| Editor's Note: Well, . . it's a little late in coming, but here is another wonderful newsletter, put together by the talented and hardworking fans of "Little Men." This issue premires the new section "Dear Jo," as well as continuing the great articles that have been featured before. If you have a message for any of the writers, or if you have any questions or comments, be sure to send them along to littlemenfan@excite.com. Happy Reading!! | Staff Rachel G. - Editor Sarah - Staff Writer Arrow - Staff Writer Ruth C. - Staff Writer Plumfielder - Staff Writer Tracy - Staff Writer | |||||
Coming Up Next:
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| The Conscience Book: By: Plumfielder Amy March Laurence Amy March Laurence is the youngest of the March family. She shared the young childhood woes with her slightly older sister Beth. But after Beth died of an weak heart Amy was the youngest by quite an few years. She had always felt the age gap between her and her older sisters; Meg and Jo; but she felt it even more after Beth passed away. When she was an child all she wanted to do was marry an rich man who could buy her all the print supplies that she needed to become an famous artists. Her great Aunt March even took her aboard to Europe to study art for an little while. She met Laurie again, and they feel in love and married in Europe. Actually she fell in love with Laurie when she was a little girl and he was interested in Jo. But Jo turned down his marriage proposal and he left to Europe to become quite an lazy drunk boy. But Amy was able to turn the love of her life around and Laurie righted himself back out of his gloom and he has since become an successful businessman taking over his grandfather's business. Amy and Laurie have an daughter; Bess {The Little Princess} who is attending Plumfield so that she can be near her aunt Jo. When the Laurence family came back to Concord after traveling around an bit they visited Plumfield and Amy was appalled at the way Jo ran her school. She knew deep inside that it was no different than when Fritz was still alive. But she was in her uppity mood and didn't consider that. When Laurie said that he wanted Bess to attended Plumfield Amy went into an uproar and said no. But in the end after Nan saved her daughters's life she finally said Bess could stay at Plumfield with Jo. When Amy and Laurie had some marriage problems it was their daughter with the help of Plumfield to make her and Laurie see that no matter what they still loved each other. Amy and Jo had never really always gotten along they are 'two peas in an pod'. Their attitudes are so much a like that they tend to fight an lot. But once they both calm down they apologize to each other and peace resides; at least until the next difference of opinions arises. All in all Amy fits into the March family snugly. She relies on her parents to be there and love her no matter what; and her two older sisters; Meg and Jo to be there to help her see reason when she is stubbornly denying things right smack in front of her face. | Photo of the Issue: Amy Laurence  |
| ? Trivia Questions ? 1- Where were Laurie, Amy, and Bess before they came to Plumfield? *And the bonus question* --Trivia Questions Done By: Tracy. |
| "Little Women" (1949) Movie review: by: Sara In this movie review I'm not going into any detail about the story. It is just the same as the book and every movie. Just this version was done differently. This version followered the book more closely. Take the opening scene; the March sisters bemoan their bad luck that Christmas. Just as Lousia May Alcott wrote in her first sentence of her now classic novel. We see Jo who was played by an wonderful actress act out her play and getting her sisters to join in the fun. The following scene we see the March sisters going to the general store and shopping and buy what they wanted for themselves. We see their consicuess get the better of them when they get home and see their beloved Marmee surffer silently. Not only did Marmee not have enough money to get what she wanted but her beloved husband was off Chalping in the Civil War. We see the March sisters gather their greedy little gifts and going back to the store and buying some presents for their Marmee. When Marmee see's what was under the tree she was so happy in her daughters. The one complaint I had during the entire movie was that Amy who Lousia wrote as younger than Beth was older than Beth in the movie. They also kept Beth an little girl all through the movie. When in fact Lousia wrote that Beth died of an wreak heart when she was an in her early womanhood. Around nineteen I pictured. But in this version they had her die at age twelve. I recomended this movie to all of you "Little Women" buffs out there. Perhaps your mother's will walk down memory lane with you or even your grandmothers. The scene was done wonderfully. Everyone involved in this version deserves an standing obverstion and they have one from me every time I pop this golden treasure in my VCR and watch it. You can buy it on VHS at any movie store in your area. {I don't know if it's on DVD yet.} CAST: |
| ? Trivia Answers ? 1-London. | * Trivia Quotes *
1-You can never have too many books, Dan. And the featured quote of the month, is:
10-I was always looking to you for help. I still am. |
