Take a photo of a barcode or cover
4.09 AVERAGE
4.09 AVERAGE
Even with all the starvation and cold this story is cozy. The story is so full of gratitude as Laura grows up and matures and we get to see Almanzo Wilder's point of view more often as well. A great addition to the series.
Our edition of this book is legitimately falling apart, as my sister and I have read it to pieces. It's very well worn, and very well loved!
I love The Long Winter. It's so well written. Lots of nostalgia with this re-read, which was also a little surreal, reading it during a 90 degree + Texas summer.
I'm enjoying all of the Little House books, but this one has been the best to date.
First, Laura's a teenager here. She's assumed many more grown-up responsibilities around the Ingalls' home. Not only is her work becoming more critical to the operation of the household, she's starting to be let in on the dangers of her family's life in a way that she's not been before. In The Long Winter, Laura faces the very real possibility of losing her family and her own life. She witnesses her parents shift their ideals, strange as they seem to modern audiences, to suit the needs of the family. Ma lets Laura help Pa with the summer haying despite her claim that only immigrants let their daughters do such work. Laura's assistance not only helps Pa avoid sunstroke, but it contributes greatly to their survival in the long winter.
One thing I love about this book is that Ma finally loses it. She doesn't go completely ape, but she snaps at Pa and just in general acts much more like I do on a daily basis (but without the profanity). I feel like I can relate to her better now, even though the hardships that cause her to lose it are relentless blizzards and the impending starvation of her family while I lose it when over something like my husband leaving the empty cat food cans in the sink rather than rinsing them out immediately and putting them in the recycling. Still, the proof that Ma ever loses it at all helps me feel a greater kinship to her.
I also really enjoyed the bits of discussion in this book about the double-edged sword of technological advance. Whether it's Ma complaining about their reliance on kerosene or Pa concerned about their reliance on the trains, the point is that while technology brings us great gifts, we quickly become dependent upon their fruits and find we can't live without them.
I find that I often use the Little House books as a model for how I ought to live my life. We experienced a four-day power outage in our New England home after the freak snowstorm last October, and listening to The Long Winter (I listened to the audiobook read by Cherry Jones), I constantly thought back to just how ill-suited our home (and our family) is to inclement weather. When we're cut off from electricity, we can do nothing. Our food spoils, we can't heat our home, we can't cook, we have no hot water. Luckily we're on city water and sewer and don't rely on a sump to flush our toilets and run the taps, or we'd not have been able to stay in our home during that cold, dark four days. My thoughts turned to how to make our home less reliant on the "grid" and I realized (yet again) how little my husband and I know about the workings of our dwelling. While I wouldn't want to live in a 250-square-foot home with my family, I can certainly see how doing so would (could) simplify our lives. I find myself yearning for knowledge about sustainable energy sources and uber-insulation and woodstoves, but in the end, daily life intercedes and I get tied up once again in the daily tasks of doing dishes and washing clothes. That and the knowledge that the longest we've lived in any home in our adult lives is two years is enough to discourage us from any major renovations, regardless of the purpose.
In the end, though, the thing that struck me was how close their family is. They have restraint and concern for the other family members and don't just blurt things out whenever they think of them. They don't yell at each other. They don't clamor for the bigger share of possessions or food or parental affection. When they're down (and they're not down unless the wolf's not just slavering at the door but has pulled up a chair for supper), they sing together or read together or just sit together and tell stories. Maybe learning how to make hay or how to ground wheat in a coffee grinder aren't the lessons I should be getting from the Little House books.
But then, our coffee grinder is electric, too.
First, Laura's a teenager here. She's assumed many more grown-up responsibilities around the Ingalls' home. Not only is her work becoming more critical to the operation of the household, she's starting to be let in on the dangers of her family's life in a way that she's not been before. In The Long Winter, Laura faces the very real possibility of losing her family and her own life. She witnesses her parents shift their ideals, strange as they seem to modern audiences, to suit the needs of the family. Ma lets Laura help Pa with the summer haying despite her claim that only immigrants let their daughters do such work. Laura's assistance not only helps Pa avoid sunstroke, but it contributes greatly to their survival in the long winter.
One thing I love about this book is that Ma finally loses it. She doesn't go completely ape, but she snaps at Pa and just in general acts much more like I do on a daily basis (but without the profanity). I feel like I can relate to her better now, even though the hardships that cause her to lose it are relentless blizzards and the impending starvation of her family while I lose it when over something like my husband leaving the empty cat food cans in the sink rather than rinsing them out immediately and putting them in the recycling. Still, the proof that Ma ever loses it at all helps me feel a greater kinship to her.
I also really enjoyed the bits of discussion in this book about the double-edged sword of technological advance. Whether it's Ma complaining about their reliance on kerosene or Pa concerned about their reliance on the trains, the point is that while technology brings us great gifts, we quickly become dependent upon their fruits and find we can't live without them.
