Differing views on Feminism in Little Women - Term Paper Example

Louisa May Alcott’s novel, Little Women, is a timeless ic. A much beloved text, it has stood the literary test of time. One of the fascinating features of this story is the four different variations of womanhood, as seen through the characterization of the March sisters. Each one different and with her own ideas and dreams, these characters shine a light onto our distinctive ideas about what it means to be a woman. There are many variations of womanhood and the March sisters do a nice job of not only illustrating these varieties, but showing how they interact with one another. There are two representations of the traditional pathways of womanhood, a model of secretly harboring rebellion while showing a compliant public face, and a model of rejecting expectations and blazing your trail. Within the covers of this text are four distinct models of womanhood. There is Meg, who is strong and capable. Meg consistently pursues and desires the traditional role of the woman: marriage and children. There is Beth, who is self-effacing, obedient, and frail. Beth is another traditional model of the woman, but one that is less realistically attainable. There is also Jo, who is rebellious, feisty, and unconventional. The model she offers is that of the trailblazing rejection of conformity. And there is also Amy, who is indulged, petted, and concerned with physical appearance. Amy illustrates the model of keeping your individuality and rebellion to yourself, while publicly making use of every social opportunity at hand. Not only is each sister unique in her personality, but each one represents a physical type of beauty as well. In keeping with a realistic view of characters, Alcott bestowed on each sister a primary flaw as well. Meg, is the eldest of the March sisters. She is described as “plump and fair, with large eyes, plenty of soft, brown hair, a sweet mouth, and white hands, of which she was rather vain” (Alcott 4). This is the extent of the physical description we get of Meg as the reader. As the story opens, she is quite concerned with material things. “Meg…thought regretfully of all the pretty things she wanted” (2). We quickly see that Meg’s flaws center around greed and vanity. Meg is the character who typifies the primary way that women were expected to behave in her time period. Meg’s life path is to get married and bear children. This was the typical path for most women during the time. Meg’s character does provide the reader with evidence of personal growth. Of her primary flaws, materialism and vanity, she does come to a place where she learns that materialism is not the path to happiness. Initially, she laments their current state of poverty. Of the March sisters, she is the one who can recall a grander lifestyle. This reversal in their fortunes becomes more and more difficult for her to bear. While at her friend’s, Annie Moffat’s home, Meg overhears discussion suggesting that her mother is only having the March sisters be nice to Laurie because of his family’s wealth, which terribly upsets her. When she shamefully relates the gossip to her mother and sister, Jo replies, “Well, if that isn’t the greatest rubbish I ever heard!” (120). Meg explains her response to the implication: “I was so angry and ashamed, I didn’t remember that I ought to go away” (120). When Jo remarks that as a writer she would have Meg, as her heroine, inherit some money, Meg replies, “People don’t have fortunes left them in that style nowadays; men to work and women have to marry for money” (196). Meg eventually realizes that money does not make someone worthy or not worthy, which gives her a character a sense of calm and peacefulness. She grows up to marry a tutor--Laurie’s tutor, in fact. She goes onto bear three children. None of this is exceptionally surprising to the reader, since Meg’s behavior is consistent with what we have seen from her throughout the book. Her character does mature and releases her need for materialism. She does choose the traditional path, but she chooses it out of love rather than necessity. She is an ideal model. She is the representation of what most girls hope for when following the expected path: a happy life with a man they love. She is rewarded for her socially acceptable behaviors, desires, and values. This is certainly a traditional model of womanhood and perfectly in line with what was expected from women at the time. Girls were certainly expected to try to marry as well as they could. And no doubt many young women endured similarly humiliating circumstances such as the Moffat party gossip. Undoubtedly many had to make do with marrying a boy far below the social station that they had hoped. Meg embraces her life’s station with grace and calm, just as we would expect the quintessential model of a woman to do. Jo is the character with whom many young girls identify. While other girls are nothing like Jo, they admire her. Jo is quite spirited and fierce. She has no interest in being a proper young lady. In fact, when the book opens, she has no interest in even being a girl. “I can’t get over my disappointment in not being a boy” (Alcott 4). It is interesting to note that Alcott gives Jo entirely more descriptive details than she grants to Meg, Beth, or Amy. The author describes her as: very tall, thin, and brown, and reminded one of a colt; for she never knew what to do with her long limbs, which were very much in her way. She had a decided