Re-Watching Little House on the Prairie: The Mime that Raped Sylvia

Last week I had coffee with a friend. This is a really sophisticated, smart friend of mine with great taste. The kind of friend I usually call up if I have two tickets for experimental theatre or a night of political debate or the like. I’m telling you this in order to set you up for the surprise I felt when she confessed to me over coffee that she has a guilty pleasure: She likes to watch reruns of Little House on the Praire. A lot. And even the really bad episodes.

I can’t tell you how much this thrilled me. It’s so great to find out that it’s not just me who has guilty pleasures, even level-headed people have them. And incidentally LHotP is a guilty pleasure of mine, too. And yes, even the really bad episodes. I’ve always enjoyed it. If I had to make an estimation, I would say that it’s 10% sentimentality (sunny fields! Happy little girls running down those fields!) and 90% snark.

Because the snark is a constant and natural companion to this series, between Michael Landon’s glorified portrait of Charles Ingalls (who would always, always take off his shirt, thus uncovering a wax-like, bronze and toned torzo) and the unreasonably high number of children adopted by the already poor Ingalls family. And then there are the story lines. Oh, those story lines. I mean, it’s not like nothing happened in Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books. And yet Michael Landon has seen fit to come up with a number of outrageous and sometimes completely bizarre stories for his television adaptation. Take Mary for instance. In the books Mary went blind and that was pretty much it. In the series, Mary 1) goes blind 2) gets married to a blind guy 3) has a miscarriage 4) has a healthy baby boy who 5)  perishes in the flames in a fire at the school for the blind that she and her blind husband has started. Crazy! Like, did Mary Ingalls really need any more angst, Michael Landon? There’s also an entire episode dedicated to a raccoon that may or may not have rabies, and an episode featuring Caroline Ingalls angsting about her meno-pause. Despite the fact that Laura Ingalls Wilder never did mention her mother’s menstrual cycles in her books.

Michael Landon on the Prairie

Michael Landon on the Prairie

And then there are those episodes of the series that are just completely insane and awful, and one of those is the two-parter “Sylvia”. This episode, in which a 14-year-old girl is stalked and raped by a Walnut Grove local, is notorious among Little House fans and has even lend its name to the snarky thread in the Drama section of the Television Without Pity forums (titled “LHOTP – Pa, Ma, and that Mime that Raped Sylvia”).

I rewatched the two episodes the other day on youtube, and I thought that it might be interesting to do an analysis of the episode here.

Now, perhaps I should start with a brief summary of the episodes for those of my readers who are unfamiliar with them. The story is this: Sylvia is a buxom school girl in Walnut Grove who has blossomed somewhat early, a fact that has prompted her weird, widowed father to make her “bind herself up”: that is, to use gauze to bind up her woman attributes, because he’s paranoid and weird and thinks that being buxom and attractive means being a whore.

Even so, a creepy Walnut Grove resident has got his eyes on Sylvia. He starts stalking her and one day, as Sylvia is walking home from school, he attacks and rapes her. He’s dressed up as a mime, wearing a mask and tight black clothes (an outfit he got where exactly by the way? At the Walnut Grove Mercantile? Maybe the mercantile had a section of varieté costumes right next to their supply of beans and flour?), so Sylvia doesn’t know who he is. Devastated, Sylvia makes it home to her father who is appalled to hear of her loss of virtue. He tells her not to reveal her story to anyone.

Sylvia’s schoolmate Albert Ingalls (one of the adopted Ingalls kids that never actually existed) senses that Sylvia is upset and tries to console her, and the two youngsters fall in love. Soon, however, Sylvia starts fainting randomly, and it turns out that she is pregnant. When Albert finds out about Sylvia’s pregnancy, he is sympathetic towards her, unlike her father who isn’t convinced that Sylvia didn’t somehow lead her rapist on, and he forbids Sylvia to see Albert, and arranges for himself and Sylvia to go away to another city where noone knows of her shame. This prompts Albert to propose to Sylvia.

The engagement doesn’t please Charles and Caroline Ingalls who think that Albert is too young to be getting married, so Albert and Sylvia decide to elope. However, as Sylvia is waiting for Albert in the outskirts of the city, the mime rapist stalks her down again, and tries to attack her once more. Sylvia takes a bad fall trying to escape him, and dies from her injuries. The mime rapist turns out to be the town black smith.

