Beautiful descriptions of country locales in all the seasons interweave with a gradually
evolving feminist plot.

Still wonder why Nan could not combine her chosen Country Doctor career with an eventual marriage
as did her guardian and wise teacher, Dr. Leslie. Grandmother Thatcher and Marilla are also memorable. ( )

Somewhere, I read that Willa Cather had claimed that Sarah Orne Jewett had been influential in her own development as a writer. Given that old Willa had developed rather nicely—I've read ten Cather books now, and there's not a pig in the bunch—I considered taking a flier on Sarah. Then, I vaguely remembered her name from 11th grade English, and given that Miss Garner, my 11th-grade English teacher, was the first great love of my life, the decision to read Jewett became pretty much a no-brainer. If it's good enough for Cather and Miss Garner, it ought to be more than good enough for the likes of me. And, indeed, it was that. I found this to be a really engaging book.

A young woman shows up on her mother's doorstep, after having been absent for some years, carrying a young child. The young woman expires, but not before requesting the local doctor, Dr. Leslie, become the official guardian of her daughter, Anna Prince. The grandmother brings the girl up for the first few years of her life, with regular check-ins by Dr. Leslie. Anna grows up fairly wild and undisciplined for a few years on her grandmother's farm, developing, thereby, a deep love for the wilds of Maine. After her grandmother dies, she goes to live with Dr. Leslie and takes interest in his work. Eventually she accompanies him on some of his visits, shows interest in and aptitude for doctoring, and determines that she would like to become a country physician herself.

So she studies to be a physician and so forth. And naturally, given that this was published in 1884, most people disapprove. Woman, after all, were created by God to be home makers and to please their husbands. Period. It says so in the Bible. Double Period! (Damn! How come no one told my spouse she had been ordained by God to please me? Ah, the difference a century makes.) So we have this conflict, and wonder how it might resolve. Well, we don't wonder if we've read the book. But, I'm not going to tell you about all the difficulties and self doubts and resolutions and re-resolutions, along with all the trips around the luminous country and visits to simple country folk and meeting a rich, lost aunt after a couple of decades of speculation about her and temptations to embrace old-fashioned "domestic felicity", and so forth. It's worth reading to find out.

This book carries lots of interesting descriptions of the people of Maine at the time and their diversions and interests. A lot of that, of course, involves snooping on the neighbors and engaging in idle gossip. But it is portrayed very realistically and sympathetically by Jewett (I hear echoes of some of my more elderly New Hampshire in-laws and also my Kansas kin). She also takes time to describe the settings of her scenes, the flowers, trees, birds and so forth. Sometimes, excessive descriptive passages can get tedious and boring, such as, for example in Mrs. Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho (this, based on my recollection from when I read it on the London Underground back in the dark ages). I didn't find the description of settings and people to be tedious in the least in this book. I'm guessing that means that Sarah Orne Jewett was a much better writer than Mrs. Radcliffe, despite the latter's having influenced the incomparable Jane Austen.

There's also lots of interesting philosophical discussion about the human condition and the place of women in the world and so forth. As I read this book, I realized that it should be popular with feminists (well everyone, it's a good book, and besides, we should all be feminists by now), and wondered how in the hell feminist studies could skip this book (or Anne Brontë's works—much more feminist than her more famous sisters) and instead include Kate Chopin's piece of dreck, The Awakening. Or maybe they don't anymore; but the point remains, Chopin's book is crap and should long ago have been tossed into the dust bin. It should make proper feminists cringe. This book, not at all. ( )

Somehow I had never read a book by Sarah Orne Jewett, so I was glad to be introduced to her through a book group as this book is a remarkable feminist novel for being written in 1884.

Anna Prince is brought to her grandmother's house in Maine by her dying mother, and then is taken to live with the town doctor when her grandmother dies. She is a charming little girl, but serious and bookish and becomes interested in medicine at an early age.

Her interest in medicine increases as she grows older. Although the ladies in the town do not approve of her pursuing such an unladylike profession, she remains adamant in her choice of a vocation and goes off to medical school after high school.

Halfway through her studies, she receives an invitation from her her father's sister, Nancy, to visit in the seaside town of Dunport. Her aunt, who has been sending the doctor checks for her support her whole life has never shown any interest in her niece, but now seems to want to connect with her only living relative. Aunt Nancy is stern and austere, but is quickly charmed by Nan's generous spirit and begins to hope that Nan will marry her protege, George Gerry and settle down in Dunport.

Nan, however, has other ideas. and how she stands up for what she wants would make any feminist today very proud. ( )

Nan Price is adopted by a doctor as a young orphan (there's a lot of them around in nineteenth-century women's literature) and grows up to become a doctor herself. Despite the title, which might make you think this book is about a country doctor, this actually happens in the last chapter. So is it about her going to medical school? Not really, as that all transpires "off camera" so to speak. Mostly it's about her adoptive father the doctor, who is admittedly fairly cool, but tends to talk a lot about the dangers of medical science. I do not think I have ever read a book where so many pages went by yet so little happened-- but inexplicably I was almost never bored! The pages just rolled by, and I read them. On the other hand, I never got excited either. There's some interesting, if muddled, discourse about inheritance here: Nan has to have negative, unmotherly traits because of her mother, but she also has to be a doctor because of her environment... and yet her being a doctor is also a calling from God. Nature, nurture, or divine influence? Who knows.

Nan Price was orphaned in infancy, then raised by her grandmother, until her upbringing is finished by Dr. John Leslie. A case can certainly be made that the eponymous doctor is our Dr. Leslie, rather than the heroine. But I won't make that case now.

Definitely a product of its time, "A Country Doctor" recounts the massive 19th Century roadblocks standing the the way of a young woman ambitious to be a doctor, and how she overcomes them. Jewett unfolds her story with abstract expositions that deal with specific emotional and interpersonal interactions. It reminds me (on one level) of Henry James, except that Ms. Jewett's way is plainer and clearer, and just as deep. The author portrays Nan's choice as a test of not only perserverance, but also of conscience, in a way that simply would not apply today. That is one of the reasons, obviously, to read this book.

The other reasons are that the author's descriptions are full, her characters are deep and well-shaded, and she delivers a life-affirming outcome. I don't know that I would necessarily term this book a classic, but it's certainly worth your while, not only for the historic interest, but also the simple appreciation we take in a well-told, satisfying story. ( )