| Litte Women was based on LMA's life . . By Ruth C. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott is one of the worlds most beloved novels ever written but, few people knew what lead Louisa to write the way that she did. They don't know why she made the character the way that she did. That is why I am writing the article to let people know why the novel was written the way it was. If have read my two part article you would know it was all about Louisa May Alcott life. well I have come to the conclusion lately that Louisa's family including Louisa herself was not right in the head. In fact the only member of her family that I think actual came out normal was Louisa's sister May. The novel Little Women is great effect by that fact. Louisa was approached by Thomas Niles in 1868. He suggest that she should write a novel for girls. Louisa at first refused to write the novel that made her famous, but in the end she decide to go ahead and write it. Louisa made the March family based on her family. Meg the oldest was based on Anna Alcott. Meg was written to be the prefect daughter. Anna thru out her whole life had obsession with be good. So it is no wonder why Louisa thought she was so perfect. Jo was based on Louisa her self. Jo is seen as being tomboyish and wild. Louisa believing she was the cause of her family troubles had Jo carry all the March family's problems. Such as take care of Beth before she died. Louisa also punished Jo be give away her lover Laurie to Amy. Jo then ended up marrying Professor Bhaer. It is obvious that to Jo he more a friend then lover. Beth who was based on Beth Alcott dies from a illness just like the person see based on. Both just didn't have the desire to live. Lastly we come to Amy March who was based on May Alcott. Amy is given every thing she wants in Little Women. She was given a trip to Europe as well as Jo's lover. Louisa was jealous of May because May actual lived her own life. Louisa on the hand lived her life thru her family. So as you can see the truly is more to Little Women the one comes to believe there is. Author note: I don't mean to sound like I have something against the book Little Women. I don't. It is my all time favorite book. I just want show to
people how much more to the book there is. I also have nothing against
Louisa May Alcott. To be honest I feel sorry for her. I really would also just like to reach out and hug her. |
| Nat's Corner - Review and Summary by: Arrow In my opinion, a well-formatted fanfic is a good fanfic. What I mean by a ‘well-formatted' fanfic is properly paragraphed, meaning-full and complete sentences with imaginable actions & dialogue. This issue's feature fanfiction does justice to this piece of ‘fanfiction philosophy'. It has these elements. All the paragraphs are short, and straight to the point. Of course don't get me wrong… there's nothing wrong with long paragraphs or paragraphs that don't immediately go to the point. It's just that an average reader, someone, who isn't obsessed with the topic of the fic, is more likely to leave a fanfic if it seems too long and doesn't get to the point after a certain amount of time. Unless the fic is meant to stay off the point completely. The sentences are as complete as they need to be and the actions and speech are believable. There is no unnecessary scene, action or dialogue between the characters and the atmosphere is just right. Another interesting quality of this piece is the way flash backs from the original book are placed and blended in with the story. It was beautifully done. Overall, this story was excellent and I really enjoyed reading it; I suggest you have a go at reading it too if you already haven't. Summary: A conversation about Fritz between Jo and Nick as they ride back to Plumfield after Jo's visit to his grave. On the Way Home- Josephine March Bhaer trailed her fingertips across the words engraved in the cold marble, her silky lashes fluttering softly against her cold, wet cheeks. Beloved Husband and Father. The words were few, and though she could have thought of a great many words to described her dear Fritz, each word held so much truth and meaning. Fritz. It was still so hard to believe that only two years had passed since his death. It seemed like so much longer - like eternity. But she had the children. They kept her on her toes with their constant antics but she loved every minute of it, and she loved them like they were her own. And there was Nick…he had done so much for her. Still, she would always have that small place in her heart reserved for Fritz - her beloved husband. Others would surely come into her life, but she would always remember him and the wonderful years they had shared together. Her dear Fritz; she would always love and respect him. "Ready ta go, Jo?" Nick Riley asked, his quiet words breaking through her thoughts. He tightened his jaw slightly, silently berating himself for intruding upon her privacy. Jo glanced up, brushing a gloved hand across her cheek. With a slight nod of her head, she said, "Yes, I'm ready." She stood up and straightened the long, thick folds of her skirt, casting a lingering gaze at her deceased husband's grave before joining Nick. When Jo stepped up beside him, Nick noticed the sadness in her eyes; the grief in her becoming features. He felt so guilty. She asked for so little with all that she gave, and he had denied her of the one thing she cherished most, all because of a confounded thunderstorm. "I-I'm sorry, Jo." Nick's voice was low, full of sincerity. Refusing to meet her gaze, he held out his hand like a gentleman, ready to offer his assistance. Jo accepted, and stepped up into the wagon. "It's all right, Nick," she said softly, her quivering lips curving into a small smile. She had no idea of the extent of the guilt he was struggling with, though she hoped her words would quell whatever he was feeling. Climbing up, and sitting beside her, Nick tipped his head ever-so-slightly in acknowledgment. He gathered the reins, and after flicking Marty across the rump, clucked the gelding on his way. Marty gave a snort of protest, but broke into a jerky trot nonetheless. As the wagon slowly rumbled down the lane, Jo glanced back over her shoulder. Fritz's gravestone faded into the distance, leaving an unexplained emptiness. A single tear rolled down her cheek before she turned around, folding her hands in her lap.
