Aside from Pa's failures to produce the promised wheat crops (he sure talks a helluva game about this in this book) and his need to "walk 300 miles" to find a job, this book features the Ingalls family staying in one place the entire book.

No worries, though. We know how irritating the Norwegians are, how the church folks can't sing in tune, and how the grasshoppers are the root of all evil. Also, Laura is a vindictive little bitch toward one of her classmates and it was kind of fantastic to read.

The whole time I was reading this book, I kept feeling like I had read it before. I mean, I have read it before, but years and years ago, as a kid and as a teen. I kept reading, and I kept telling myself what was going to happen next, and it finally dawned on me, I had recently re-read the book - I just didn't update goodreads with the info, or bother to write a review!

So this book, so far, is my favorite in the series. I love the imagery that Ingalls uses throughout the book to describe the scenes, and I love how Pa does everything he can to take care of the family, even leave them for months. Ma struggling through the snow to take care of the animals, her fear for her husband (while making sure her kids aren't scared), is amazing.

A masterpiece and a delight! I was blown away by how good this book was, even though I had lofty expectations based on vivid memories of several parts: the dugout and then the beautiful timber house with an attic, leeches, a party with lemonade, Nellie Oleson's meanness, grasshoppers, the Christmas tree at church with presents hanging on it, Pa weathering a blizzard in a snowdrift and eating all the oyster crackers and Christmas candy. The bare incident adds up to a totally gripping story, which seemed to work its charm over my children just as it did over my childhood.

What I hadn't remembered was how well told the story is. The narration abounds in vivid, even startling descriptions—sometimes flirting with personification—especially of the natural world on the prairie. It expresses such reverence, such absolute relish of the world and all its goodness. This seems remarkable, given that the family suffers greatly at the hand of nature. Even when grasshoppers eat all plant life in sight and everyone is sweltering in a dry, hot summer, Laura's world doesn't turn dystopian. Even the grasshopper eggs that spell the end of harvest hopes for a second year don't make the prairie or this life a terrible place to live. (I don't even think anyone ever expresses hatred of grasshoppers. Pa just stops plowing and goes off in search of a job.)

I've seen this feature of the books referred to as "relentless optimism" calculated to appeal to a Depression audience, but I wonder if it is, more fundamentally, the natural result of firm conviction of the goodness of Creation and the sovereignty of God. If so, this book seems to offer a helpful, inspiring model for responding with an appropriate attitude to the things in our world (nature or otherwise) that aren't as they should be.

It's of course a different experience to read a book like this as an adult and to pick up on the struggles and burdens that Pa and Ma endure mostly silently. Their dream of rootedness and financial stability continues to elude them, and they spend more time apart in this book than in the previous ones. But the beautiful thing is that their instability does not disqualify them from giving their children a beautiful, even fairly stable childhood. I find this both heartbreaking and heartening. Meals aren't what we'd call "square," some Christmases there are no presents, clothes and shoes are outgrown before they can be replaced, they start out the book living in a hole in the ground—these are signals of poverty. Yet Laura's perception of reality is almost all of wealth: rich experiences, family love and solidarity, good food, soulful music, beautiful landscapes, expanding horizons at school and church, surprises for others, satisfying work, household order and cleanliness. Again, it's a model and an inspiration. Because, it seems to me, the main thing that keeps it all from going dystopian is the way her parents face some honestly wretched circumstances, relentless setbacks, and crushing disappointment with humility, grace, perseverance, and hope.

I have further thoughts about how the fineness of narrative voice and plot structure enhance the book's excellence. But even though my review is too long, at least right now it's focused, so I will end this little essay here.

The Little House series is full of nostalgia for me. The characters are like old friends, and the stories like memories.

I am loving this series. It is written for children but even as an adult I find such comfort, chuckles, and curiosity in its pages.

Ha! I couldn't even tell you what the cover illustration was on this one (although I'm sure it was the above) as it has been gone for so very long.
A few years ago, my Book Club read The Children's Blizzard, which talked about the settling of the Midwest by the mostly Scandinavian immigrants and how harsh the land was, and really unsuitable for homesteading. While at the time, I thought of The Long Winterthis book illustrates the point as well. When they first arrive, Mr. Nelson is heading west and trades his dugout and land for their ponies and in a moment of shocking hubris, Pa wonders why he planted so few crops.
So many of the scenes in this book were familiar, and favorites - going to school (oh how I wanted a slate and a speller), the rushing river, the dugout itself (and I was surprised to discover I'd forgotten that they'd moved out of the dugout into a house, all bought on credit), Nellie's party and later comeuppance, and Charlotte.
I was also interested at how less Puritanical Ma and Pa were in this novel, how harsh the landscape was, and Pa's hiding his laughter when Laura told him they weren't jumping off the haystack, but rolling down the side.
A wonderful re-read.