I’ve seen the episode plot cited sometimes as a remarkably controversial subject matter for Little House on the Prairie, but that’s not how I see it. Quite the opposite in fact. Because one thing that really struck me upon rewatching the episodes is how entirely orthodox and reactionary the dramaturgy of those two episodes are, especially when it comes to the depiction of its main character, Sylvia, the rape victim.

In the article “Women as Children, Women as Childkillers” by Susanne Kord (an article on infanticide in German Sturm-and-Stress Literature which I read part of the research for my latest university project), Kord notices a common trait in late 18th-Century male writers’ depictions of the seduced woman: They all tend to depict the seduced woman as innocent to a degree that makes her seem child-like, in order to make the woman seem more pitiful and thus to evoke sympathy at her “fall” and subsequent misery, and so as to ensure that her character does not become a threat to the patriarchal society that she is a victim of. That’s all very well for Storm-and-Stress literature, and some brilliant literature did come out of it: Goethe’s Gretchen in Faust is among the child-like seduced women mentioned in the text.

Disturbingly, however, Michael Landon’s “Sylvia” two-parter from 1981 has a lot in common with these 18th-Century child-like seductees. The casting of Sylvia alone bears witness to this: actress Olivia Barash is the perfect mix of a child and a woman. She’s womanly buxom, but apart from this she’s presented with an very child-like personality: Cute-looking broad face, bangs cut across her forehead, small nose, and then a remarkably child-like lisp, rather like that of Cindy Brady. Add to this the fact that Olivia Barash had a career as a semi-famous child actress, and the fact that I just want to hug her, and cook her a warm meal and tug her in every time she’s on screen. Pity, sympathy and maternal instinct is what she evokes.

All this might be dismissed, I suppose, as basically irrelevant observations about how the actress portraying Sylvia happened to look, talk etc. If not for the fact that the child-like depiction of Sylvia is even more visible in the composition of the episode, especially in the point-of-view of the story.

Because, and this is my main problem with the Sylvia two-parter, the story is so much of a man’s story, it’s ridiculous. Here we have the story of a young girl who is raped and impregnated by a stranger, estranged by her father and seperated from her lover, all at the tender age of 14. And yet, as a poster on TWoP remarked once in the LHOTP thread, right from the outset of her story, all we get is a man’s point of view. Sylvia is constantly discussed throughout the episodes, and most often she’s not herself present when the discussion takes place, or even aware that she is discussed. When Dr. Baker has examined Sylvia and found out that she is pregnant, he tells Albert and we get Albert’s shocked reaction while Sylvia, who’s just learned that she’s carrying her rapist’s baby, remains dutifully off-screen. Disturbed by the news, Albert is off, not to talk to Sylvia and give her a chance to explain what happened to her, but to have a man-to-man talk with Charles Ingalls. Charles Ingalls suggests that Sylvia’s pregnancy “could have happened to her against her will” which is about the closest we ever get to someone actually saying the word “rape” in the episode. The character of Sylvia is never allowed to fully articulate to anyone what happened to her. The two times she attempts to (to her father, and later to Albert) she is overcome by tears before being able to finish the sentence.

In a discussion with Albert, (where Sylvia is of course not present) Caroline Ingalls does raise the rather interesting question: How does Sylvia feel about the fact that she’s carrying her rapist’s child? Has Albert even asked Sylvia that? Alas, the question remains unanswered as not one scene offers us an insight into Sylvia’s no doubt conflicted emotions concerning her condition.

And then the most gruelling part is the last scene of the two episodes, in which we find Sylvia dying from her injuries in her house. Sylvia’s father, Charles Ingalls, and Albert are all assembled and apparently all acutely aware that Sylvia is dying. Even so, when Albert goes to see Sylvia one last time, he lies his ass off and tells her that she is going to be fine, and in fact they’ll be getting married soon. Sylvia dies believing him, without knowing that she’s dying, and while we get to see Albert tear up several times, we never get to see Sylvia’s reaction as she becomes aware of her own tragic fate.

The irony is of course that I’m sure Michael Landon wanted this to be woman’s story, a controversial story about rape. His depiction of Sylvia’s father who is so intimidated by his daughter’s sexuality that he has her binding up her breasts is certainly an unsympathetic one. And yet the episode does nothing to challenge a patriarchal idea of woman as a weak, helpless creature unable to take control of her own destiny. It shines through even in the photography of the episodes: It’s always about the male gaze seeking out Sylvia and taking her by surprise, be it Albert and his no-good friends peeking at Sylvia through her window at the beginning of the episode, the mime staring at her from the bushes, or Dr. Baker looking up her wazoo and finding that she’s pregnant (a fact she is of course oblivious to until he tells her). We rarely see as much as one frame from Sylvia’s perspective.

