During the month of July I am hosting the discussion of Little Women at A Year of Feminist Classics. Here is my initial contribution.
I would like to open the discussion of Little Women, Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel for girls, with a proposition. Some readers find in the book a feminist message of independence and self-expression, while others find a message of social conformity. So which is it – a liberating view of female possibilities or an imposition of community expectations? My proposition is that Little Women delivers both messages. The tension between them is what makes the book so real and so memorable.
Let’s start with the conformity message. In Little Women, Mr. March is the absent father, leaving the four sisters and their mother to fend for themselves while he serves as a military chaplain in the Civil War. His presence is strongly felt, however, as he presses for the girls to grow up in accordance with his ideals.
“I know they will remember all I said to them, that they will be loving children to you, will do their duty faithfully, fight their bosom enemies bravely, and conquer themselves so beautifully, that when I come back to them I may be fonder and prouder than ever of my little women.”
The March sisters receive a letter from their father in which he expresses his ideals for his “little women.”
If they must fight their bosom enemies and conquer themselves, then they must suppress their true natures in favor of a standard set by him, the father. This is reinforced when, near the end of part one of the book, Mr. March comes back from the war and proclaims:
“I see a young lady [Jo] who pins her collar straight, laces her boots neatly, and neither whistles, talks slang, nor lies on the rug as she used to do. Her face is rather thin and pale just now, with watching and anxiety; but I like to look at it, for it has grown gentler, and her voice is lower; she doesn’t bounce, but moves quietly, and takes care of a certain little person in a motherly way which delights me. I rather miss my wild girl; but if I get a strong, helpful, tender-hearted woman in her place, I shall feel quite satisfied.”
A “strong, helpful, tender-hearted woman” is no bad ideal, but it is Mr. March’s ideal, not Jo’s. Alcott realistically shows that when a girl is as energetic and ambitious as Jo, she can expect loving parents will try to get her to conform. Most books for girls at that time would leave it there, with Jo seeing the error of her ways and finding happiness in meeting family expectations. Alcott is a better writer than that. She depicts a Jo who is fully appreciative of love and support; she is not rebelling against her family but against the role of a girl:
“It’s bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boys’ games and work and manners! I can’t get over my disappointment in not being a boy; and it’s worse than ever now, for I’m dying to go and fight with papa and I can only stay at home and knit, like a poky old woman!”
After she publishes her first story, Jo does not reject her family role, but desires to be independent within it, to support those she loves as – dare we say it! – a boy would have been expected to do.
Jo’s breath gave out here; and, wrapping her head in the paper, she dedewed her little story with a few natural tears; for to be independent, and earn the praise of those she loved were the dearest wishes of her heart, and this seemed to be the first step toward that happy end.
By the time she wrote Little Women in 1868, Louisa May Alcott 
was establishing herself as a professional writer. Like Jo, she wanted to support her chronically-needy family, by any honest means. She did, in fact, try various jobs including teaching, sewing and serving as a paid companion. Writing paid best, besides being satisfying in other ways. She wrote plays, poetry, short stories, thrillers, and an account of her nursing experiences in a Civil War hospital – whatever would sell. Her greatest affection was for her “adult” novels, such as Moods, with their emphasis of emotional states and high romance. She wrote Little Women on assignment so, rather than trying to move the reader as in Moods, she told the story, as in Hospital Sketches. When the story is told – drawing on her own experiences growing up with three sisters in the poor but worthy Alcott family – her true values are expressed in the story itself and the choices she made in telling it.
“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.
People talk like that. These are real girls, not models of perfection. Whatever your concept of feminism may be, for me it is the belief that women define their own natures; they are not defined for them by the male half of humanity. If women are entirely noble and good or entirely evil and dangerous, that is a patriarchal construct which separates females from the rest of the human race where everyone is a mixture of good and bad characteristics.
Jo does want to make money for her family, but she also knows that with money comes power, and she wants that too.
…Jo was satisfied with the investment of her prize money, and fell to work with a cheery spirit, bent on earning more of those delightful checks. She did earn several that year, and began to feel herself a power in the house….
