Like many a young girl, I treasured the classic historical novels of Laura Ingalls Wilder. I used to read the books over and over, captivated by the descriptions of American frontier life, the optimistic themes of family togetherness and survival amid challenging circumstances, and the appealing character of spunky Laura, the author’s younger self.
And, like many other children, I had read the final book, The First Four Years, with a sense of puzzlement. It lacked the sparkle of the others. The heroine had turned bitter and unsympathetic, and the storyline, which recounted the hardships and less frequent joys of the first years of Laura Ingalls’ and Almanzo Wilder’s marriage and the birth of their daughter, Rose, felt dreary and depressing. I chalked it up to the subject matter, not being old enough to note the stylistic dissimilarities from the earlier books.
The reasons behind the differences are complex and, as has been revealed, involve a carefully concealed literary partnership. Susan Wittig Albert is best known for her mystery novels, but A Wilder Rose is riveting biographical fiction based upon research positing that Rose Wilder Lane, Laura’s daughter, was the ghostwriter for most of the Little House books. Unlike the others, The First Four Years, a posthumous release, didn't benefit from Lane’s talent.
Series fans may find this news about a beloved literary figure unwelcome, but the novel isn’t an unsubstantiated interpretation designed to stir up controversy. Rather, Albert has followed where the evidence led and fictionalized the scenarios documented in sources such as Rose’s unpublished journals, Laura’s letters, and scholarly secondary works, most prominently William Holtz’s groundbreaking The Ghost in the Little House: A Life of Rose Wilder Lane (Univ. of Missouri Press, 1993).
The result is a credible and convincing account of the middle years of Rose’s life, her tense relationship with her “Mama Bess” (her name for Laura), and the powerful forces of duty and ambition that fueled their separate and intertwined journeys as writers. It also tells a much larger story about the changes affecting America as it sank from the buoyant optimism of the Roaring ‘20s into the depths of the Great Depression.
The majority of A Wilder Rose is written as if Rose is speaking directly to the reader, and her voice brims with energy, keen intelligence, and honest directness. Framed by sections in which she interacts with one of the up-and-coming writers she mentors, Rose relates her story over an eleven-year period, from 1928 through 1939. Since the novel reads like a memoir, Rose often tells as much as she shows – but it doesn’t matter one bit. Great writers know when and how they can break the rules.
A prolific and astonishingly successful author of magazine fiction and quasi-sensational biographies, Rose is a fortyish divorcée and avid world traveler with strong connections in America’s literary community when she’s called home from Albania to care for her aging parents at their farm at Rocky Ridge in Mansfield, Missouri, population 870.
The two women are very different personality-wise. “My mother is a mystery in many ways, at least to me,” says Rose, knowing that the opposite is true as well. Having grown up with very little, “Mama Bess” is self-reliant and proud, yet bossy, overly critical, and very conscious about what others think. Cosmopolitan, adventurous, and overly generous to others – she spends money as fast as it comes in – Rose tries her mother’s patience when her bohemian New York friends come to stay and meet up against Mansfield’s small-town narrow-mindedness.
Then the stock market crash of ’29 hits, causing both women to lose their life savings – and prompting Mama Bess, who had previously written only columns for a rural newspaper, to try her hand at an autobiography. A Wilder Rose details the dire economic circumstances that drew Rose into assisting with, editing, and finally rewriting her mother’s words in fictional form, and the literary deception that ensued.
Rose’s gift for penning realistic scene-setting details are evoked through Albert’s bountiful descriptions of the Missouri farmlands, richly abundant as the novel begins: "... in an impetuous rush, the wild flume of wild plums and the pinks of peach blossom spill across the hillsides." These same lands turn heartbreakingly desolate during the Dust Bowl years.
She also provides brilliant insight into the mindset and methods of a talented commercial fiction writer – something ordinary readers rarely get to see – and New York’s vibrant publishing scene, as children’s literature establishes itself as an important, lucrative genre.
Along the way, Albert examines Rose’s personal relationships and her growth as a political activist and libertarian, provoked by her observations on how Roosevelt’s New Deal policies on agriculture affected local farmers, with decisions on their livelihood being taken out of their expert hands.
My favorite parts, though, are her wise observations on stories, truth, and life.
Although well known in her day, Rose Wilder Lane is an obscure author now, and A Wilder Rose makes a compelling case why this label is unfair. It certainly inspired me to seek out her published work. Beyond that, though, Albert’s sensitive approach acknowledges the faults in each woman’s character while highlighting their gifts and strengths: Laura/Mama Bess’s extraordinary personal history and oral storytelling abilities, and Rose’s skills at transforming her mother’s life into dramatic, page-turning fiction.
Their collaboration was fraught with difficulties, but Albert explains how in many ways it was necessary – and how the Little House books, cherished by several generations of both children and adults, wouldn't have existed without it.