4.5 Stars

'No wonder simple men have always had their gods dwell in the high places. For as soon as a man lets his eye drop from the heavens to the horizon, he risks setting it on some scene of desolation.' This profound statement sets the tone for a story that delves deep into the lives of the Alcott family.

It shares not only their day-to-day existence but also how Brooks envisioned their lives in the years leading up to and during the Civil War. Through the eyes of John March, the father of Amy, Beth, Jo, and Meg, we witness the profound impact of the war on their lives.

Largely told through Mr. March's thoughts, there are also moments when we get a glimpse into the thoughts of others. The story begins with a loss as March and another man attempt to cross the water to an island, underestimating the strength of the current. A bullet takes the life of the other man, Silas Stone, and March is left clutching a torn fragment of wet wool.

Brooks excels in balancing the horrors of war with the kindness shown to the soldiers and the grief of those left behind. The vivid descriptions of Silas's death and March's determination to send a piece of his clothing to his mother add a layer of depth and humanity to the story.

Overall, this is a powerful and moving account of a family's experience during a time of war.

I am usually drawn to novels about the time of the Civil War. It was a very slow start. I never felt a strong feeling towards Mr March. He was too naive and slightly full of himself.

This is the story of the March dad, the father to the girls from Little Women. We follow his story from when he was a young man selling his wares and then meeting his wife, his marriage, the birth of his daughters and his decision, at 39 years of age, to join up with a troop of soldiers as their chaplain. He is ill equipped for this role, despite all his good intentions.

The book delves into the challenges and experiences that Mr March faces during the war. It shows how his naivete sometimes gets him into trouble, yet his kindness and good heart also shine through. However, overall, it was just an OK book for me. I'm glad I finally read it, as it provided some insights into the character of Mr March. But at the same time, I'm also glad I'm finished with it. Maybe it didn't quite live up to my expectations, or perhaps it just didn't have that special something that would have made it a truly great read.

Having read all of this author's fiction titles except for this one - and having loved every single one of them - this particular book turned out to be a real disappointment. My main concern lies in her interpretations of the characters of both Mr. and Mrs. March. I haven't read "Little Women" for many years, but I simply could not accept that March was portrayed as a sanctimonious fool and Marmee as some kind of psychotic personality who bottled up and occasionally unleashed such intense anger. In a sense, reading this book has somewhat marred my memories of "Little Women", which until now was a much beloved book. It serves as a memo to myself: It's time to stop reading books where modern authors attempt to append their own stories onto classic works.

I wasn't entirely certain how I would respond to a book set during the Civil War. It wasn't my favorite historical era by any means. However, this particular book was truly excellent. It served as my introduction to Geraldine Brooks as a novelist. I had previously read her non-fiction work, Nine Parts of Desire, but had not delved into any of her fictional offerings. Now, having read all of her novels, I can say that I have thoroughly enjoyed every single one.

This is my favorite quote from March: "Who is the brave man---he who feels no fear? If so, then bravery is but a polite term for a mind devoid of rationality and imagination. The brave man, the real hero, quakes with terror, sweats, feels his very bowels betray him, and in spite of this moves forward to do the act he dreads." This quote really encapsulates the essence of true bravery. It shows that being brave doesn't mean being fearless. Instead, it means having the courage to face one's fears and take action despite the overwhelming emotions that may come with it. It's a powerful reminder that heroes come in all shapes and sizes and that true bravery is often found in the most unexpected places.

This novel, March written by Geraldine Brooks, was chosen as the winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 2006.

The book has been sitting on my bookshelf for several years. Recently, when thinking about one of my favorite childhood books, 'Little Women' by Louisa May Alcott, I was reminded of it.

I can't say that I ever gave much consideration to the absentee patriarch, Mr. March, while reading 'Little Women'. But after reading this novel, I realized just what a compelling story Mr. March had to tell.

March is the story Geraldine Brooks imagined Mr. March might tell if asked to share his experiences as a chaplain for the Union during the Civil War.

Louisa May Alcott based the March family in 'Little Women' on her own family, and Ms. Brooks used the journals of Louisa May Alcott's father, Bronson Alcott, as inspiration for her character Mr. March.

Ms. Brooks created a fascinating character in Mr. March. He was a man with impossibly high ideals, which seemed destined to bring him unhappiness and personal crisis from the beginning.