I'm a sissy. I skipped over the grasshoppers. Just couldn't bear that part! But I loved the ending after the blizzard.

Eleanor and I are here to review the latest installment of the Little House series, so Eleanor, I'm going to move it to the "Read" shelf.

E: What color shelf is Gwen's?

Dad: Oh. It's not the color red. There are 3 shelves: read - meaning "I read it," currently reading, and I want to read it.

E: Oh. Maybe for the next book, we could sit on the computer bench and move the Silver Lake book to the "currently-reading" shelf.

D: Ummm... Ok. We can do that. Or, I could I could move it to the "currently-reading" shelf right after the review, and we could go down and read a chapter.

E: FOR REAL?!?! TODAY?!?!! *Gasps* FOR REAL? Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me, daddy?

D: Nope.

E: OK! Lets do that!!! Um. Dad. We used to just do the review, then read it the next day. Do the review, read it the next day. But this time we're doing it differently. Cool, huh?

D: Yeah.

E: Can we tell now?

D: About the book?

E: Yeah.

D: Yeah, go ahead.

E: In chapter one they gave Pet and Patty and Bunny to another person. And in chapter two!!! Sorry. I'm getting excited. I'm starting to think about reading a new one.

D: Well go ahead.

E: They found a house in the dug-out.

D: What was that like?

E: That had a Hooooole at the end. Not a window. A hole. WHEW! THAT TICKLES!

D: What tickles?

E: I tickled my foot. *muttering* ...there's two kids and they had a dog for breakfast and the dog was yummy. the end...

D: Did you just say two kids had a dog for breakfast?

E: No. That was my fingers.

D: They're always goofing around during the reviews. Can we focus here please.

E: *Sigh* Yeah. You should write that part in the review.

D: I'll think about it.

E: Ok.

D: So, why do you like the Little House books so much?

E: Because Carrie is in it, and Carrie is a BABY.

D: But she won't be a baby forever.

E: Does it tell about Carrie growing up?

D: I'm sure it does. I guess we'll find out.

E: Like we find out about how MARY GOES BLIND?!?!?!

D: Yeah. Like that. (Eleanor is kind of excited about that part since she's blind too.)

E: Will Laura and Carrie go blind too?

D: We'll have to see. Lets get back to talking about Plum Creek right now though.

E: I'm sitting criss-crossed.

D: What was your favorite part?

E: My FAVORITE part waaaaassssss.... whhhheeeeeeennnnnnnnn.... Carrie was like: (in a high pitched "baby" voice) "Ma! Ma! I want my breakfast."

We read "Grasshoppers Walking" when I had a tummy-ache.

D: What does that have to do with anything?

E: Cause Carrie's like... It sounds like she's crying it: "Ma! Ma! I want my breakfast!" You read it like that to make me feel better. Remember?

D: ...Well... I don't think I remember quite as much as you. Any other favorite parts?

E: When the grasshoppers were falling all over Laura and when they ate the wheat.

D: That wasn't really a fun part though, was it? I mean, that was really bad for Laura and Pa, Ma, Mary, and Carrie, right?

E: BUT DAD! The person that reads the book. It's not really happening any more. We're just hearing about it. I wasn't crying during that part. I was just sitting on the floor, happy, smiling, listening.

D: Good point. Good point.

E: Why is it a good point?

D: It just is. Anything else?

E: Ummmm... Nnnn... (thinking) When... AHH! When it had "The Day of Games!"

D: Why did you like that?

E: BECAUSE! It had a lot of PLAYING in it.

D: Yeah. Do you think other people should read the book?

E: YES! YES! And I liked it when Laura and Carrie were drawing with their thimbles.

D: Me too. Can I tell them about the video?

E: Yeah.

D: We made a video of Eleanor saying all the chapters of On the Banks of Plum Creek. It's kindof long, but we wanted to share it.

*EDIT* We forgot to put the stars... the MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE REVIEW!!!! (or so says, Eleanor...)

D: Eleanor, how many stars should we give it?

E: Fiiiiiiiivvvvvveeeeeee!!! Five--iiiive-iveive. Five-iiiive-iveive.

D: Got it. Really, I do.