My point with this entry? Well, I’m not sure I have one. Other than to say that seeing as this show is still regularly re-run and still has a devoted young audience, I think it’s important to challenge and discuss the message that an episode like this sends. As they say at Televison Without Pity: Spare the snark –  spoil the networks.

And then also to send the message to young girls to say no to mimes, I suppose.

PS: As I was researching for this entry, I came across a rather funny blog named WTF Little House on the Praire by one Rube Goldberg who describes his own blog as follows: “A 21st Century look at a 20th Century interpretation of life in the 19th Century. The goal is to answer the following question: Seriously?”
Check it out!

37 responses to “Re-Watching Little House on the Prairie: The Mime that Raped Sylvia

  1. Thanks for the shout-out!

    This is a rally interesting analysis of the “Sylvia” episodes. The part that has always irked me about this episode is how the character of Sylvia seems to be secondary to the story, which is all kinds of weird. However, I couldn’t really articulate what exactly bothered me so much. Your suggestion that this episode is “a man’s story” makes a lot of sense and is clearing up the confusion for me. Thanks!

    • It really is one disturbing episode and one that haunted me for days after I saw it for the first time at 9 years old. The fact that Sylvia is never given the opportunity to tell her story and express her feelings does seem like an injustice. Especially since she is the young girl that has to go through the unbelievably tragic ordeal. I think it is unsatisfying to viewers.

      Yes it is potrayed as a “a man’s story” but Sylvia is the one going through all the turmoil. It also saddens me that the town didn’t do more to help Sylvia after it is discovered she is pregnant and she refuses to talk about the fact she was raped. Nobody trusts the father, yet they (Dr. Baker, Laura (her teacher), Albert, and Charles) don’t worry that he might be father of Sylvia’s unborn child. That she may be a victim of incest.

      It’s disturbing to me that Caroline or Laura are not brought as a female confidant to the motherless Sylvia. Albert never once asks for Caroline or Laura’s help in getting Sylvia to talk about what happened. One would even think Dr. Baker would encourage such a relationship. In previous episodes Caroline has been asked by men to lend her female companionship to a woman in need.

      I know they believe it is not their business but this has not stopped the people of Walnut Grove from intervening in the past, especially when a child is involved.

      • Re: the incest possibility–at the time the episode was aired, father/daughter incest was an extreme taboo for television, especially one that results in pregnancy. That probably never entered the mind of 99.9% of the viewers.

  2. atthelighthouse

    Dear Rube,
    You’re very welcome! Your blog is a very interesting and fun read, and I was so glad to stumble upon it.

    And I’m glad you like my analysis of “Sylvia”! I feel like there are still a lot of aspects of the story that I haven’t covered. Like the character of Mr Hartwig (a.k.a. Mime Rapist) for instance. As you write in your recap: He’s so oddly involved in the story, and so vaguely depicted as a character, that one kind of gets the impression that the rape was all part of some evil masterplan of his to get his hands on the Webb property!

    But the “man’s story” aspect of the episode is defintely what bothers me the most about the story, and it’s great to hear I’m not alone in that sentiment! :)

  3. Excellent post. It’s interesting that the episode was supposedly about Sylvia, yet she had no agency. She was constantly acted upon and defined by her relationship to men (as daughter, as girlfriend, as victim).

    I found your site via Google. I became curious about the storyline (I hadn’t seen it, or don’t remember it) after watching a youtube 30 second video, a condensation of the story arc of Sylvia.

    Thanks for the analysis. And good use of the word dramaturgy.

  4. atthelighthouse

    Thank you for your kind words, Marisela! I’m glad you enjoyed the post.

  5. Maybe this is a very 1970’s view of an 19th century occurrence, where men controlled and decided what would happen. It might also be entirely accurate. The girl may very well have been immature enough emotionally to be unable to cope with the situation. It also demonstrated the mentality of people at the time – run away, shoot them, choke them…

  6. What was also curious to me is how did the rapist manage to also blacksmith, when he spent an odd amount of time stalking Sylvia? I mean, he hung around the woods during the weekdays when school got out, normally a time when most service businesses are open in the 21st century.

