Madeleine L’Engle is, without a doubt, a giantess of middle grade fiction. “A Wrinkle in Time” holds a place of beloved esteem in the hearts of many people. I did not encounter it at the right time or have the profundity of impression that many people have. But I have long been aware of L’Engle as a writer, mother, and interesting person. I had a vague impression that she was an undesirable mother due to her fixation with her writing and her rosy fictionalized account of a troubled family life. I venture to guess, that sense is due to this wrenching article in the New Yorker from 2004.
I had not, until recently, read L’Engle’s lesser-known fiction, beloved by her fans. One series of books, beginning with “Meet the Austins” follows protagonist Vicky through childhood in a boisterous family with three siblings. The family is headed by an overworked country doctor and an indefatigable mother of artistic sensibilities and a love of classical music. In “Meet the Austins,” the Austin family navigates the challenges and volatility of adopting a spoiled little girl whose parents have died.
Some contemporary reviewers are incensed by the portrayal of Maggie, the adopted orphan, as selfish and difficult to live with. That seems unreasonable criticism. “The Secret Garden” is an excellent book all about how unlikeable are lonely, neglected, and paradoxically spoiled children. Without a nurturing paternal and maternal influence, such a child is unlikely to change. There are other reasons one might dislike “Meet the Austins,” but Maggie is entirely believable and well written.
It’s not just Maggie who is unlikeable at times. All the children have awkward moments of being rude and annoying, messy and ill. The plot unfolds like a laundry list of minor family dramas including everything from missing children to stomach bugs, bike accidents, plumbing mishaps, and measles.
I read a recommendation for “Meet the Austins” in which the writer, a mother with three or four children of her own, described “Meet the Austins” as an annual “comfort read” for her, something she turned to when she wanted cozy and predictable. I understand the sentiment, but it might be hard to wrap your head around if you haven’t learned to enjoy children. What could possibly be cozy about an endless litany of sibling squabbles, illnesses, accidents, missing four-year-olds, late nights at work for dad, and electricity outages while entertaining houseguests? But, as melodramatic as all that sounds, it’s an accurate account of family life.
It’s not that anyone wants the noise, mess, illness, and general chaos of life with children. However, what other means is there to have them? The alternative is that they don’t exist. In order to live with children—all the marvelous fun and constant energy and intrigue—you have to put up with them being as they are. Immature people are often messy, quarrelsome, sometimes sick, and occasionally downright exasperating. But somehow they can also be a whole lot of fun.
“Meet the Austins” is a bit pedantic, but quite fun. Is it a book for children? One complained loudly that it was “the most boring book ever,” while others were mildly entertained and considered becoming invested in the plot. In the end, I read it without the kids, because they weren’t that interested, but I was. The manic zest for family life, the classical music blasting over frenetic scenes of family life, the dad getting called out for another late night while mom tends to a sick child and another “helpful” child causes a plumbing problem with the radiator: It was stupendously inspirational for the beleaguered mother in the messy middle. It’s rosy and entertaining. I’m not sure it’s of much interest to children.
Was the vitriolic excoriation of L’Engle as an artist and mother in the New Yorker warranted? That is a subject for another day. After its blistering reprisal of “Two-Part Invention,” I did, of course, pick that book up from the library and give it a read. Upon reading, I think the New Yorker was inexcusably low in its treatment of Ms. L’Engle. More on that anon!
