A classic romance originally published in 1884 by Helen Hunt Jackson (Oct 15, 1830 - Aug 12, 1885).

This is one I have never heard of before until my daughter, just a couple of weeks ago went hiking on the Seven Falls Trail to Inspiration Point in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and ran across a memorial for this author, Helen Hunt Jackson. She immediately sent me a screenshot, knowing two things about me: I love graves, and I love reading, which this book, “Ramona” was mentioned on her memorial. What we didn’t notice in the photo, at first, was that the author and I share the exact same birthday, October 15th, except she was born 130 years before me. So, of course, I HAD to read her book.

After the death of Helen’s first husband and two sons, she met and married her second husband in Colorado Springs. They moved to San Francisco where she became an activist for the rights of the Native Americans, which she wrote about in a previous book, A Century of Dishonor (1881). And three years later, she would write this romance novel, Ramona (1884), based on the prejudices and racism from the migrating Americans to the west, and also the prejudices from the Mexicans, just as the Mexican-American War for the California territory was ending in 1846.

I will now have to add her book, A Century of Dishonor, which depicts these governments exploits to find out her truths. I do believe the things shown in this novel could and probably did happen, knowing the nature of mankind, and also for the fact that my ancestors, the Acadians, experienced a very similar fate up in Nova Scotia in 1755, a whole century earlier, an event known by all Cajuns of today as the Great Deportation.

The story line was actually pretty good, better than some of the other classics I’ve read. But, when I got to the last 1/3 of the book, the author completely failed in trying to write a southern Tennessee accent. It could have been forgiven if it hadn’t been used so extensively and in such lengthy paragraphs. I struggled to decipher just exactly what was being said, and I’m from the south. All in all, I’d give another shot at another book written by this author.

I also have a free eBook from Amazon on my Kindle...4/12/2021. ( )

Holy hell, that was a challenge! I only wanted to read a story set in California, and thought a nineteenth century 'classic' might provide an interesting history of the land. Wrong! Helen Hunt Jackson wanted to write a novel which would do for the Indians of Southern California what Uncle Tom's Cabin did for the 'cause' of the African Americans, but instead produced a pulp romance novel which sold thousands of copies but had no overall cultural impact. After ploughing through this melodramatic tripe, I could have told Mrs Jackson where she went wrong - like James Cameron believing that the tragedy of the Titanic needed superimposing with a cliched romance to make history sell, she drowned the devastating message of her novel in frothy, sensational soap suds.

I remember the song 'Ramona' ('I hear the mission bells above, they're ringing out our song of love') but had no idea the lyrics came from the title song of a 1920s film based on this claptrap. Ramona is the unwanted half-Indian, half-Scottish - randomly - adopted daughter of a Mexican woman who takes on her jilted lover's bastard child and then dies, passing her onto her sister who hates the child. Ramona, of the black hair and blue eyes, is beloved by everybody except Senora Moreno, because she is good and pure and sunny and strong and superior, and whole list of other overused adjectives. She is a typical heroine of Victorian fiction, 'childlike' and subservient to men. When a team of Indian sheep shearers start work at the Moreno ranch, one of the more educated and cultured of the hired help, Alessandro, falls in love with Ramona and the two plan to marry. The Senora, who should be glad to get Ramona off her hands and away from her pathetic son, Felipe, perversely objects to the match, forcing Ramona to run away with Alessandro (after the obligatory period of pining). In the mean time, Alessandro's village is stolen from the Indians by the Government to sell onto white settlers, which rightly pisses him off and also unbalances his mind. Alessandro and Ramona, whom he renames 'Majella' and refers to in the third person even when talking directly to her, travel around California looking for somewhere safe to settle. They move to the mountains, where they meet a family from Tennessee who speak in barely decipherable dialect - I stopped trying to read what 'Aunt Ri' was saying (those who think Joseph in Wuthering Heights is bad should hold onto their hats) - but the harsh living conditions cost them their baby's life, which sends Alessandro over the edge. Men are so weak, honestly. He develops a kind of intermittent dementia and is eventually shot down for 'borrowing' a white man's horse (based on the real murder of an Indian by a man who then claimed 'self defense'), and Ramona swoons herself into unconsciousness while others fight for justice. Never fear, however, here comes Felipe, who has been searching for Alessandro and Ramona ever since his mother died, to the rescue.

Look, I was disgusted by the treatment of the Indians, or native Americans, who were driven off their land and onto 'reservations' by the US government, but this Victorian potboiler isn't the right platform for highlighting any kind of social injustice, then or now. None of the characters are convincing, especially saintly Ramona, the dialogue is either stilted or incomprehensible, and the narrative is leaden and long-winded. I thought I was suitably acclimatised to purple prose, but even I found this a chore to read.

Kudos to Mrs Jackson, who died two years after her novel was published, for pouring out her heart and trying to do good for others, but for your sanity, avoid this like the plague. ( )

Extraordinary! ( )

The review for this book is given with the first edition copy that I have in my library. ( )

Popular Novel made into a movie during silent film era starring Mary Pickford. Focuses on strength and mistreatment of women, and on the historical landscape of San Diego county. Hotel in Old Town San Diego was named after novel. ( )