Starting to really agree with a review I read of the Little House books. One woman wrote about how on top of things Alamonzo's family seemed in Farmer Boy. They had a permanent home, savings, etc. Whereas Papa Ingalls was a hot mess. He dragged the family away from their relatives in Wisconsin where they had a home, to Indian country. Along the way they were almost swept away down a river when he insisted they could cross it, wagon and all. (Jack, the dog, gets the short end of the stick overall. Everytime they move, he has to run under the wagon, hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles for months on end.) Then, the government made them move out of Indian country, which was just as well, seeing as the Indians were always stealing their food and tobacco. Not to mention the problems with bears and other wild animals. So, they move to Minnesota and live in a sod home for a while. When, finally, Papa builds a home on credit, their wheat gets eaten up by the locusts for 2 seasons and he has to walk 200-300 miles away each year to get work laboring on other farms in order to keep the family alive. Then, there was the time he had to live in what amounted to a snow igloo when he insisted he could go to town during winter blizzard season. He had to eat all of the measly crackers and Christmas candy to stay alive. The family had no presents that year. If I had read just the Ingalls' story, I would think that was just how everyone lived at that time. But, Alamonzo's family didn't live like that. I think it had a lot to do with crazy Papa and his wild ways.

I remember this story stretching my imagination as a child to think about a house being in the ground and having dirt as a roof.
I am continuing to enjoy this series.

4.5 stars

I normally never write a review of a
book if it has at least 30 to 50 ratings.
As far as I am concerned, what would be the
point of doing that.

I know I read at least 3 of these books when
I was about 11 years old. At the time, I just thought
they were sortof OK. I didn't think any of them
was particularly great or special.

I recently re-read this book--I am now 59
years old. I don't know if I can explain how
my opinion of this one has changed so much
but it must just be that I am older and can
understand certain things better.

As far as I am concerned this book is not just
the best of historical fiction, it is really history.

What really appeals to me about this book is
the details of how they really lived. Without those
details, I don't think that this book would have
appealed to me at all.

The details of how they got food and how they
cooked and stored it--I find that particularly inter-
esting. What does it tell you about me that I am
so completely interested in food.

I loved the idea of their having lived in a sod house
at one point. As far as I am concerned, a very
practical and good idea.

There are a lot of little details that I could go
into. One incident--the two older girls making
a button string toy for their younger sister. Could
you imagine any modern child making or getting
such a toy.

As far as I am concerned, no modern man
or woman can consider themselves truly versed
in American history without having read at least
one of these books..

WOW, what a book. I listened to the audiobook, read by the inimitable Cherry Jones, to catch up with my girls' progress through the series. I never read it as a kid, being more interested in Sonic the Hedgehog comics and Hardy Boys at the time. But to me as an adult, this story was absolutely gripping, and even convicting.

What gripped me? Wilder's description of the locusts felt like the end of the world. Nellie Olsen made my blood boil. The ball lightning and the badger were both breathless mysteries to me while they were happening. The blizzard at the end of the book had me on the edge of my seat, completely sharing the emotions of Ma and the girls. I'm used to thinking of frontier life as sepia-toned and saccharine, which Prairie corrected somewhat, but never until this book had it felt more dicey. I was completely enthralled by the drama.

What convicted me? MA INGALLS. She's always been impressive, but in this book she became one of my greatest heroes.

One small thing that grabbed me was Ma's dedication (probably common at the time) to resourcefulness. The two dresses that Laura and Mary got in Big Woods have been let out and converted many times. In this book we see the final fate of the dresses, or rather the strips that are left, which have been sewn onto window curtains as trim. Such diligent lack of waste shocked my fast-fashion-trained sensibilities. I'm glad to report that I have been mending clothing more since reading this book, rather than throwing away torn items, and I'm already getting better at it.

A bigger thing that affected me: Ma's emotional self-control. During the final scary blizzard, the way she shepherded her girls deliberately, with more regard for them than for her own fears and anxieties, was awe-inspiring. The way she kept their spirits up in the face of almost-certain tragedy was the kind of self-control my generation would think impossible. It was glorious and beautiful and I cried several times at the convicting force of her example. Strength and dignity are Ma's clothing.

One of the main moral lessons of this book is "Don't count your chickens before they hatch." The family counts on their wheat harvest to pay for all that they've bought on credit, but wheat harvests don't always come out as expected, no matter how hard you work. Ma cautions Pa through the entire book not to spend too big, but he always assures her that the wheat will pay for all. My dread slowly but steadily gathered with each of his repeated assurances. When the worst happened and the family had no wheat to show for their year of labor, Ma once again showed far more strength and dignity than I would have managed. NOT EVEN ONE "I told you so." Just support for her husband and calm and even cheerful resignation to the new hardship.

I was humbled and gladdened by this piece of American heritage. I was thrilled to have had my girls read it, and I hope they read it and benefit from it again and again. I know I will.