Jo enjoyed a taste of this satisfaction, and ceased to envy richer girls, taking great comfort in the knowledge that she could supply her own wants, and need ask no one for a penny.
She also has ambition for herself, for her own sake.
“I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle, — something heroic or wonderful, that won’t be forgotten when I’m dead. I don’t know what, but I’m on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous: that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream.”
This is important because so often, in stories about girls or biographies of women, their accomplishments are portrayed as done entirely for the sake of others, to fulfill a helper role. Jo does not reject being a helper, but she also wants her own satisfactions and achievements. Within the realities of 19th-century life, Jo gets them. She rejects the suitor she does not love, she leaves home to support herself, she sells her stories, she writes a good book, and, finally, she does marry, but it is an unconventional union which enables her to become the manager of a school.
- Which is the stronger message within Little Women – conformity or independence?
- What other messages to you find there?
- What are the roles of Marmee and of Jo’s sisters? Do they support or deny feminist values?
For more information about Louisa May Alcott, Little Women, and the interesting town of Concord, visit my blog page: http://silverseason.wordpress.com/courses-and-presentations/little-women-by-louisa-may-alcott/
I agree that Little Women conveys both messages. I wish that I could read the book from the perspective of a 19th century girl and truly see how radical and different Jo was. Coming in through the “back door.” so to speak (in reading first about the author before reading the book), I find Jo to be mild in comparison to Louisa.
I just started reading Work, Alcott’s adult novel which is also autobiographical in nature and right away I see what you’ve pointed out – that Alcott’s characters want to succeed on their own merits and for themselves, not just because helps others (although helping others is a critical part which gives the success meaning). Christy states in the first chapter her desire to support herself so as not to be a burden on her aunt and uncle but I definitely got the feeling it was much more than that, that it was tied to her identity and sense of worth and purpose.
May Alcott, Louisa’s youngest sister, was very much into success for its own sake. She took it a step further, wanting the success and then later giving back. She was accused of being selfish for this (and was portrayed early on as selfish through Amy, and unfortunately got stuck with the label even after she matured into a gracious and giving young lady).
I’m going to share your link on my blog – this should be a wonderful discussion.
[...] the month of July Nancy from The Silver Threads blog is hosting the discussion of Little Women at A Year of Feminist [...]
Alcott clearly compromised some of her values in the name of getting paid – and who can blame her? Overall, I find there’s a strong feminist thread running through all of her work. Even her moralizing about the importance of “women’s work” comes from a feminist place – what could be more of a feminist ideal than the idea that ANY choice a woman makes, and ANY work a woman does, is worthy?
In the 1960s and 70s we saw a brand of feminism that often threw women in “traditional” roles under the bus. Alcott’s brand of feminism (which, interestingly enough, we’re seeing more of, today) doesn’t assign women any specific role, except that of following one’s heart and mind.
We must also take into consideration that we’re discussing a book written well over 100 yrs ago, when being a stroppy woman took on a totally different shape than it does, today.
What a great discussion topic – and how wonderful to have found other women who are interested in LMA, whose importance as a writer has been so often downplayed!
I think Eight cousins is far more feminist than Little Women. Uncle Alex tells Rose what she must do, wear sensible clothing, not drink coffee, no corsets, run, etc. etc. She even writes a forward in Rose in Bloom(I think) about not upsetting the parents with the wild ideas in the book.
In the end I think all the girls conformed to Victorian sensibilities. None were spinsters, all married and all had children. They become angels of the household. Even Beth’s demise was truly Victorian, honorable, touching and typical for the time period. Amy married well off(which was every girls dream) and became a dutiful wife. Meg was the perfect Victorian lady and in the end topsy turvy Jo marries, even if it is a bit unconventional, but is it truly? Often younger woman married older men in order to gain security. The only thing that was different was he was an immigrant *gasp*!
In the end I dont find it feminist in nature. Its a story about girls growing up with all their faults as they try to overcome them, find love and marry and have kids.
The fact that the girls end by following rather conventional paths is what has fueled the controversy all these years. As someone has observed, Alcott in her own life was much more feminist than she permitted Jo to be. On the other hand, the feminist alternative gets more play in Little Women than in other books of the period.
