Isabella Alden (1841–1930)

I had vowed not to read this book, because the Christianity espoused in the first of the series was so foreign and confusing to me. I was sure that I would find the second book equally confusing or frustrating. But after a few other series where the second book took a different tack than the first, I changed my mind. Regretfully.

As a work of fiction, it's fine, I guess, not unreadable. But it's not meant to be truly fiction. It's a rules of religion book that says girls who convert to the show more legalistic Calvinist religion should expect to be ostracized and alone in their convictions, but to know that they are better than everyone else for all that. The fiction plot suffers badly from this, and I had a lot of arguing with Pansy about her slippery slope logic and the message that if the girls aren't prefect in their Christianity, they are responsible for everyone else's foibles.

It got to a point where every time I opened the book, the first lines on the page made me so angry with Pansy that I couldn't bear to read further. And so, I am leaving it unfinished. I had hoped to see some of the messages play out, maybe not be so strictly legalistic or against the joy of living in the world God has provided. But who knows! Strict Calvinism is not the religion I grew up with.

There's bad logic to what Pansy says, often slippery-slope, but sometimes it's also just illogical. There's a scene where Flossie leads a Sunday School class. They're talking about the "truth will set you free" verse. The boy says satan seems like an invention of men who don't want to own their choices/poor behavior. The narrator laughs how this contradicts what he said a few minutes prior and that it's bad sophistry. But as far as I could tell, the boy had only been owning up that he didn't put effort into his faith. I looked back to the beginning of the scene but didn't see any obvious contradictions. It was confusing! The point seems to be that satan *does* exist, and men *aren't* responsible for their actions because they've been tempted to evil?

That plays into the slippery slope parts. The girls don't know why card-playing is wrong, even if they're not gambling, even if it's just at home in the evening with family. There's a verse that is quoted for it: "if meat shall cause my brother to sin, I shall eat no meat." It's a prohibition on things that are a temptation to immorality to someone else, as well as a little anti-hypocrisy. It's applied to dancing, too. "You let men put their hands on you while dancing, but only while dancing" is one of the arguments - and if the men enjoy dancing so much, they might go down to a dancehall, where they'll be tempted with liquor and sex workers. You are responsible for others' choices. One of the girls asks "what about croquet?" and it's dismissed as not a problem because "that's not as commonly known for gambling as cards". But it's ridiculous to me: if someone is that inveterate a gambler, they can bet on anything. Since horseracing is popular for gambling, does that mean two or more people can't go riding together, lest some observer makes a bet about which rider will reach a certain point first?

By the way, I found it really baffling how at the beginning of the book, the outcast/persecution element is played up, with the girls all alone in their new faith. They make missteps or feel alone and persecuted because no one offers to help them. At first, I was really confused, like are they the only Avowed Christians in the entire town, other than the pastor? Why aren't they welcomed to the fold?

I guess I had hoped that the other Christians in town would see them returned from Chautauqua, appearing at the prayer meeting, attending/teaching Sunday School, and actually do the things the girls are told Christians do.

It just doesn't make sense to me, since part of True Christianity in the book means constantly reaching out to potential Christians and not leaving anyone for lost if they show any interest, as the girls did. It was very unsatisfying from a fiction perspective, though I'm sure Pansy must be trying to say that being a Christian of her sort is alienating, but important to press on in spite of being at odds with society.

Another plot element that was unsatisfying involved the wealthy Ruth Erskine, who is described as a bit shy. She relies on social etiquette and proper behavior to get through life, and feels at sea when she doesn't have those guidelines or is asked to do something outside the norms. So she asks the pastor "what kind of Christian work can I do? I want to do something" and demurs from most suggestions because they're too forward/not in her realm of politeness. What does he do? he sets her up to fail. A list of people to visit, no explanation or advice.

Ruth knows about visiting the poor and unchristian with charity and tracts, so she assumes that's what this is. And then gets laughed out of the two houses she attempts because she's so completely wrong.

It seems so unkind to not make sure she knows what she's being asked to do!

