If I could have dinner with anyone...

         You know that question “If you could have dinner with anyone who would it be and why?” The answer is pretty easy for me. Aside from my grandmother whom I miss every single day, it is Louisa May Alcott. She is my absolute favorite author. (But, you say, none of her books are on your recommended list. This is true. I adore all of Louisa’s books, but those three from Wednesday’s post have hit me in the heart, hard. They have made me cry, contemplate my life, and have changed me. Louisa inspires my writing; those books inspire me.)

            So why would I so desperately love to sit down with Louisa May Alcott?

            To begin with, she had a biting sense of humor, the kind I appreciate the most. Biographers all cite her wit, and if you have ever read Transcendental Wild Oats you have seen that satire and sarcasm were an especial talent of hers. I can imagine sitting at a sidewalk café with her, listening to the running commentary on passersby. I have a feeling that she could put many of today’s top comedians in the shade. As well, she was an incredibly intelligent woman. She had little formal schooling and never attended college, yet became a teacher herself as well a writer, magazine editor, nurse, abolitionist and suffragette. She railed against the constraints of her class and sex and then chose to do something about it. She never apologized for being the tomboy that she was in a time when women were expected to act with ladylike diffidence. Her devotion to her family was absolute: she was the main breadwinner when her high-mindedly oblivious father couldn’t be bothered to find any type of work; she paid for her youngest sister to attend art school abroad and purchased a house for her older sister and her sons.

Her letters and diaries show a woman of resolute strength of will with a truly loving soul.  And yet, like so many of us, she doubted and second-guessed herself and her actions. She wondered if her work was good enough, if she had put enough effort into caring for her mother and sister Elizabeth, if there was more she could have done. I’m not going to ask how many of us have felt that way; everyone does at least once in their lives. What matters is that she didn’t let those doubts or concerns stop her. She wrote 43 books, was the editor for Merry’s Museum girl’s magazine, and wrote countless poems and sketches for newspapers and magazines which are still being uncovered to this day.

Her writing ability was above par. Her “blood and thunder” thrillers that she loved to write (and made her the most money) are mysteries bordering on psychologically disturbing. For someone that studied human nature only by way of observation, her forays into how a person can go wrong are astonishing. On the other side of the literary spectrum are her children’s books, filled with good humor, good morals, and a whiff of home-baked goodness. Her book Under the Lilacs is one of my absolute favorite children’s books. You would never know that she found writing for children incredibly dull.

I feel there is so much I could learn from her. My writing is influenced by her style and language use, but lessons about every day life, facing each day with confidence and integrity and balancing everything with a good solid dose of humor…I wish I could share a pot of tea and some biscuits with her, and watch the world go by. Instead I will visit her home and grave in Concord as much as I can, and commune with her in spirit.