Nick's heart wrenched, but he said nothing; offered no indication of his feelings. It was not right to proclaim his undying love when she was still - clearly - grieving deeply over the death of her husband. He shifted in his seat, his shoulders slouching forward in the typical, carefree way that most "drivers" did. "Ya alright, Jo?" He couldn't help but ask the question. Jo glanced up; her chocolate eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Yes, j-just fine," she assured him distractedly, letting her gaze linger on him no longer than necessary. "Thank you." She caught the inside of her bottom lip, suddenly growing uncomfortable. Nick Riley wasn't stupid - he would surely see right through her. He simply knew her too well. "Wanna talk 'bout it?" he ventured to ask, his eyes never straying from the road. He'd seen right through her facade, just as she predicted. Jo swallowed, and failed to answer right away, leaving Nick wondering if he had overstepped his boundaries. But then, much to his surprise and relief, she laughed softly; the frown of troubled confusion disappearing.
Jo smiled, and dipped her head, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of rose. "I was just-just thinking about Fritz..." "Oh." Nick focused intently on the road, pressing Marty a little faster. If Jo noticed Nick's sudden interest in the landscaped, she gave no indication. "...About Fritz, and when Nat first came to Plumfield. He'd been here for less than a week when Fritz and I discovered his great struggle with telling lies." She grinned softly. "Nat Blake? Tellin' lies?" Nick's brows raised with incredulity. Nat telling lies? He never would have guessed it. "Yes." Jo nodded her head, trying not to chuckle at the look of utter disbelief on Nick's face. "They were never very serious ones. In fact, to some, his little fibs would have been considered "little white lies", but as we all know, a lie is a lie. " It was Nick's turn to nod. That was true. A lie was a lie, no matter how big or small. "So, what d'ya do 'bout it?" "Well," Jo started thoughtfully, "Fritz often broached the subject with him, but it never seemed to much good." Then, she gently threw her head back, laughing. "Then again, there was one evening in particular…it broke the habit easily - at least for a few months..." "We can never be too careful; watch your eyes, you tongue, your hands. It is easy to look, act and tell untruths, even when we don't mean to," he warned Nat gently, his eyes still holding the love and warmth felt for the boy.
"I know, sir and I don't mean to do it," Nat said quietly, his eyes traveling to the ground as a faint blush colored his pale cheeks. "But it's so much easier to get along if you ain't fussy about being exactly true. I started tellin' them because I was afraid of father and Nicolo - and now I tell them sometimes 'cause the other boys will laugh at me. I know it's bad sir, but sometimes…" he let out a small sigh of childish distress, "I forget." Nat's earnestness with the truth tugged at Fritz's heart. The boy was shy, yes, but he had a true desire to do the right thing. "When I was a little boy, I used to tell lies, just as you do. What fibs they were! My old grandmother finally cured me of it - how, do you think?" Fritz looked up at Nat, who was listening attentively to his every word. "How, sir?" "My parents talked, cried and punished - but I still forgot as you do. Then my dear old grandmother said, 'I shall help you remember, and put a check on this unruly part,' and with that, she drew out my tongue and snipped the end with her scissors until the blood started coming." Nat's eyes went wide. Mr. Bhaer wouldn't do that to him...would he? "That was terrible, you may believe," Fritz started again, catching the terrified look on the young man's face, "but it did me much good because it was sore for days. Every word came so slowly that I had much time to think before speaking. After that I was more careful, and got on better, for I greatly feared old grandmother's big scissors." Unfortunately, that did little to ease Nat's fears. His eyes remained wide and his features still held the stricken look. "Yet, my dear old grandmother was most kind to me in all things," Fritz informed him, trying to assure his student that she wasn't a brutal woman. "She was?" The words were no louder than a hoarse whisper of disbelief. "She was. When she lay dying far away in Nuremberg, she prayed