I’m the first one to admit that I love the Little House series. Just the books, I’ve never seen the show, but despite them being children’s books, I’m captivated by the world they show. They are the original cottage-core phenomenon hundreds of years before it caught on. I reread them every few years on my own and even thought I might create Little House on the Prairie Bingo for my little sister to try. While I wouldn’t consider myself obsessed with these books, I’m definitely fascinated.

The Little House books combine ingenuity and beautifully detailed tableaus of life in the pioneer times. They were heavily edited in order to capture that wonderment even during its rougher moments. Who wouldn’t be caught up in the world that Laura Ingalls-Wilder so skillfully weaves?

Going back to the books feels like being a child again and growing up with Laura. As I get older I can appreciate how the books grow up with their main character and allow more of the awfulness in the world to seep in without removing the hopeful atmosphere of the books entirely. I even wrote a post about Little House books for adults to try and capture that atmosphere again.