The Verdict Is In On The ‘Little House On The Prairie’ Reboot

Fans of “Little House on the Prairie” can rest easy. I’ve been studying Laura Ingalls Wilder for decades, and I love the new Netflix rendition of her story.

While binge-watching it over the past several days, I hung on every scene, taking in the scenery, the characterization, the story lines, the innovations. I was hooked from the opening scene of the first episode until the closing credits of the eighth and final episode. The cinematography, the writing, the acting, the themes, and the action all swept me away and brought me to tears more than once.

As a kid, I read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s “Little House” novels over and over. I dressed as Laura for Halloween. I faithfully watched the original television series. As a mother, I read the books to my children and showed them the various television miniseries as well as the television series produced and directed by Michael Landon, who played Charles Ingalls. These television adaptations run the gamut of staying close to the novels to straying very far from them.

But no matter how big the departures from the “Little House” books, all of these renditions, especially the new Netflix one, embrace the family-centered wholesomeness of Wilder’s novels. Far from presenting a woke version of the beloved story, Netflix’s new series celebrates life and human dignity as it explores the very same questions raised when the novel was published by Laura Ingalls Wilder in 1935.

The autobiographical novel follows the Ingalls family as they depart from the Big Woods of Wisconsin to settle as farmers on the Osage Diminished Reserve in southeastern Kansas. Charles Ingalls (Pa) acted on news that the Osage lands would be open to settlement as soon as the tribe signed the treaty. The plan was to arrive just as the Osage removal had taken place, in time to select a choice parcel of land. But the Osage had not decided whether to sign the treaty, and their presence creates the central tension of the book.

When “Little House on the Prairie” was published in 1935, no other author asked the questions Wilder put to her readers. Why did the Ingalls and other settlers choose to settle in Indian Territory if they didn’t like Indians? Why were potential settlers told the Osage Diminished Reserve was available for settlement before the Osages had decided whether to sign the treaty? Why did the government make the tribe leave a place that had been designated Indian Territory? Netflix’s new cinematic version places these questions from the novel firmly at the center of its riveting rendition, creating new characters and story lines that bring those tensions into the everyday realities faced by the Ingalls family.

The release of the cast list made clear that a host of newly invented characters would join the Ingalls family in southeastern Kansas. Teasers showed the Ingalls family taking an active part in the town life of Independence, Kansas, which is a new angle to the story. (The novel has the family living some 40 miles from the town, a distance that made trips there something of an annual occasion; in reality, the Ingalls’ homesite was 13 miles from Independence.) But the relationships and story lines that keep plots moving forward for an entire season’s worth of episodes need a town. I’m willing to allow for that suspension of disbelief.

Showrunner Rebecca Sonnenshine and her crew of writers and producers have crafted a beautiful series that is simultaneously true to the themes and story arc of Wilder’s novels, cognizant of the timeline and history of the “real” Ingalls family, and creative in spinning new characters and story lines that build the themes and give texture to the story arc. Other minor characters from the novel appear in greatly expanded roles, such as Dr. George Tann, the black doctor who nurses the malaria-ridden Ingalls family back to health. The endearing Mr. Edwards gains a first name (John), a backstory, and a love interest. Mr. Scott is transformed into a young single man from a wealthy Boston family. There is no Mrs. Scott, but much of her character is transferred to Jemma James, the town’s leading socialite and bigot.

The essential parts of Wilder’s novel are all there: a dangerous river crossing that results in the disappearance of Jack the dog, the necessity of finding help to build the cabin after Caroline is injured, tensions with the Osages who help themselves to the Ingalls’ food supplies, the entire family suffering from malaria, Christmas with Mr. Edwards supplying greetings and gifts from Santa, a devastating prairie fire, an encounter with wolves, tense Osage councils, and the threat of armed government officials pushing the Ingalls and their neighbors off the land.

These quintessential aspects of Wilder’s novel appear in different ways and combinations in the new series, which underscores the intertwined themes of danger and the need for community. Very early in the first episode, Dr. Tann tells Charles that independence on the prairie is an impossible dream. Throughout the eight episodes, community building plays a central role in plot development. The Ingalls’ survival depends on good neighbors who are willing to help each other.

Departures from Wilder’s novel most noticeably center on the ages of Laura and Mary and the relationships they develop. Laura seems to be around seven years old, while Mary seems to be around twelve, and baby sister Carrie was born at Christmas. In the novel, they are much younger, ages four and six, with Carrie born in Wisconsin.

In the show, Laura befriends an Osage girl, Good Eagle, and Mary has a beau, Caleb, who was abandoned by his father and taken in by the Exoduster brother and sister team who own the town mercantile. These relationships develop across the entire season. Laura’s friendship with Good Eagle brings the tensions between the settlers and the Osages into tight focus. Mary’s budding romance is just one part of her adolescent growth pangs. She is constantly annoyed by Laura and even jealous that everyone likes her best. She is tired of having to be a good role model and share all she has with her sister.

Laura’s character traits are more exaggerated than in the novel. She is a tomboy who wears a boys’ hat and expertly wields a slingshot to hunt rabbits. She loves the prairie and does not want to spend time studying. In an interesting twist, she, rather than Charles, is the family storyteller. She is often called upon to tell a story, in which moments she relates something from “Little House in the Big Woods.”

Charles’ and Caroline’s characters have also evolved in the new Netflix series. Charles is still a talented carpenter and musician and a loving father and husband. But his big heart causes trouble for his family. Caroline grows from the reluctant pioneer who dislikes Indians into a feisty champion of her Osage and Exoduster friends. By episode eight, Caroline displays the same level of sensitivity toward the Osages as Charles and Laura. Such understanding is a big departure from the Caroline of Wilder’s novels, who never changes her poor opinion of American Indians.

When there seems to be no way to remain on their homesite, she tells Charles they must move on. They came to Kansas in search of a place to become the best version of themselves. They have done this and can replicate it somewhere else. With that, the Ingalls bid farewell to their new friends and departed, with Mr. Edwards leading the way to a town in Minnesota where his deceased wife’s cousin has a store, Oleson’s Mercantile. Here’s a teaser for season two, a continuation of the “Little House” story as the Ingalls move to the banks of Plum Creek.

The new story lines and characters featured in the Netflix rendition of “Little House on the Prairie” are details to be enjoyed and celebrated, not a cause for castigation or hand-wringing about wokeness. These new twists on the beloved novel reveal that the “Little House” story arc is such a fundamental and universal aspect of American cultural literacy that the kinds of liberties taken with Wilder’s novels add to the power of the story.

The “Little House” story and its television adaptations are vehicles for discussing and encapsulating core American historical understandings and timeless values. Familial love is a constant theme in the Netflix rendition, as is respect for life and an understanding of the inherent dignity of each human person. Moreover, Netflix’s release of this beautiful new television series just days after the Fourth of July in the midst of the country’s semiquincentennial underscores the power of Wilder’s autobiographical fiction, and it further cements its place as a wholesome standard-bearer of American culture.

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Dedra McDonald Birzer is director and editor-in-chief at the South Dakota Historical Society Press and a lecturer in history at Hillsdale College. She serves on the executive boards of the Laura Ingalls Wilder Pageant Society and the Middle West Review. She is currently writing an intellectual biography of Rose Wilder Lane.

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