  7. She is a victim, that’s really all there is to it. They simply don’t care to make her more than that, it’s true, but I think that’s mainly because it’s television. However, who does television serve? Common people. So, ultimately, I think you’ve got a point. It is the responsibility of a storyteller to convey the truth, not the lazy truth, because the point of the tragedy is missing where it’s not just a dog dying, but a human being, even if he/she is poor. It can get touchy, because theoretically, maybe she was as dumb as a dog and maybe she didn’t really have a voice, because nurture’s self fulfilling prophecy permitted it, not having a mother, having an abusive father, and being poor or lowly.

    While they were writing the story, I’m sure they were just trying to make all ends meet neatly. If she had kept the baby and lived, then either the viewer gets attached to her controversial character or more likely, lose interest, and that wasn’t the point-point of the episode. That loses viewers. She’s a damaged, therefore disposable, character . So ultimately, again, complacently, as she’s “damaged” she’s like another sacrifice to the bigger patriarchy. It’s true. Ideally, they could have given her more spirit like Laura Ingalls to give more justice to her struggle (aesthetically?) but again, it’s TV. It’s like fast food. You’re not going to get all your (truthful) nutrients anyway.

    I doubt it’s any consolation to you, but I noticed just now again, from spending time with my nephew over the past year, a trend of female-to-male violence (actual or referenced) on Nickelodeon television network, across numerous shows. I normally don’t think much of this, because it would seem to me that women aren’t naturally “violent”, but it seems that this particular channel is laying it really thick. What does this mean? Collectively, is this their comical answer to the gender roles? That women need to be more violent? more than pink? There’s gotta be something there, unless it’s coincidental, and only meant to be funny in the way a mouse beating up a cat is funny. What do you think?

    It’s not only violence. Like in this episode right now, for instance, they are portraying the apparently normally strong-character male as weak, as if it’s funny (which it is ironic, but that’s beside the point). Don’t know the name of the show, or care: “Sorry for snooping on your phone. Can I make it up to you?” The guy momentarily responds like a sap at the girl’s offer. We know that if it were the other way around, if a guy were to snoop in on a woman’s phone, he’d be out the door, called a CREEP in capital letters. In all fairness, later, unless it was another show, they had the same situation switched, and the guy was dumped. So the writers are obviously conscious of it, at least. Double standards on Nickelodeon. And possibly everywhere (What do you think of those?) Anyway, I don’t really watch TV otherwise, because it usually irritates me. Touche….

    More about TV in respect to your observations, and other notes:

    It may seem like she has no voice, kind of like a mime herself, mute, and that the men make and judge her reality. However, TV at that time that couldn’t be so explicit. As a child, perhaps it would have been controversial for her to pronounce anything further than innuendo. That is what made The Exorcist so controversial as well. It is generally understood that the child actors themselves don’t really understand the situation at hand. In all fairness, maybe a girl that young in those times wouldn’t, either.

    As far as being explicit goes, which is what anything coming out of her mouth would be, it would also deviate further from the TONE of the show, which is what TV is about. It keeps your attention. It served the plot for her to just give way to the decisions as a weak (female) character. I suppose she could have run away, but there would be no cohesive climax, and perhaps then the rapist would still be at large.

    In that respect, they also had to kill her off, so they really couldn’t invest any viewer’s sentiment on her character. It is like she was just swept under the rug. It is likely that the extent of the motive in making this episode was to educate children about predators, but I don’t think they wanted to, or could on time, go too into the matter of sex, period, because maybe it was supposed that some parents might not have wanted their kids asking too many questions.

    In saying this, one must understand that television in itself is small, and confined to an episode (and not as sophisticated a few decades ago), catering to short attention spans for the sake of the viewer’s commitment. In this case, more of the viewers were children.

    So, although she is conveniently passive and mute, due to the bureaucratic nature of television, I don’t think they were guilty, only incidentally, because it is television. Although you are right that they could have made her character stronger, BUT AGAIN, ta-da, it would not have been historically accurate.

    Still furthermore, if her character was a woman, it’d be a totally different story, but she’s just a girl (even though essentially it is the same thing). She doesn’t really have a voice. She’s an innocent child. But, again, if she did have a voice, then she’d be MORE than a two dimensional character. Her innocence is what comes through. I do recognize the truth in that still, because, adversely, if it were a boy who got raped, I suppose he would have more of a voice. So you’re right in that it doesn’t necessarily empower women or younger girls who have to deal with this, than to say “if you get raped, you’re screwed.” Sloppy.

    But again, you must also consider the question: “If I were a rapist, who would I attack?”

