By the Shores of Silver Lake

I've been dipping into a reread of the Little House books for a while now (this time is the first, I'm quite sure, since childhood). They have a gentle lyricism to them that surprises me as an adult, and the pioneering details are a delight. It always strikes me now how very close to real, horrible disaster Laura and her family were so much of the time, and how careful the parents are to keep real knowledge of that horror from the children. In this one, for instance, spoiler the family lives the entire winter alone on the prairie with no one else around for hundreds of miles (and later just one other couple nearby). Even a minor medical issue or, say, a fire, would have meant death. And later, when homesteaders start showing up in the show more spring, the family boards them as there is nowhere else. Ma improvises a lock for the girls' bedroom and tells them not to come out in the morning until she calls for them. Because she doesn't want them around the "rough men." As an adult reader, I know that it isn't just hanging out with rough men that Ma is worried about it. Pa is also presented as the one who knows all (how does he know all that stuff?) and who can do no wrong. But reading between the lines, he's kind of cavalier and sometimes downright irresponsible with his family. Much of these books are chilling now, as well as fascinating and pleasant, overall. show less

This might be my favorite of the series so far. From the start of the book we know this is a time of change. Mary has gone blind from scarlet fever, the family rides a train for the first time, they move into a shanty in a railroad town, etc. I love Laura's adventurous spirit. Even when her path crosses with wolves, she's almost more concerned with their welfare than her own.

There are some intense parts in this book as well (SPOILERS AHEAD). The death of their sweet dog Jack, the confrontation of Pa on payday by angry workers, the moment when the youngest Ingalls daughter, Grace, goes missing, and a scuffle when Pa fights to place his claim for their homestead plot. Life on the prairie was not for the faint of heart.

I'm continually show more impressed with Pa's moral compass and the way he treated his wife and daughters. Even though Ma is quiet, he looks to her before making big decisions. They do not allow themselves to go into debt or take charity, but when an opportunity presents itself, like the chance to stay in the surveyor's house for the winter, they aren't too prideful to take it.

I've grown to love the Ingalls family already and can't believe it took me so long to read this series. show less

I forgot how depressing the beginning of this book is, but it picks up quickly. Laura's internal struggle between what she wants to do and what she's supposed to do, between the infinite metaphorical world of her heart and mind and the contained literal world that is her scope as a young woman in the nineteenth century is becoming more central to the stories. My eleven-year-old is re-reading this series again, and I know that her comments to me are just the very tiniest piece of what's going on in her mind about Laura. More and more I'm grateful that my daughter has such good literary friends to help her through her own growing-up.

Madame MBH just finished reading aloud to us By the Shores of Silver Lake, the fifth in the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder. We've been enjoying reading these together, and have already ordered the sixth, The Long Winter.

In this one, the Ingalls again travel west, this time to Dakota territory. Pa works for the railroad near Silver Lake, while they look for an ideal homestead site. There is a new baby named Grace, and scarlet fever has temporarily afflicted the family, particularly Mary. The family lives for now in a railroad camp, with Pa as the company store manager and payroll manager (which makes things dicey on occasion), while Ma ends up running the equivalent of a hotel and restaurant for those coming west seeking show more their own homesteads. The wild, unsettled country is beautifully described, as always in this series.

“… and Laura let her sunbonnet slip down her back so that she could feel the wind on her face and see the whole great prairie.”

"Supper was cooked and eaten, the dishes washed, and darkness was falling on the prairie. No one wanted the lamp lighted, the spring night was so beautiful.”

“Down the slope of the little hill…patches of wild crocus spread yellow and blue in the young grass….”

These stories capture a remarkable time in this country's history, when it was filled with open land, as well as both danger and untrammeled beauty. It is striking how things we'd likely take for granted make the Ingalls so happy - a well-made, delicious meal, modest gifts like a new handkerchief, or just thawing out by the fireplace. Everyone old enough works, and every pleasure is hard-won. Wolves, the elements, hard-nosed railway workers, all pose their dangers, but the Ingalls' days also reflect great joy, as they create a comfortable home and organize how to sustain themselves.

We're looking forward to the next one. show less

These are all starting to merge a bit. Laura, forever trying to get out of wearing her bonnet and wanting to be out on the prairie. Pa, always on with some new place to live that will be the right place this time.

What actually stands out about this one?

A surprising amount happens between the end of the last book and the start of this one. Everyone has had scarlet fever. Mary has gone blind! And an entire new baby has turned up mostly unremarked on.

There are a lot more people in this book. Some of them are even characters from previous books, managing to cross paths with the Ingalls again.

They go on a train! And Pa gets work helping out with the railroad! It felt like such an anachronism, after all the minimalist wilderness life, to have show more a train, and pay disputes, but I guess it isn’t, and all these things just live together.

Their luck hasn’t really changed. Pa just manages to get their claim in because his friend distracts someone into a fist fight. They get buried in snow while they sleep one night, Pa nearly gets lynched by an angry mob of railway workers, who don’t like being paid two weeks in arrears. Their final claim turns out to be full of mosquitos (well, it is next to a swamp.)

The description of the giant wolf in the moonlight, and the chapter about building the railway with everyone working like a machine are both stunningly good. show less

Never my favorite. I think even as a child I sensed the desperation in Ma at having to move yet again, the family's unstable financial situation, Laura's struggle to become a young woman of purpose and meaning in a world that didn't expect that of her. Dark book, right from the early chapters when we learn Mary is blind, Laura's exposed to "rough men" with her "fast" cousin Lena, and she's forced to give away her childhood doll, Charlotte, that she later finds upended in an icy prairie pool. Lots of pain in this book.

The Ingalls kids are getting older and are taking on more responsibility as the hardships get more difficult. Laura's becoming a young woman and her reflections and perception is changing to match that transition.

There was one part that really struck a chord with me. It's when the Ingalls are moving from the surveyors' house to the unfinished store building in town at the end of the winter. Laura reflects that she was "alone and happy" on the prairie throughout the winter, but now in town with so many people around, she's lonely. While I'm not certain how I would handle the level of isolation the family experienced during a South Dakota winter hundreds of miles from any other people, I can relate to her sentiment. I'm rarely lonely when show more I'm alone. It's when I'm surrounded by people I don't know that I feel most isolated.

My feelings about this book are a little more nuanced than they are about the previous books, but I'm still quite enjoying them. We're going back and reading Farmer Boy before moving on the The Long Winter. I figured we ought to get a sense for who Almanzo is before he starts playing a larger role in the stories. And on the positive side, I'm fairly certain that I can now, if necessary, build a railroad, thanks to Wilder's detailed description of the process.

It's still not at all clear to me, though, what the privy situation was. Did they have to trudge through the snow to the outhouse or go in a chamber pot every time they did their business? Was the privy in the lean-to? How far did they have to walk? And if the well was only 6 feet deep, how deep did they need to dig their privy?

Notes on April/May 2016 Re-read (audiobook): I forgot how depressing the beginning of this book is, but it picks up quickly. Laura's internal struggle between what she wants to do and what she's supposed to do, between the infinite metaphorical world of her heart and mind and the contained literal world that is her scope as a young woman in the nineteenth century is becoming more central to the stories. My eleven-year-old is re-reading this series again, and I know that her comments to me are just the very tiniest piece of what's going on in her mind about Laura. More and more I'm grateful that my daughter has such good literary friends to help her through her own growing-up. show less