I don’t agree with you about Eight Cousins. Rose is directed by her uncle instead of finding her own way. Because she is so eager to please, she submits to his authority and tries things she would not do on her own.
The more feminist book is An Old Fashioned Girl where it turns out that to be old fashioned is to support yourself.
You make me want to read all of these books! I’ve only read Little Women so far. To me it feels like a femenist novel, because Jo makes a choice. She doesn’t cave and marry Laurie because it’s expected or convenient. She chooes independence and then marries for love. (A lot of folks don’t like the professor, but I do!)
* feminist
An Old Fashioned Girl is almost revolutionary, when one considers the context. A young woman bent on making her way in the world on her own, supporting herself through hard work, living in a boarding house, and refusing the love of a rich and very likable suitor? Spurning fashion and opting, instead, to devote her social life to spending time with Bohemian female artists (who, BTW, come off sorta kinda like a lesbian couple)?
I can’t even take Little Women as a stand-alone, but as part of a series of books that ends with Jo’s Boys. While Jo’s Boys is the weakest of Alcott’s novels, it’s the youth novel where she is most vehement – even militant – in discussing women’s rights, suffrage, and the fact the “spinsterhood” is not a tragedy.
The feminism in LW shouldn’t, IMO, be measured by whether or not the March girls get married – we all know LMA never wanted Jo to marry, and wrote that in under great pressure. She had a family to support and massive debts to pay…but she still managed to do it on HER terms…Jo was never going to marry the obvious, happily-ever-after rich, handsome guy. The feminism in this book should, instead, be measured in the self-determination of the young women it’s about. The fact is, it’s a novel about women making their way in the world when men are not around to rely on – something LMA knew a lot about. There is nothing anti-feminist about making traditional choices, if they are, indeed, CHOICES.
Alcott is putting herself in Uncle Alex’s position and showing her the unconventional lifestyle. And while I agree that Rose submits to her uncle the fact that Alcott had to write a forward telling parents to not be upset speaks volumes. It means that parents must have been so upset they were writing plenty of letters on the issue.
I also agree that Jo’s Boys gives Alcott a lot more wiggle room. There is one girl, Nancy? who becomes a doctor(I think). And isn’t there another girl who becomes a spinster?
The fact that Jo rejects Laurie isn’t a feminist move in my book. Its a writer being all uppity about not having those two together even though thats what the readers wanted. And in the end Alcott caved and had Jo marry some old German professor instead of the more sexually appealing Laurie. So instead of a lover she becomes caregiver to an old guy. Ick. that’s hardly revolutionary or feminist, as this fate happened to many.
And while Jo does go off and tries to make it on her own, so did many other poor women during this time.
I guess I dont see it. Alcott isn’t conventional. There are aspects of the March family that show her views. The Marches are quirky enough to be cute, but not radical enough to raise eyebrows.
I do wish I remember Old Fashioned girl, but its been decades since I read it, and I dont remember much of it other than her wearing a black dress during a party and she was poor.
Fun topic
It is a fun topic, but don’t be too quick to “ick” Professor Bhaer. I sort of liked him myself.
I thought Professor Bhaer was a good match for Jo.
I also agree about Old Fashioned Girl. In fact, as I’m reading Work I think of Old Fashioned Girl, especially the sisterhood of girls that Polly introduced to Fanny which eventually helped Fanny recognize the empty nature of her life and helped her find purpose.
Sorry, but I’ve always hate Bhaer.
Fritz isn’t exactly geriatric. He’s “almost 40″ when they meet. And one very important difference between Laurie and Fritz is made clear: life with Laurie, as lovable as he is, will always be about being proper and doing what the world expects of one. Laurie ceases to be very interesting when it’s clear that being a grown-up, for him, means giving up his dreams of a life of music, and settling into the world of a businessman – which we know he hates. Jo is adamant in wanting to be a full partner to Fritz, and share the load evenly. There’s no indication, at all, that Amy does much of anything once she’s married, besides be ornamental and agreeable. As a girl, Jo dreams of a life where being around boys and surrounding herself with boyish energy and pastimes can be a reality – and her choices in life do, indeed, make this a reality. And let’s be real – Jo marrying Fritz is in no way a convenience to get security. He doesn’t have any money. In fact, he’s somewhat hapless when it comes to money.