I find that I often use the Little House books as a model for how I ought to live my life. We experienced a four-day power outage in our New England home after the freak snowstorm last October, and listening to The Long Winter (I listened to the audiobook read by Cherry Jones), I constantly thought back to just how ill-suited our home (and our family) is to inclement weather. When we're cut off from electricity, we can do nothing. Our food spoils, we can't heat our home, we can't cook, we have no hot water. Luckily we're on city water and sewer and don't rely on a sump to flush our toilets and run the taps, or we'd not have been able to stay in our home during that cold, dark four days. My thoughts turned to how to make our home less reliant on the "grid" and I realized (yet again) how little my husband and I know about the workings of our dwelling. While I wouldn't want to live in a 250-square-foot home with my family, I can certainly see how doing so would (could) simplify our lives. I find myself yearning for knowledge about sustainable energy sources and uber-insulation and woodstoves, but in the end, daily life intercedes and I get tied up once again in the daily tasks of doing dishes and washing clothes. That and the knowledge that the longest we've lived in any home in our adult lives is two years is enough to discourage us from any major renovations, regardless of the purpose.
In the end, though, the thing that struck me was how close their family is. They have restraint and concern for the other family members and don't just blurt things out whenever they think of them. They don't yell at each other. They don't clamor for the bigger share of possessions or food or parental affection. When they're down (and they're not down unless the wolf's not just slavering at the door but has pulled up a chair for supper), they sing together or read together or just sit together and tell stories. Maybe learning how to make hay or how to ground wheat in a coffee grinder aren't the lessons I should be getting from the Little House books.
But then, our coffee grinder is electric, too.
The snow we've had this month was so horrible and difficult I thought I needed a little perspective to feel better. A reread of The Long Winter has me glad that it has only been a few weeks and Spring will be here soon. Blizzard after blizzard from October to April would be so much more difficult. Of course I looked up from the last page and noticed that it started snowing again.
Re-read for the Maud list group read. I think this is the first time it really registered to me just how harsh (and claustrophobic) that long winter was.
I must have started and set aside a half-dozen books before I settled into The Long Winter. I'm finding it difficult to read in these uncertain times, but I saw Ruth recommending Long Winter on her blog A Great Book Study this week and I decided to give this book a try.
I'm very glad I did. If you are feeling worried and anxious, The Long Winter is a good book to read.
The Long Winter is the true story of the Ingalls family during a terrible season of blizzards that extended from October to late April. The Ingalls moved into town so they would have sturdy quarters as well as access to the supplies the train would bring through the winter. Deep into the winter, they learned the train would not be arriving, and there would be no new supplies. People were terribly worried as that would mean no way to stay warm and no food.
Reading about the way the family and the community worked together to help each other was helpful for me. It was also useful to put our current crisis into perspective. And it was somehow reassuring to see that not everyone was able to act in ways that put the needs of the group ahead of the needs of the individual; this was no whitewashed version of the situation.
This is historical fiction, and the attitudes and prejudices of the times are part of this story, so be prepared for that.
But, in spite of these, The Long Winter is a good story for these times, I think. It reminds me that people have always faced terrible situations, and that we must work together to overcome them, putting the needs of the group before our own selfish interests.
I'm very glad I did. If you are feeling worried and anxious, The Long Winter is a good book to read.
The Long Winter is the true story of the Ingalls family during a terrible season of blizzards that extended from October to late April. The Ingalls moved into town so they would have sturdy quarters as well as access to the supplies the train would bring through the winter. Deep into the winter, they learned the train would not be arriving, and there would be no new supplies. People were terribly worried as that would mean no way to stay warm and no food.
Reading about the way the family and the community worked together to help each other was helpful for me. It was also useful to put our current crisis into perspective. And it was somehow reassuring to see that not everyone was able to act in ways that put the needs of the group ahead of the needs of the individual; this was no whitewashed version of the situation.
This is historical fiction, and the attitudes and prejudices of the times are part of this story, so be prepared for that.
But, in spite of these, The Long Winter is a good story for these times, I think. It reminds me that people have always faced terrible situations, and that we must work together to overcome them, putting the needs of the group before our own selfish interests.
Wow! What a story. I'm almost glad that I never read this when I was younger. I don't think I would have appreciated the magnitude of what they had to live through. And it meant so much more knowing that the experiences described here were based on actual events. This definitely deserves its Newbery honor, and I'm VERY glad that I finally got around to reading it! I never thought any of the other books in the series would come close to eclipsing my love for [b:Little House in the Big Woods|77766|Little House in the Big Woods (Little House, #1)|Laura Ingalls Wilder|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266467292s/77766.jpg|1200805] which I read over and over as a child, but I think this one might have done it. It's a story that makes you cold, but also very grateful for the blessings you take for granted that surround you every day. It also makes me think wistfully of living a simpler life. And now I look forward to reading the next in the series where I know Almanzo again plays an important part in the story!
A favorite quote:
"If only I had some grease I could fix some kind of a light," Ma considered. "We didn't lack for light when I was a girl before this newfangled kerosene was ever heard of."
"That's so," said Pa. "These times are too progressive. Everything has changed too fast. Railroads and telegraph and kerosene and coal stoves--they're good things to have, but the trouble is, folks get to depend on 'em."
Note: I'm shelving this series as both historical fiction and autobiography since it really is a bit of both.
A favorite quote:
"If only I had some grease I could fix some kind of a light," Ma considered. "We didn't lack for light when I was a girl before this newfangled kerosene was ever heard of."
"That's so," said Pa. "These times are too progressive. Everything has changed too fast. Railroads and telegraph and kerosene and coal stoves--they're good things to have, but the trouble is, folks get to depend on 'em."
Note: I'm shelving this series as both historical fiction and autobiography since it really is a bit of both.
The events described in this volume of the Little House saga are grim, to say the least, but Wilder manages to inject glimmers of hope that prevent it from being too depressing to bear.