My Favourite Things: Eight Cousins
You are probably wondering, "What is this talking about?" Eight Cousins? I have more cousins than that, so what is so important about cousins? Actually, this isn't about my cousins, as that would probably not fit into this post, I would need a lot more space to tell that story, but this is about the book that hooked me onto classic literature. Before I discovered the whole of science fiction and fantasy, but that is also for another blog post.
I actually read this one at my memere's house one year simply because I could not settle down to any of the gothic mysteries she kept in the house; I guess I wasn't old enough to tackle those (that would come the following year), and was at a loss as to what to read. I was going through a kind of slum where the books I brought
Eight Cousins, where the cover was falling off, and I thought to myself, we don't treat books like this, I need to fix it. So, off I went searching for glue and tape, and of course, as I was walking, I started to read the first page. Couldn't help myself. Next think I knew, I was curling up in my memere's swing, cozy as a hatchling, and NOTHING could entice me to leave my spot, not even the invitation to go cycling through some big (and I mean big) mud holes. When I am turning down a chance to play in the mud, you know something's up. For those of you who are not familiar with Eight Cousins, this is the story of Rose Campbell, a shy young lady who goes to live in a household with her many aunts and many cousins. The questions being pondered in this book surround the struggles of a wealthy young girl just trying to fit in with those around her, and then her struggles as she grows up. It features some strong adult characters, even if the kids are a little too good to be believable at times. It's just a wholesome story in itself. And the adventures the kids have are a lot of fun.
Little Women. I had my first experience with how much a book can send you through the wringer and make you cry and then make you feel hopeful. It was quite an emotional punch for such a young girl, but this was the book that made me realize exactly what a book can do to your emotions and how invested you can get in the characters. I still get shivers when I think about poor Beth.
To this day, I have the complete Louisa May Alcott collection on my shelf as well as Lucy Maud Montgomery and Laura Ingalls Wilder. They are hidden away so they don't get ruined, but one day I will pull them out and give them to my daughter. Maybe she will experience the love for books that I did, and develop a lifelong passion just because that right book landed on her lap at the right time. Or maybe not, but at least I can try. Cheers, everyone!!