#newbery

I’d say that the overarching plot thread is that Caddie learns some new information about her father’s past in England (no spoilers here) that could lead to the family uprooting their cozy life in the U.S., but that's only expanded upon in one chapter in the beginning and maybe two near the end. (On an unrelated note, the family dog also somehow makes his way from Boston all the way back to Wisconsin ((!!!)) on foot after being taken by one of Caddie’s uncles for a season.)

Regardless of believability — because I don’t want to act like an old man for two posts in a row, plus whether it's a true account or not isn't really the point — it was an easy, entertaining read. I’m noticing a trend in some books written in the earlier part of the 20th century: They are much more likely to have chapters that are relatively self-contained and don’t contribute much to an overall plot thread. I’m guessing the authors that wrote those types of books came up with the setting and characters first and then put them in a handful of tricky situations to write about, not the other way around.

As an example of what I mean, I'm thinking of the Hunger Games series, in which it feels like many facets of Katniss' personality are just reactions to direct plot-related events. For example, she's resourceful and is able to survive during the Games because she lives in a poor District, she discovers she needs comfort from Peeta and gets closer to him only as a result of participating in the first Games, and she feels so strongly for her sister that she volunteers as tribute in her place because she's taken on the role of a mother to her because her mom was unable to care for them after her husband's death. There seems to be a direct event mentioned in the book that explains or relates to every individual aspect of her personality.

Instead, with Anne Shirley, her personality is the force that influences the plot. She accidentally dyes her hair green because she hates her red hair; she doesn't falsely admit to losing Marilla's special brooch just to get out of punishment because she is strong-willed, etc. If Anne weren't already these things, the actions in the chapter wouldn't have taken place.

In A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and our previously reviewed Thimble Summer (published in 1938), chapters were more or less just giving information on the characters and their families or contributing to a one-off plot line, similar to someone telling a story from their life during a long car ride or right before bedtime. I really like this style of storytelling because it feels lighter and more whimsical. It’s the YouTube short or Instagram reel of early to mid-1900s children’s literature, yet neither vapid nor pointless — its length caters to developing attention spans; it's usually filled with lovable characters who always have good intentions, even if their actions backfire; and serves as a vessel for morality and life lessons (because those are always good, right?).

There’s just something comforting and relaxing about reading a story that is more a like a collection of cozy anecdotes than a fast-paced Hunger Games-style book that gives you whiplash from the plot’s urgency. Think Chicken Soup for the Soul, but with children riding horses and raising turkeys.

The author based the book entirely on stories her grandmother told her about her youth, which would have been self-contained by nature. This makes sense, as the contents of our lives don't have easily identifiable rising action or neatly packaged exposition. In a storytelling class I'm currently taking, I'm finding it difficult to even construct a real narrative around something as vague as “I had a horrible first date once” or “I went on a strange camping trip." Even so, just describing one thing after the other (in this case, Caddie taking apart a clock) is enticing enough to make us want to hear more, just like putting one foot in front of the other:

“It was more of a task than she had supposed. But Father's tools were there on the shelf, and she found a screwdriver of just the right size she needed. The back came off, revealing the wheels and springs. Caddie knew enough about clocks to see what was the matter. The circuit rider had wound his clock too tightly, and in some way the spring had caught so that it could not unwind as it should have done. Caddie looked it over carefully. Then she began to loosen the screws which held it in place. She had to loosen several before she found the right ones. Time slipped away unheeded, she was so deeply absorbed in her work. Her cheeks were flushed and her face, bent low over her works, was contained by her dangling curls.”

As an example from a similar book, Anne of Green Gables had the chapter about the missing brooch, the chapter about breaking her chalkboard over Gilbert’s head, and the chapter about Diana accidentally getting drunk on raspberry cordial, but all of those were isolated incidents that felt more like a serialized story that came out piece by piece in a magazine than a cohesive novel. The events in the chapters all give insight into the kind of character Anne is (honest, hotheaded, and a little foolish in each of those tales, respectively), but taking one out or mixing up the order wouldn’t change much of anything about the book itself. It's just pleasant to learn more about someone, and isn't that a big part of why we read fiction in the first place?

...I spent a lovely August afternoon a few weeks ago writing a very different type of blog, but the iPad Tumblr app decided it wouldn't save the hundreds of words I'd added after this point. Still, I think my ~thesis~ has come to an end.