Mr. March was a preacher, a philosopher, and an abolitionist. His moral character, although admirable, often didn't seem grounded in the practical.

From the start of the story, written in his own words to his family, the reader becomes aware of the serious crisis of conscience Mr. March is grappling with.

He has witnessed brutality and injustice while traveling with his regiment and is finding it increasingly difficult to reconcile his principles and idealism with the realities of war.

He writes letters to his wife, Marmee, and daughters, Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, but the reader knows these letters are fictionalized accounts of his true experiences.

He can't bear to tell his family what he has seen and experienced, and he is also hiding his chronic illness from them.

The novel is filled with broad, emotionally charged themes like the inhumanity of slavery and the glorification of war. But the theme that stayed with me was the vast discrepancy between Mr. March's ideals and the harsh realities of war.

This theme emerged repeatedly. Mr. March was a philosopher and idealist with the certainty of his moral convictions, aiming to create a utopian community.

However, he had trouble accepting that others didn't share his ideals and that in war, both sides believe they have the moral high ground.

Witnessing the brutality of war and being unable to stop it left Mr. March shaken and in despair, with his beliefs in tatters.

I've thought a lot about this aspect of the story. While I admired Mr. March's idealism, I felt it, unchecked by a sense of reality, led him to charge headlong into situations that made matters worse.

His desire to help John Brown led to his family living in poverty, and his belief in the instant impact of the Emancipation Proclamation left him disappointed.

Maybe Marmee was right when she said, "You are not God. You do not determine the outcome. The outcome is not the point. The point is the effort."

Maybe, in the end, making the effort is the most important. This was truly a beautiful and haunting story of war and one man's struggle with his conscience.

How did this trashy fan fiction manage to win the Pulitzer Prize?

One has to wonder if the Pulitzer board read an entirely different book than what I did.

After reading this garbage, can I ever trust the Pulitzer Prize again?

Why did Australian born Geraldine Brooks feel compelled to ride the coat tails of Louisa May Alcott to tell a lackluster story about the United States Civil War?

Why does “progressive” Mr. March treat animals better than women? And why did Brooks think it was a good idea for Mr. March to have a romantic relationship with a slave and cheat on his wife? Is she attempting to butcher a character that isn't even hers?

How am I supposed to read with a straight face that “poverty requires aptitude” and “we lived without ostentation” on the very same page where we learn they had a “housekeeper…chef…valet…and…nursery maid.” Does Mr. March have any clue what poverty truly is?

Does Brooks understand how patronizing it is when she writes, “I don’t believe I have ever been so tired as I was those evenings, not even in the aftermath of battle. Teaching the Negroes required a vast expenditure of physical energy, as I found that if I did not talk with a high degree of animation and an almost theatrical amount of expression, I could not hold their attention”? Is she aware of how racist this statement sounds? And is she seriously suggesting that teaching these students was more difficult than a civil war battle? Has any combat veteran of any war ever made such a claim?

Did anyone else have the urge to throw the book across the room when Grace said, “He loves, perhaps, an idea of me: Africa, liberated”?

Did anyone actually laugh out loud when they read, “According to this, your husband’s bowels have moved eighteen times in the last thirty hours. This is incompatible with any hope for recovery”? Is this legitimate science, Brooks? If not (and it clearly isn't), couldn't you have considered other ways of simply saying “he’s dying”? Was this really necessary?

Was anything in this book truly necessary?

1 star.

Ok, to be honest - I couldn't finish it!

I've completely lost faith in the Pulitzer Prize for fiction. It's becoming like a Grammy award for pop music (see Mariah Carey and Celine Dion). This book is pretentious and short-sighted from page one.

Come on, a vegetarian, Unitarian, abolitionist, transcendentalist, book-lover from the North is just one HUGE cliche that, frankly, probably did not exist during the Civil War. I know that Louisa May Alcott's parents (as that is the subject of this book) were revolutionary for their time (in fact, Bronson Alcott was indeed a vegetarian and attempted a community based farm named "Utopia-something-or-other"), but they weren't a tired-out, modern day example of tolerance.