    It’s hard to decide what should be allowed on television, most importantly with the business of stereotypes. Nobody usually likes them. That’s another thing I don’t like about television (and media in general) is that they typecast people, actors, so you are taught to expect and obey stereotypes as a tool or handle in any story, for the sake of “fit.”

    However, it really can be about more than just gender and rhyme, about what’s universally true, in regards to where nature and nurture diverge, like any kind of dominance for instance, like the general fact that it is in woman’s sexuality to yield or to tend to yield, not to initiate.

    I mean, I know women deal with crap just like us (smaller) guys do. I have heard a couple people say things along the lines of “you speak big for a little guy.” And I have said, “So, just because I’m (or he is) little I (or they) have to act LITTLE?” The answer is no, and the question that remains is how metaphysically predisposed are we? How much control do we have, how ruled are we by our conditions, and how responsible CAN we be when portraying someone in a story? It seems that you’re asking the same thing.

    So in this “TV sense”, she was demeaned as a character, but I don’t think it was entirely their intention to demean her as a female, besides somewhat accurately depicting her role of the female at the time, however complacently. Women didn’t have a voice in those times, and it’s messed up.

    ON THAT NOTE! (HAHA) I enjoyed reading about this, and stepping into your point of view. I’m glad I decided to read it. Cheers.

    P.S. I saw this episode when I was five, 25 years ago, and it’s the only one that stuck, because it basically traumatized me. I downloaded it to revisit the experience, to see how it compared watching it now to how I remembered it, especially because nobody ever believed me when I told them about a Little House On the Prairie episode where a girl gets raped by a mime. So, I had to prove it most of all.

    P.P.S. I apologize for any grammatical errors or the like in my reply which may make it hard to read, but I must get some sleep! I’ve been on here for way too long!

  8. I was just looking for Prairie snark in general and came across this post.

    I never really thought about the episode much except that it was disturbing, but so many LHOTP episodes are disturbing. Michael Landon lays on the drama thick and even “happy” episodes always, always have a tinge of sadness.

    I watch this show pretty much every day because it comes on right when I’m headed to work. I know this is silly, but it bothers me that there are tons of later episodes where Mr. Hartwig still lives on because his name is STILL on the side of the blacksmith shop.

    Long after Sylvia is “crucified, dead and buried”, Mr. Hartwig still lives on in the memory of the “town”. The first time I saw it, I was shocked because I was like, OMG, isn’t he the one that ….geesh, and his shop is still there? Two seasons later? Three season later? Horrible.

    Again, I know it’s just a bunch of props, but MIchael Landon cared so much about this set that he had it blown up in the final episode rather than see it reused in another series as is common (for instance, they’re still using bits and pieces of the set from “Hello Dolly” in episodes of Law & Order SVU). So to me, it’s the extreme in bastardization of a disposable character who really didn’t deserve her fate.

  9. Does anyone have a still shot of the guy in the mime mask? I have looked all over the internet and I can’t find it. I tried searching on Richard Jaeckel, Little House, Little House mime mask, Little House mime, Little House rapist, Little House clown, Sylvia mime, etc.

  10. atthelighthouse

    Deborah: I never noticed that the Hartwig name lives on in the props! That is indeed bizarre.
    And I agree that a lot of LHotP episodes are disturbing. The one with the soldier suffering from PTSD and hallucinating his dead comrade comes to mind. Brrrr.

    Kirsten: has a gif and a few stills of the mask – Hope this is helpful!

  11. Still, for all of that, I found this episode heartbreaking. Even though I’ve seen it a few times, I still wind up hoping the ending would be different (a director’s cut?) where Sylvia loses the baby, but survives. She and Albert court and eventually marry. Of course, then she’d be a widow after he dies of that un-named blood disease…

    Di Charles cry in this episode? Charles always cries.

  12. Thank you so much At the Lighthouse! I am thrilled to find Kindertrauma and especially to see the Mime Rapist photos!

  13. And yes I know how weird that sounds

  14. atthelighthouse

    Scott: I agree that it would have been nice to see how things would play out, had Sylvia been allowed to live. But Landon did always seem to go all in with the sob stories (and to dispose of tertiary characters), so I guess her death was inevitable. And yes, the un-named blood disease! Which completely conflicted with that voice-over of Laura’s in another episode, stating that Albert returned to Walnut Grove as a doctor. Continuity is a tricky thing…

    Kirsten: Hee! You’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to help you, even if it means that I have now tainted my otherwise pure google search history with the search term “Little house on the Prairie Rape Mask”.