I much prefer the Christianity of the Bessie books by Johanna Mathews from the 1870s, or the Three Vassar Girls series by Elizabeth Champney in the 1880s. They're kinder and more forgiving, but still very Christian. show less

I am not the reader for this book, but I thought I should read it anyway. Turning the Pages of American Girlhood cites Pansy (Isabella Alden)'s Chautauqua series as one of the most read by American girls in the late 19th century, alongside the Little Women and Elsie Dinsmore series.

This first installment is about the spiritual awakening of four friends of very different personalities and backgrounds at the August 1875 Chautauqua Assembly. Three of them are nominally Christian, while the show more fourth is well-educated in Christianity but doesn't believe in any of it. The book is entirely dedicated to recounting what it's like to be at Chautauqua, with a selection of the lectures and activities summarized for the reader, and detailing the arguments the girls make as they reach their revelation and decide to become fervent and devout.

I was disappointed because there is very little about the girls' friendship - in fact, they often seem cruel to each other! particularly towards Flossy Shipley, who represents the frivolous person who simply doesn't think much about religion or her faith, and is more concerned with what others think. But as I came to realize, this book isn't truly about the four girls. They're just an excuse to present arguments for becoming actively, outspokenly Christian.

Ruth Erskine is the one who thinks of religion as a requirement for a good social reputation, and who makes all the signs such as attending church every week, giving generously to the collection box, etc, but doesn't think of it on a personal level, or in any way that inconveniences her. She is used to great wealth that makes her life easy.

Eurie Mitchell knows what is expected of true believing Christians, but she thinks it's all a bit much, and prevents the good times she wants out of life. Maybe she'll change her ways eventually, she knows she ought to, but not just yet.

Marion Wilbur is the intellectual "infidel", whose early years were in a devout household, and who knows everything about what Christians believe and how they should behave, but who isn't a believer herself, and only sees hypocrisy. Her revelation is "what if Christianity is true, and she knew how to be all along, but dismissed it, even as she pushed others to be more upright and devout ?"

Frankly, I suspect I am too cradle-Catholic and 21st century atheist to appreciate the arguments Alden lays out for each of these four types. I found much of the first part, talking about conversions and how the girls weren't Christian, to be baffling. Don't they (except Marion) already believe and attend church? Once that was clarified for me, I still felt like i was missing something in the spiritual awakenings. I never had the experience to relate to them, I suppose. (And to clarify: the arguments that sway them, the things that mark them out as True Christians, those were things I was raised to find as natural as breathing. Even the "personal relationship to Jesus" was one I knew from a young age. So it was all a bit foreign and incomprehensible to me.)

I suspect readers for whom Alden's arguments confirm their priors, and who have had their own moments of spiritual awakening, would get a lot more out of the book, and find it much more emotionally moving.

I enjoyed reading about the assembly and how Chautauqua functioned. It sounds like an interesting time, though two weeks of non-stop sermons seems exhausting to me. I can see why this book and the series would popularize the annual event. And as a bonus, it has a few elements of romance and adventure for 19th century girls who are limited to "improving" books only, and not "novels".

Do future installments have plots shift away from arguments for being Christian, and towards living the faith in the face of difficulties? I won't know any time soon: the didacticism and foreigness of this one are too much for me to want to continue, even as I can understand the appeal to the right kind of reader. show less

This is a hard book to rate. Quite often I found it tedious and the characters stereotyped. And Tode, (or Theodore as he was later known) was annoyingly perfect . Plus I’m not really a fan of the intense focus on temperance. But in the end the book got to me. I have a number a members in my family who have struggled with alcoholism, and its effects have been devastating. This book helped me to rethink their situations, and how challenging it is for people addicted to alcohol to avoid it.

This is a very hard book to rate, and at one point I was about to give up on it, I'm glad I persisted with it, as though I found it challenging in many regards, I did benefit from reading it. While I believe it was originally intended to be a children's book, I'm very glad that I didn’t read it as a child. The Christianity in this book is rather rigid, and at times legalistic. Had I read it as a child it would have been a huge stumbling block to me. So I would suggest that if parents give show more this to their children to read/listen to, that they either experience it together, or they make it a topic of conversation. While the book's Christianity is deeply sincere, the cultural changes since it's writing, and certain theological issues warrant parental guidance.
I listened to the Librivox audiobook, and while I appreciate the narrator's efforts I did not find her enjoyable to listen to. show less