that little Fritz might love God dearly and tell the truth." Fritz raised his graying brows, wondering what Nat's final response would be. "Well sir, I-I don't have any grandmothers..." he hesitated, wondering whether or not he should continue, "but...but if you think it will cure me, I'll let you snip my tongue," he finished heroically, trying to hide his grimace. He hated pain, but wished greatly to stop telling fibs. Fritz shook his head, smiling, rather proud of Nat's display of courageousness. "I think I have a better way. I tried it once before, and it turned out quite well. See now, when you tell a fib, I shall not punish you - but you shall punish me." "Punish you?" Nat asked, startled at the very idea. "You shall ferule me in the good old-fashioned way, the way I seldom do myself. But it may make you remember better to give me pain rather than to feel it yourself." "Strike you, sir? Oh, I couldn't!" Nat cried out in despair. "Then mind that tripping tongue of yours." Fritz chuckled softly, but then returned to seriousness. "I have no wish to be hurt, but I would gladly bear much pain to cure this chief temptation of yours."* "Well," Jo touched her bottom lip thoughtfully, "It made a strong impression on Nat, and as Fritz predicted, the love of him was more useful for Nat rather than fear for himself. Every once in awhile though, despite his much effort, poor Nat forgot to watch his tongue, and Fritz would carry out his proclamation." Nick's traveled back to the road, and he nodded his head. "Soun's like a mighty fine idea ta me." "He thought of some things that I never would have thought of myself," she commented softly, her voice holding undeniable admiration for her former husband. "The children loved him dearly…" Jo's tone grew soft, her eyes misting with new tears. An' so do you, he silently added, feeling a small wave of melancholia falling over his features. "As they love you, Nick." Her sincere comment took Nick by surprise. His gloved hands involuntarily tightened around the leather reins, his heart tugging with emotion at the few, simple words. As they love you, Nick. The children loved him? Dearly? He swallowed, overwhelmed by the unexpected burning at the back of his eyes. "Awe, how ken they not?" Nick teased finally in good nature, unable to respond seriously. He didn't know what to say; her statement knocked him off a little more than he would ever have imagined. "You big Casanova," Jo said, laughing as she gently elbowed him in the side. "What is with you men?" She rolled her brown eyes heavenward in mock annoyance. Nick chuckled, despite his struggle to hold a wide grin in check any longer. "This shower'll be might nice fer the kids' gardens," he said after a few moments of boisterous laughter, hearing a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Jo clapped a hand to her mouth; another fit of giggles settling in. "Oh, Nick, you should have seen the look on Rob's face." "Huh?" He made no effort to try and hide his bewilderment. Women. "The look on Rob's face," she repeated, "the one when Fritz told the children they were little gardens." "He tol' the kids they were li'l gardens?" Nick raised a dark brow. "Little gardens." "Whatever, Jo. Whatever ya say." Nick rolled his eyes in a "yeah, sure" way, suppressing a snicker. He was accustomed to Jo Bhaer's peculiar ideas by now - he had been around her enough. Paying no heed to his taunting, Jo started to explain. "It was Sunday evening. Demi and Daisy were over for the weekend, and we had all just settled in the parlor, preparing to have our 'Sunday evening talk'." Every one was tired and worn out, no doubt, but each boy kept his wits awake, knowing they would be called on at least once during the time to share their 'views' on the story. "Are you goin' to tell us a story, Papa?" Rob asked, blinking his eyes sleepily. "I might," Fritz smiled, deciding to leave them in a small amount of suspense. "Please do!" boys from around the room begged, clapping their hands together. A hearty laugh escaped Fritz's lips and he beckoned for them to quiet down. He had every intention of telling one, and assured them so. "Once upon a time," he began, in the dear old-fashioned way; "there was a great and wise gardener who had the largest garden ever seen. A lovely and wonderful place it was, for he watched over it with the greatest skill and care, and raised all manner of excellent and useful things."