To reinforce my point, here is a quote from the book: "You must know that we in the South suffer from a certain malnourishment of the mind: we value the art of conversation over literary pursuits, so that when we gather together it is all for gallantries and pleasure parties... I envy your bustling Northern cities, where men of genius are thrown together thick as bees, and the honey of intellectual accomplishment is produced."

UUUUgggh. One more person, stereotyping the South. Just what we need in this modern day. The author seems to have a one-sided view, painting the North as the epitome of progress and the South as intellectually inferior. This kind of generalization is not only inaccurate but also disrespectful. It忽视了 the complex and diverse nature of both regions during the Civil War era.

I expected more from a book that was awarded the Pulitzer Prize. Instead, I was left disappointed and frustrated. Maybe it's time to reevaluate the criteria for this prestigious award and ensure that it recognizes works that are truly worthy of the honor.

I now know, after carefully perusing Geraldine Brooks' website, that "March" won the 2006 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.

When I initially pulled it from the shelf at our modest library, I had not noticed that it had received such acclaim. However, now that I have finished the last page, I am not at all surprised. It is truly a remarkable work. Brooks has an authentic voice that shines through.

Her extensive reading of primary sources, especially the writings of Bronson Alcott, who served as the inspiration for L.M. Alcott's father figure in "Little Women," gives Brooks a firm handle on the cadences of 19th-century prose.

Combined with her literary skill, Brooks brings journalistic details to her narrative, a result of her experience as a correspondent in war-torn countries.

In the novel, Brooks thoughtfully considers a quandary common to many: how do we come to terms with the discrepancy between our ideals and the realities of life? Mr. March, a pacifist, enlists as a chaplain, hoping to live out his beliefs.

Later, he witnesses people in his care being killed, either because of his own cowardice or in the effort to save him. It is a heavy burden to bear.

Grace, the educated daughter of a plantation owner and his slave, offers this perspective to Mr. March as he flagellates himself for the horrors he believes he has caused.

She tells him, "'You are not God. You do not determine the outcome. The outcome is not the point.'"

Mr. March responds, "'The what, pray, is the point?' His voice was a dry, soft rattle, like a breeze through a bough of dead leaves."

Grace continues, "'The point is the effort. That you, believing what you believed--what you sincerely believed, including the commandment 'thou shalt not kill'--acted upon it. To believe, to act, and to have events confound you--I grant you, that is hard to bear. But to believe, and not to act, or to act in a way that every fiber of your soul held was wrong--how can you not see? That is what would have been reprehensible.'"

Later, Grace further elaborates, "I simply ask you to see that there is only one thing to do when we fall, and that is to get up, and go on with the life that is set in front of us, and try to do the good of which our hands are capable for the people who come in our way."

This embodiment of grace is perhaps the greatest reason I found to love "March" and to appreciate it for more than just the historical fiction it is in genre. Brooks is right, and she expresses the truth eloquently. We waste precious time beating ourselves up over past failures. The only hope is to forgive ourselves, then others, and move forward with conviction and compassion.

Related Links:

"March to the Front," an article about Brooks' journey to writing "March," by Catherine Keenan of the Sydney Morning Herald

"The Writing Life," Geraldine Brooks' reflections on her craft

I was not entirely certain, not until the very end, that I had read "March" before. However, deep down, I am now sure that I did. There were multiple instances where that strange sense of déjà vu kept tickling at the back of my mind. But I was so completely engrossed in the beautiful words that I simply couldn't stop and ponder over it during the first couple of times. Even after realizing that I had indeed read the book already, it did nothing to diminish the sheer enjoyment of reading it once again.

It is an incredibly compelling story, and I adored the way Geraldine Brooks chose to tell it. Yes, it is the tale of Mr. March, the father from Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women," but it was Mrs. March's role in the story that truly captured my heart. Brooks has an amazing ability to paint vivid pictures with her words, pictures that simply won't let go. I was particularly fond of this scene and marked it to return to later. "At first, she quivered like an aspen, and I was ashamed at my lack of continence, yet I could not let go of her. I felt like Peleus on the beach, clinging to Thetis, only to find that, suddenly, it was she who held me; that same furnace in her nature that had flared up in anger blazed again, in passion."