  15. Hey, welcome to the club. If only that were my weirdest google search.

  16. I too saw this episode when I was young. I remember not clearly understanding it and being uncomfortable talking to my mom about it. I brought it up in passing the other day at a family gathering as the conversation somehow turned to Super-Pa as we call him and I got blank stares and disbelief when I mentioned the rape. No one believed me. Too bad I didn’t think to google it then. Thanks for helping me remember a disturbing childhood memory more clearly.

  17. cheryl cartwright

    I love little house, I feel like you have ripped it apart by over analizing this episode, I am sorry I looked Sylvia up.

  18. Pingback: Hounding Google On The Hill, With Mimes And Free Ice Cream - Forbes

  19. atthelighthouse

    Cheryl and Maddy: Thank you for your comments. I’m sorry to hear that you did not like my post, however, I stand by my original post and my analysis completely.


  20. you ruined little house for me by picking it apart and being an intellectual snob!

  21. atthelighthouse

    Dear Jen,
    I am sorry to hear that you had a bad experience reading my blog post about the Little House on the Praire episode “Sylvia”. However, since you dismiss me as an intellectual snob, it is my hope that you will have no trouble ignoring the points I have made about the episode and go back to enjoying it.


  22. I really enjoyed this. It was very insightful and funny. I’m watching the last 12 minutes of the Sylvia episode now on 12-CinCW.

  23. Now that Sylvia’s dead, her father will have to feel no more shame. I could not stand him.

  24. I think that Albert and his friends started that fire, Alice Garvey dies trying to save the baby, so it’s a tragedy for Andy and Johnathan as well!!

  25. i find it weird that mr. hartwig is buying the same house that his victim lives in. nobody takes the time to look into the reasons why rape happens in the first place, and sylvia got the blame from her father. as for alberts drug problem, he didn’t know about drugs and the consequences of taking them. plus, there was no parent-child discussion about smoking or drug use. that would’ve been just plain common sense to talk to albert about drugs.

    so he’s not totally to blame, despite charles acting like albert should’ve known better.

    in the fire episodes, it’s ironic that hester sue didn’t catch the scent of smoke from those 2 boys. she would’ve checked and found the pipe before any major distaster. and that she left the door open, therefore the fire spread much faster. also, those boys didn’t want to get caught. mary had a few seconds to grab her baby (and she didn’t!). completely nuts! it would’ve made a difference.

    i don’t like her mother in this episode…way too casual about the tragedy,,,she doesn’t fully acknowledge how mary feels,and she could be more supportive. she was also rationalizing that mary needed a school for the blind. how can she be so casual? mary felt that she was in the wrong place, like she didn’t need to be there (blind school). i guess she also felt that the scarlet fever was preventable i some way.

  26. its only a tv programme for goodness sake

  27. In the post and many of the comments, notice 1) the implicit embrace of the myth of progress, 2) the consequent shameless chronological snobbery, and 3) the compulsive ironic pose borne of assumed stratospheric superiority. All this is typical of today’s processed liberal legions. Part of this processing, of course, is that they’re blind to all of it.

  28. Just re-watched this episode after reading your blogpost. Hadn’t seen it since I was a kid, but it is even creepier than I remembered it being now that I’ve read this page and now see it in a totally new light. Another weird and creepy thing I noticed in this episode was when Sylvia fell off the ladder, Albert rushed to her and after about a minute or so Charles casually says, “I’ll go get Doc Baker” and then slowly walks out of the door. Usually when anyone is going to get Doc Baker, they jump up and run as fast as they can accurately portraying how difficult it was to get timely medical help and how important it was to absolutely hurry in this time period. In fact, I thought she was already dead and he was going as a formality, but she is alive in the next scene.

  29. I’m 44 and I never believed I would liked the little house so much. I thought it was a little children program with only happy ends. There is so much emotion in these stories and so much wisedom, that I never see in the movies todays. Each storie has wisedom inside… wisedom I miss so much in 2013 where people seem to live only for themselfs. Every day I look this serie with my girlfriend and little Bob. It’s amazing how all these people can make all these stories so marvellous intense and full of tears and happyness and wisedom we can learn from in our own life…

  30. Well I loved the episode AND this commentary, so there! BTW what is chronological snobbery?

  31. I don’t know but using a term like “chronological snobbery” sounds ironic to me! ;)

    • OMG I just noticed that the Kindertrauma site now says “Prairie Victims Unit” at the top of the Sylvia episode page!

  32. Pingback: Down and Nerdy: A Very Special Episode | Slucherville

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