Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

I read quite a lot of older books as a child.  L. M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, Frances Hodgson Burnett, Gene Stratton Porter–their writing styles were as comfortable and familiar to me as anything written during my lifetime, and reading books written in the late 19th and early 20th centuries is still a beautifully nostalgic thing for me.  (Provided, of course, that they’re written by the above sorts of authors rather than by, say, Thomas Hardy.)  Jean Webster’s Dear Enemy was just such a delightful trip back to the literary worlds of my childhood.  It’s more of a companion novel to her Daddy-Long-Legs than a true sequel, as it follows Judy’s college friend, Sallie MacBride, as she takes over the running of the John Grier Home; in between discharging the gardener, placing out children for fostering or adoption, and convincing anyone with the means to contribute to the JGH to do so, she works and spars with the young Scotch doctor who sees to the orphans, laughingly addressing him as ‘Dear Enemy’ in their professional correspondence.  (My apologies.  That was quite long enough for a sentence!)  The ending surprised me not one whit, but I so enjoyed the journey–Sallie as a narrator is a lovely combination of idealistic, determined, frustrated, and hilarious, and the world of her orphan home completely engrossed me.  If you have fond memories of reading those authors I listed above but haven’t read Jean Webster, you’re in for a treat.  And who doesn’t need a treat this time of year?