The story is narrated in the first person, and it worksilliantly. We are introduced to Mr. March - I can't seem to recall ever knowing his first name - in 1861, after a battle at Harper's Ferry. It is during the Civil War, and Mr. March had enlisted with the Concord volunteers as a Chaplain. We then encounter him later, as a nineteen-year-old peddler in the South. The story concludes, just before Christmas, with John Brooks and Mr. March arriving home to find Beth recovered from Scarlet fever and Marmee and all of her little women there to welcome him home. I was completely mesmerized throughout the entire story, from beginning to end, and I firmly believe that you will be too.

I did not love the Pulitzer prize winning novel March, nor did I particularly dislike it. I know, these are weasel words. In a nutshell, as I've said in a review or two, really good historical fiction is difficult to pull off. March succeeded in a few ways but failed in a few others, which I will outline below.

******Spoiler******

The protagonist of the story is a middle-aged March, a character largely based on Louisa May Alcott’s talented father Bronson Alcott. March’s story is narrated in the first person and is broken into three timeframes.

1) In the 1830s-1840s, March is a Yankee peddler. He stays for a prolonged period in Virginia, where he secretly teaches slaves to read and write. He witnesses the horrors and consequences of slavery first hand.

2) Thirty years later, in the same locale in Virginia, but now as an abolitionist and chaplain for the Union Army, he encounters the horrors of the early war (1861-1862) in Virginia. He is largely assigned to burial duty as he refuses to arm himself. Perhaps more central to the story, he encounters the plantation that he was kicked off of years earlier, which is now in ruins. He reunites with some of the slaves as they try to survive the war together.

3) After March is wounded, he returns to his family in Concord, Massachusetts and struggles to make sense of the brutality that he witnessed and has survivor’s guilt. He loses track of the ex-slaves who he cares about deeply. We don't have a clear picture of what happened to everyone, and there is little sense of closure, which is probably true to real life.

******End of Spoiler******

The best historical fiction requires especially good writing. Brook’s writing is more of the tell me variety instead of the show me variety. Perhaps more importantly, there was not a great deal of dialogue, which was a big downside. Nor were there many descriptive elements of the landscape or environment that could have made the story more rooted in a real place. At times, the battles and scenes felt a little jumbled because it was really hard to place them in my mind. So these were negatives for me.

One area where this story excels is its arc. A middle-aged abolitionist father volunteers as a chaplain at the start of the war and ends up back in the same place in Virginia where he experienced slavery first hand. That is probably an excellent premise for any best selling novel.

The second area where this story excels is the realism of the main character. As a first person narrative, March was believable and not embellished. For such a famous figure, one might have expected more pomp from another author.

The third area is the letters he sent to the family back home during the war. March keeps much of what he witnessed out of his correspondence, keeping the message constrained. While the letters home certainly add to the development of March’s character and the story, the introduction of the letters also jumble the timeline a bit.

I will remember this book for a long time, which I can't say of most 3 star books that I've read, so it clearly made an impression on me. In the end, though, it could have been better for the reasons stated above.

3.5 stars.

This was a truly wonderful book.

From the very first page, it had me completely captivated.

The story was engaging, filled with interesting characters and a plot that kept me on the edge of my seat.

It was one of those books that I couldn't put down, constantly eager to find out what would happen next.

The author's writing style was beautiful, painting vivid pictures in my mind and making me feel as if I was right there in the story.

Even after I finished reading, the book continued to stay with me, its themes and messages lingering in my thoughts.

I know that this is a book that I will return to again and again, and it will always hold a special place in my heart.

It was a literary masterpiece that I would highly recommend to anyone looking for a great read.

I'm not generally a reader who gravitates towards Pulitzer Prize Winners. However, due to the connection with Little Women, this particular book has piqued my interest for some time.

Mr March is merely a minor character in Little Women, and aside from the fact that he has gone to war, we don't know a great deal about him. Here, Brooks endeavors to expand on his character and what transpired over that year. To achieve this, she has modeled his character after Louisa May Alcott's father. Mr Alcott was an abolitionist and a vegan (even before the term existed), and he left behind copious notes and diaries that Brooks was able to utilize as reference material.

I suppose what we ultimately have is "high brow fan fiction". I thought it was rather good, although at times it felt a bit lengthy. It focused much more on slavery than I had anticipated, and until I understood the basis of Brook's source material, I did question how realistic her forward-thinking main character was. I believe this book is best suited for true fans of this time period and of Little Women.