to fully embrace this new portrayal.

On a positive note, Richard Easton was very good doing the narration.

His voice added a certain charm and authenticity to the story, making it more engaging to listen to.

Despite my initial reservations about the content related to Mr. and Mrs. March, I still found myself drawn in by Easton's performance.

It made me realize that even if the story didn't quite match my expectations, there were still other aspects that could make it a worthwhile experience.

Perhaps with a second listen or a more open mind, I might be able to appreciate it in a different light.

This is more like it.

When I delved into the pages of Little Women, I couldn't help but be filled with a sense of wonder. Where exactly were the true hardships of war or poverty? The author informed her readers that the family was impoverished, yet they never seemed to be truly affected by it. The father was away at war, but there was no profound concern for the thousands of men fighting and dying just a short distance away.

Brooks, however, uncovers the story that lies beneath the smiling faces and the constant calm in March. The temper that we are told Marmee possesses is vividly demonstrated in all its force, and the reader witnesses her very real struggle to manage a family with a transcendentalist dreamer at the helm. In this novel, I could begin to admire her, and I can only believe that her daughters would have reaped the benefits of seeing more of this multifaceted personality rather than the one that conceals the truth to shield them from it.

Through the father, who is largely absent in the original work, one is transported into the trenches of the US Civil War. His character is achingly real. Filled with moral certainty and hope, he ultimately ends up depressed when he is unable to save the day. His experiences cause him to doubt himself and everything he believes. He begins to understand that there will be no simple solution to the issues that divide the North and the South. Brooks relates the stories behind the letters that make their way back to his little women, where he tells half-truths and carefully selects lines to protect them from the harsh reality that he himself has trouble coming to terms with.

This author exhibits great skill in crafting realistic characters and immersing the reader in the heart of each scene. I could physically feel myself wince as a whip was lashed down on a slave's back and sense Marmee's frustration with her lot in life. I only picked up this book because Brooks was the writer. After reading Little Women, I had no strong desire to read more, but I am extremely glad that I maintained my faith in the talents of this remarkable author. It was a worthy and deeply moving story.