Small 'ohs' and 'awes' filled the room, each child's face bright with intrigue and attentiveness, already caught up in the story just shy of being started. "But," Fritz continued, rather gravelly, "despite his good care, weeds would still grow in his fine garden; often the ground was bad and the good seeds sown in it would not spring up-"
"The poor ol' gard'ner," Rob interjected, his blue eyes filled with childish sympathy for the man he didn't know. Jo raised her eyes and smiled at her husband, brushing back Rob's bangs to place a kiss on the small forehead. "Sweet little Rob," she murmured softly. After things had quieted down again, Fritz continued. "He had many under gardeners to help him. Some did their duty and earned the rich wages he gave them; but others neglected their parts, and let them run to waste, which displeased him much." "They didn't do their work?" Nat asked, wide-eyed with evident disbelief. Fritz nodded his head. "That's right, my boy. They didn't do their work. We must always be careful, and responsible to do the things we are told. But the old gardener was very patient, and for thousands and thousands of years he worked and waited for his great harvest." "He must've been pretty old," Demi commented, squinting his face slightly. "Do people even live that long?" "Hush Demi," Daisy insisted, "it's just a fairy story."
Jo took the liberty to answer that one. "No Demi, people don't live that long." She smiled at the young boy. "I think it's an arrygory," Demi chimed in. "What's an arrygory?" Tommy asked. "Go ahead and tell him, Demi, if you can. And don't use words unless you are quiet sure you know what they mean," Fritz reminded patiently. "I do know!" Demi exclaimed excitedly, eager to prove his knowledge. "Grandfather told me. A fable is an arrygory; it's a story that means something. My 'Story Without an End' is one, because the child in it means a soul; don't it, Aunty?" "Yes dear, that's it. Uncle Fritz's story is an allegory, I am quite sure. So listen and we'll soon find out what it means," Jo replied, chuckling at the boys' enthusiasm. Demi squirmed, settling as soon as Fritz returned to speaking. "This great gardener gave a dozen or so of little plots to one of his servants, and told him to do his best and see what he could raise. Now this servant was not rich, nor wise, nor very good-" "Then why'd he give it to him?" Emil interrogated suspiciously. "The gardener had been very kind to him in many ways, and the servant wanted to help because of it. So the servant gladly took the pots and fell to work. They were all sorts of shapes and sizes, and some where very good soil, while some rather stony, but all of them needed much care. In the soil, the weeds grew fast, and in the poor soil, there were many, many stones." "What was growing in them besides weeds and stones?" Nat wondered curiously, out loud.
"Flowers," Fritz responded kindly, smiling at his shyest student. "Even the roughest, most neglected little bed had a bit of heart's-ease or a sprig of mignonette in it. One had roses, sweet peas and daisies in it-" he reached over and tapped little Daisy's rosy cheek before telling any farther. She let out a childish giggle, flushing slightly. "Another had all sorts of curious plants in it, bright pebbles, a vine that went climbing up like Jack's beanstalk, and many good seeds just beginning to sprout. For you see, this bed had been taken fine care of by the wise old man, who had worked in gardens of this sort his whole life." Jo caught the grave, wistful expression that crossed her husband's face, knowing how much he desired to do his duty with the little garden plots gathered all around. "As I tell you," Fritz said, eyes traveling around the small audience, "some of these beds were easy to cultivate - that means take care of, Daisy - and others were very difficult. There was one particular sunshiny little bed that might have been full of fruits and vegetables as well as flowers. But it wouldn't take any pains and when the man sowed," he paused, thinking, "we'll say melons, they came out to be nothing because the little bed neglected them so." Small murmurs filled the room; all eyes fixed intently on the older man sitting on the settee. "The man was sorry and kept on trying, though every time the crop failed, all the little bed would say was, 'I forgot'."
Everyone laughed loudly, quickly looking at the blushing Tommy sitting in the chair. They all knew how he favored melons, as well as using 'I forgot' as an excuse. "I knew he meant us!" Demi cried out, clapping his hands together. "You are the man, and we are the little gardens. Aren't we, Uncle Fritz?" His eyes glimmered with excitement as he regarded his dear uncle. Fritz chuckled softly. "You have guessed it, Demi. Now each of you tell me what crop I shall try and sow in you this spring, so that next autumn I may get a good harvest out of Jo's little boys..." |
| * Trivia Quotes Answers * 1-Jo, Philanthropy. | Do you have a problem that you can't talk to anyone about? Do you need advice, but you don't know who to turn to? "Dear Jo" A coulumn that gives advice without asking for any imformation, all for free! If you have a question, e-mail me at littlemenfan@excite.com, and I'll forward it to "Jo". Dear Jo: Dear Tearing my hair out: Note From Rachel: I somehow managed to misplace some of the answers to questions that have been sent in. I still have the questions though, and I will send them to Jo again for her reply, and they will be in future newsletters. Sorry for the delay. |
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