LMA makes a distinction between the friendship/brotherly love Jo feels for Laurie, and the romantic love she has for Fritz. The idea that grown men and women can be platonic friends – which is, insanely, STILL controversial to many – is a feminist theme that Alcott visits again, and again, in several of her books and stories.
In Jo’s Boys, Alcott is brave enough to have Jo wonder, out loud, before a group of young women, if it wouldn’t have been better to have never married and have children, and pursue the life of a spinster author. In 2012, that’s a pretty common question for women to ask. In 1885? Many happily married women were almost certainly asking themselves this question in private, but not out loud.
Gina, you’ve made me vow to go back and read Eight Cousins, which I barely remember. So nice that most of LMA’s stuff is available for free as kindle downloads.
Thank you for your comments. We have a good discussion going.
As a young girl I was mildly disappointed that Jo did not marry Laurie (love’s young dream) but even then I liked Professor Bhaer. Later I understood Alcott was making a very important point. Marriage is not just about love’s young dream, but choosing a way of life. The conventional view was that the way of life chosen would be dependence on and deference to a controlling husband. Even Laurie would have expected that. So Jo chose otherwise.
What a great discussion! I’m coming in very late to the concersation, but I agree that Lousia while very forward thinking and wanted to make Little Women a feminist novel, had to compromise in order to get her books published. She definitely preferred her thrillers for adults and called her children’s books “moral pap for children.”
I’ll 100% agree with Gina re: Laurie vs. Prof Bhaer. Jo marrying the prof wasn’t revolutionary or feminist by any means. Because Louisa wouldn’t let Jo marry Laurie, she caved in and created the Prof character who she seemed to dismiss as a “funny match.” I don’t think Louisa had ever really seen a truly egalitarian loving marriage that worked (exceedingly rate I’m sure during her time), so to her, a woman being fully independent meant being a spinster. But she had to sell books so that wouldn’t work and we get Jo essentially marrying her father. Prof Bhaer is in so many ways Bronson Alcott that I found it a bit creepy and certainly distasteful.
I really don’t understand it when people state that marrying Bhaer was able to keep Jo independent and be herself. I don’t remember Jo ever dreaming about owning a school and raising boys. She always wanted to be a writer. And honestly, Fritz discouraged her imagination (told her she was writing trash), and she essentially stopped. And by Little Men and Jo’s Boys, Jo really isn’t the feisty, vibrant, rebellious character we knew in Little Women – running a school and mothering children was not truly a revolutionary type of activity. So Jo actually becomes pretty domesticated.
So that’s why I can’t stand Bhaer – he was pretty much Louisa’s vehicle for turning Jo into a proper Little Woman.
Re Amy and Laurie, I’ll admit that I thought their romance in Europe was very sweet and well written (which surprised me as I am such a Jo/Laurie fan) though a bit contrived…but then they get married and they really become a very dull couple. Their chapter Lord and Lady in Little Women – so uninteresting as they became pretty lifeless in their role as society’s ideal husband and wife. An d in Little Men and Jo’s Boys, the interaction betwen Amy and Laurie isn’t hardly described at all and when it is, quite flat…but the little snips of Jo and Laurie interaction are full of life and fun (and I think a bit flirty!).
I guess in my ideal world, Louisa would have married Jo and Laurie and have continued the equal relationship they had as friends into their marriage. Marmee’s line that they are too rebellious and fight too much seems ridiculous these days when modern psychology suggests that healthy couples do argue and bicker. But this was all likely difficult for Louisa to imagine, so not possible. Thus I absolutely would have preferred Jo to remain unmarried rather than marry Professor Bhaer. Too bad that we couldn’t see Jo becoming a successful author and going to Europe and then with her earnings sending Amy to Europe for Art lessons (all of wich happened in Alcott’s real life). Too bad that while this would have been a facinating turn for Jo, girls during her time would likely preferred how things turned out in Little Women in the end.