I was going to need to toughen up, quick. The meek might inherit the earth, but if the meek are going to play Nellie Oleson on TV, the meek are going to get pummeled. (p. 118)

In censoring the title, I realize that this post might not make it into any search engines, but…read my Home Page, I guess.

I also know what you’re thinking: “First he reviews the Dahmer memoirs, and now those of Nellie Oelson? The cabin fever’s setting in for poor little Elliot!”

Yeah, I get it. But having just gotten through season number six of the Little House on the Prairie with my wife and kids (with all of us voting to quit watching it shortly into season seven), I figured it’s now or never on this one. While most would opt for “never,” I really wanted to give it a shot. I was moderately rewarded for my efforts.

I enjoyed some of the behind-the-scenes looks at the show (which differs so greatly from the books that they’re barely worth comparing). I guess the biggest surprise for me was how the girl who played Mary Ingalls was a standoffish anti-social little jerk girl (p. 55 and elsewhere), and that the girls who played Laura Ingalls and Nellie Oelson were actually the best of friends off set. That sort of put a new spin on things for me as I watched the show, and it also makes me want to check out Melissa Gilbert’s memoirs, Prairie Tale.

An equally big surprise to me from this book was Alison’s admission to all her readers the sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her older brother during the years leading up to and even into the series’ run. The darkness from which child actors shine (and into which many of them eventually descend) is abhorrent and evil, and it makes me think that “the statute of limitations” might be one of the worst aspects of American law on the books today (barring Roe v. Wade, of course, the government-sanctioned execution of innocent civilians). It makes me think of such celebrities as Corey Feldman whose stories make you want to just stop watchin TV or movies, to stop feeding the perverts and pedophiles of America headquartered in Hollywood. [Insert your favorite Jeremiah Wright quote here.]

A third surprise to me from this book was how America ultimately reacted to sweet little Alison Arngrim, as they confused her with the villain on TV, and how this treatment helped shape the woman she is today. Two quotations from early the book set this progression out nicely:

What was supposed to have been simply a really good gig, a major role on a long-running TV series, with lots of good times and fun memories, has instead morphed into a bizarre alternate version of reality, where I am repeatedly held to account for the actions of a fictitious character as if they were my own. And not just any character. A bitch. A horrible, wretched, scheming, evil, lying, manipulative, selfish brat, whose narcissism and hostility toward others knew no bounds. A girl who millions of people all over the world had grown to hate. (p. 4)

By making me a bitch, you have freed me from the trite, sexist, bourgeois prison of “likeability.” Any idiot can be liked. It takes talent to scare the crap out of people. (p. 6)

And so throughout this memoir we get to witness the beginnings and maturation of Alison Arngrim, the girl who played horrible little Nellie Oelson, but who also turned into a successful comedienne and an advocate for AIDS research and its victims. The latter portion of the book, in fact, deals with this transition for Alison, specifically with the relationship she had built with her on-screen husband who was in fact her off-screen best friend, a closeted gay man who later died of AIDs. It’s a touching story and lends a whole lot of humanity to the faces we see on our TV or computer screens.

I’ve shared some of these behind-the-scenes facts with my wife since finishing this book, but I have not shared them with my kids, because I really don’t want to ruin Walnut Grove, MN (a.k.a. the hottest desert in Los Angeles County) for them. Some truths to the fiction need to remain hidden, at least for a while. They can read these books later if they want. Or, if they’re smart, they can just read dad’s book review blog. I know which of the two I’d recommend.

©2020 E.T.

Read More from The Little House Series:

• Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1932)
• Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1933)
• Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1935)
• On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1937)
• By the Shores of Silver Lake by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1939)
• The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1940)
• Little Town on the Prairie Laura Ingalls Wilder (1941)
• These Happy Golden Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1943)
• On the Way Home by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1962)
• The First Four Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder (1971)
• Little Farm in the Ozarks by Robert La MacBride (1994)
• Little House on Rocky Ridge by Roger Lea MacBride (1993)
• Confessions of a Prairie B*tch by Alison Arngrim (2010)