A humble wife and mother, an aspiring author, a girl who loves the peace of homelife, and an artist. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, written in 1868, is a coming-of-age story that details the lives over many years of four unique sisters. More than just a children’s book, Alcott’s work highlights the very human struggles and joys of pursuing your goals and living a normal life. It’s relatable beyond the post-Civil War timeframe because of it’s ability to showcase fundamental human interactions, desires, and shortcomings. Not only that, but Alcott successfully communicates the desires of a young woman who wants to pursue her career, while maintaining the importance and value of a woman who chooses to pursue a family. It is rare to find a text that does not seek to promote one path while entirely shaming and belittling the other.
While I did not intend to write a book analysis for this week’s edition of “Consider the Lilies”, I have been quite compelled to openly discuss some of the more important aspects of Alcott’s work.
I won’t dwell on giving context, but just as a basis for those not familiar with the text, The March family consists of Marmee, Mr. March, and their four daughters: Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. While Mr. March is off in the Union army, Marmee and the four girls live a simple but full life in Concord, Massachusetts. They have a neighbor, Theodore “Laurie” Laurence, who lives with his grandfather across the way. The eldest March daughter, Meg dreamed of a life of wealth and all things fancy. As the story develops, Meg realizes the importance of having a life of value in goodness—not material goods. She falls in love with Mr. Brooke, a poor teacher, and they have three children. Rambunctious Jo was modeled after Louisa May Alcott herself. She is tomboyish and laments the idea of having to live a conventional life. She is wildly creative and writes stories for her sisters to act out. Jo forms a friendship with Laurie, the two bond over shared mischief, and Laurie develops an unrequited love for Jo. Beth is the gentlest of all the sisters. She loves to play the piano and is gifted a piano from Mr. Laurence, who is taken with Beth’s sweet nature. The youngest, Amy, longs to be included in her older sisters’ blossoming social lives. She can be selfish and honestly quite aggravating (I’m looking at you, burning Jo’s manuscript chapter). She has a taste for high society but has a practical sense that in order for her to be “fulfilled”, she must marry rich. Amy has a passion for painting and goes abroad to Europe to study art with Aunt March.
The text confronts 19th century female stereotypes—establishing the women are multifaceted and capable of more than only romance, which can be seen in Jo’s ambition and determination to become an author as well as physical instances when she cuts and sells her hair to get money for her father’s illness and when she sports a burn mark on her dress at a party. She rejects Laurie’s proposal, rightly saying that their personalities are not suited to one another, and she has no desire to marry and will never do so. I admire her confidence in her convictions, but I pity her lack of foresight (cough Mr. Bhaer. Cough).
Alcott’s portrayal of strong, independent women is admirable and ahead of her time. While I agree that marriage is not for everyone and people have different callings, I love that Alcott does not condemn marriage and traditional feminine roles for all women; she advocates for strong women who have the freedom to choose their own path. Jo, throughout the novel does not hide her distaste for the idea of marriage, especially when she is informed that Meg and Mr. Brooke are engaged. However, Alcott notes the beauty of love and the joys that family bring numerous times.
In chapter 24, she writes:
“But somehow envy and discontent soon vanished when she thought of all the patient love and labor John had put into the little home awaiting her; and when they sat together in the twilight, talking over their small plans, the future always grew so beautiful and bright that she forgot Sallie’s splendor and felt herself the richest, happiest girl in Christendom.”
As Meg compares herself to her wealthier friends, she realizes the richness of a small, fulfilled life. Throughout the novel, Alcott writes poetically through prose about family, virtue, the development of faith, the consequences of personal choices, and the effect love can have in rounding out someone’s personality.
To wrap up, I want to acknowledge a wonderful example of a truly great woman—Marmee. She is charitable, wise, honest, loving, and generous. Marmee is pillar of strength for her daughters and guides their decisions throughout the book. Mrs. March is a fountain of wisdom hidden in the pages of the story. One of the first introductions we have to Mrs. March is in chapter two, where she asks her girls to give their Christmas breakfast, which is one of the humble joys on this holiday, to a nearby mother who has seven children and no food or warm fire. Marmee is strong and gracious. If only I had more space to regale you of her anecdotes and attributes.
Finally, I’ll leave you with this quote from chapter 8, where Marmee comforts Jo:
“I gave my best to the country I love, and kept my tears till he was gone. Why should I complain, when we both have merely done our duty and will surely be the happier for it in the end? If I don’t seem to need help, it is because I have a better friend, even than Father, to comfort and sustain me. My child, the troubles and temptations of your life are beginning and may be many, but you can overcome and outlive them all if you learn to feel the strength and tenderness of your Heavenly Father as you do that of your earthly one. The more you love and trust Him, the nearer you will feel to Him, and the less you will depend on human power and wisdom. His love and care never tire or change, can never be taken from you, but may become the source of lifelong peace, happiness, and strength. Believe this heartily, and go to God with all your little cares, and hopes, and sins, and sorrows, as freely and confidingly as you come to your mother.”