So as a bit of a disclaimer before I start with my actual review of Liz Rosenberg’s October 2021 middle grade biography Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott, I do without any guilt and contrition whatsoever readily admit that as soon as I received my copy of Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott, I immediately flipped to the back in order to read through both Rosenberg’s bibliography and her epilogue (which in my opinion should probably be titled as being an Author’s Note instead). Because I wanted to check if for one Liz Rosenberg in her bibliography lists not only books that portray a positive picture of Louisa May Alcott’s father Bronson (but also includes some of the more recent ones which often show Bronson Alcott as profoundly negative and majorly lacking as a husband and as a father) and if for two, in the author’s note, if in her featured epilogue Liz Rosenberg equally does not wax too much poetically and with support regarding Bronson Alcott’s idealism and his supposed exalted and as such above criticism status as being an abolitionist and educational reformer.
And unfortunately, the bibliography and the epilogue for Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott I personally and academically do tend to find both of them a trifle lacking at times, not hugely substandard by any means, but yes, I for one certainly have noticed some personally annoying and frustrating bones of narrational, of textual contention.
For while I do truly appreciate that Liz Rosenberg seems to have done quite a lot of primary level research for Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott and has thus gleaned much of her presented textual information about Louisa May Alcott and the entire Alcott family from journals, letters and the like (by both the Alcotts and their friends and acquaintances), and indeed also includes one extremely and lastingly negative towards Bronson Alcott modern biography (Eve LaPlante’s Marmee and Louisa: The Untold Story of Louisa May Alcott and Her Mother), that (and of course also in my humble opinion) far far too many of Rosenberg’s listed secondary sources such as for example Cornelia Meigs’ Invincible Louisa: The Story of the Author of Little Women as well as Susan Cheever’s Louisa May Alcott: A Personal Biography (amongst others) show Bronson Alcott as primarily an often and supposedly misunderstood idealist, a genius and therefore equally tend to make pretty much light of his narcissism, of his arrogance and actually seem to even insinuate that Bronson Alcott’s multiple and constant failures to adequately provide for his wife and four daughters as somehow being acceptable because of his charisma, his educational reforms, and that yes, a much more critical and roundly condemning of her father Louisa May Alcott contemporary biography such as Martha Saxton’s Louisa May Alcott: A Modern Biography does not even make an appearance in the bibliography for Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott, is not included and has thus probably also not been perused by Liz Rosenberg, this has definitely made me more than a bit suspicious regarding the presented text of Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott and how balanced and how necessarily critical Liz Rosenberg’s biography of Louisa May Alcott would be with regard to Bronson Alcott.
Furthermore, this also kind of rather pertains a trifle to the epilogue for Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott, since while Liz Rosenberg fortunately refrains from hero worshipping Bronson Alcott and correctly and rightfully labels Louisa May Alcott’s father as being quite thoroughly dysfunctional, she does in my humble opinion still tend to cast an often much much too positive and laudatory light on Bronson Alcott and also seems to think that since his wife and in particular his daughters unconditionally loved, accepted and respected their husband and father and seemingly were not really even all that bothered with and by his arrogance and self centredness, that this somehow should for the most part mitigate Bronson Alcott’s shortcomings and failures as a human being (an attitude with which I both personally and intellectually absolutely and utterly do not at all agree and also will never agree).
And indeed, my misgivings upon having read through the epilogue and the bibliography of Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott were and remain (in my opinion) at least partially justified, as I do have to admit that with regard to Liz Rosenberg’s actual text, that with regard to her biography of Louisa May Alcott as it is presented in Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott, I certainly do feel somewhat conflicted and have vacillated between three and four stars. Because well, while I much appreciate that Rosenberg does in fact and thankfully NOT in any way ever consider Bronson Alcott as somehow being totally, utterly above and beyond condemnation and that she also gives multiple textual examples in Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott of Louisa May Alcott’s father’s arrogance and narcissism, of Bronson Alcott behaving and acting majorly egotistically and as though the entire world was supposedly revolving around him and only around him (and that such mundanities like making money and supporting his family just did not really count, were both insignificant and not worth considering), Liz Rosenberg unfortunately still constantly and repeatedly points out to her readers in Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott how charismatic and how much of an idealistic genius Bronson Alcott seems to have been and that his family’s acceptance and uncritical love seemingly (and like she also states in the epilogue) much mitigates and lessens his sociopathy and willful neglect of his family (something that I for one consider rather ridiculously frustrating, as with these words, Liz Rosenberg basically enables the at best neglectful and emotionally distant, and often verbally abusive behaviour of Bronson Alcott towards his family, towards his wife and daughters, basically condones the regularly inappropriate actions of a man clearly insane with personal arrogance, with narcissism and massively, problematically dysfunctional).
But while I do think that Liz Rosenberg’s Louisa May Alcott biography is still a bit too easy on Bronson Alcott (and thus only a three star rating for me), yes, Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott also to and me does show a pretty nicely balanced account of Louisa May Alcott’s life (both of its tragedies and of its joys), and with Rosenberg also and definitely, appreciatively not ever making Bronson Alcott into some kind of paragon of transcendentalism (suitable for readers above the age of twelve in my opinion, but not much younger than that since the often and necessary encountered negativity and sadness in Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott could perhaps be a bit much and daunting for younger and/or more sensitive readers).
Finally, with regard to Diane Sudyka accompanying black and white illustrations (as well as the colourful and folk artsy book cover for Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott, which I am assuming has likely also been rendered by Sudyka), personally I tend to find the pictures absolutely unnecessary and more than a bit distracting and equally much too cutesy for the seriousness of Liz Rosenberg’s presented text, since Louisa May Alcott’s life story is in my opinion and most definitely NOT the sweetness and light which Diane Sudyka’s artwork in my opinion always seems to rather visually imply (and not to mention that the cover image for Scribbles, Sorrows, and Russet Leather Boots: The Life of Louisa May Alcott for and to my eyes pretty much tries to show some kind of bucolic and in tune with nature utopian existence for the Alcott family, and in particular for Louisa and her sisters, but which Rosenberg’s writing of course and very obviously shows to have often been rather the exact opposite).