mouth, a comical nose, and sharp gray eyes, which appeared to see everything, and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful. Her long, thick hair was her one beauty; but it was usually bundled into a net so as to be out of her way. Round shoulders had Jo, big hands and feet, a fly-away look to her clothes, and the uncomfortable presence of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn’t like it. (Alcott 4-5). Although Jo does eventually grow up and marry, many readers do not recall this fact about her. “Readers remember the young Jo, the teenager who is far from beautiful, struggles with her temper, is both a bookworm and the center of action, and dreams of literary glory while helping support her family with her pen” (Forman-Brunell and Paris 289). In fact, many argue that Jo is the relief from the stereotypical expectations of the time period. “For many middle class readers, early and later, Little Women provided a model of womanhood that deviated from conventional gender norms” (289). Jo’s character is daring, an intellectual, and liberated. She offers a respite from the day-to-day life and expectations of girls of the time period. Readers are allowed to imagine such a future for themselves. Jo so thoroughly resists the traditional roles of society that she spurns the affections of Laurie, who could have provided a comfortable life for her. She not only turns down his affections, she flees her home and takes up employment as a governess, a decidedly gender-traditional job. Her mother supports the unconventional decision. “You I leave to enjoy your liberty till you tire of it, for only then will you find that there is something sweeter” (401). Her support is unusual in a time when most would have chastised Jo’s lack of common sense and pragmatism. However, her mother goes onto add: “Amy is my chief care now, but her good sense will help her” (401). The March girls were always supported in their pursuit of independence and carving out new paths of womanhood. However, their mother makes her own preferences for their life paths clear: ““to be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing” (122). Jo does carve out her own path, which is far different than the average woman’s of the time period. She does marry, but it is to an older man, an unlikely suitor, who is a very atypical man himself. However, there are some elements of the typical in the relationship. He seems almost more father than suitor in the beginning. As a professor, he chastises Jo, critiques her writing, and eventually sees her give up the pursuit. When Jo does marry the professor, she gives up her dream, choosing to open a school instead. “I may write a good book yet, but I can wait…” (584). In the end, she comes to see her dreams of literary success as “selfish, lonely, and cold” (584). One almost feels cheated as a reader. Are we to assume that Jo indeed had no real talent as a writer and this is a practical decision: to lay down that which you are not truly talented at? Or should we assume Jo had settled—no, fallen in love with—a man, who does not appreciate or recognize her talent? Either possibility is most crushing to the reader who has rooted for Jo with her unconventional bend and her commitment to her ideals and her principles. If she was just going to chuck all of her desires to be a great writer and settle for the married life, why didn’t Alcott simply have her marry the sweet and faithful Laurie? As a reader, this outcome would have been far preferable and satisfying. Instead, we are given an old man as her husband, who is gruff and committed to convincing Jo that she is a talentless hack. He is critical of the kind of writing she wants to do and seems content only when tearing her down her passion for the genre she loves so. So even Jo with her fiery temperament, her continual rebellion against what is expected, and her trailblazing ways gives up her dreams in the end and settles down. She does precisely what is expected. Even more disappointing, she does it with an older, more established man, who has ‘tamed’ her by telling her untalented she truly is. He has put her into her place and will presumably ‘wear the pants’ throughout the rest of the relationship. Perhaps this is Alcott’s commentary on the ultimate pressures of society, the weight of which are heavy enough to wear down even the most fierce, intense, and passionate among us. Or is this Alcott telling us that as women age, they settle down and begin to behave as women are expected? Has Jo had to pay too high a price for her individualism? After spending her youth unconcerned with the trappings of feminine pursuits and expectations, she does the expected and takes a husband and a career that is suitably feminine. Beth is often considered the simplest of the March foursome. Indeed, when Meg is pronouncing Amy a goose and Jo a tomboy, she tells Beth: “You’re a dear, and nothing else” (4). Beth is described by Alcott as “rosy, smooth haired, bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy manner, a timid voice, and a peaceful expression, which was seldom disturbed. Her father called her ‘Little Tranquility,’ and the name suited her excellently; for she seemed to live in a happy world of her own, only venturing out to meet the few whom she trusted and loved” (4). Beth is another typical model of the options available and the expectations placed upon girls of the period. Beth is dutiful to her parents and family. She is subservient to others, placing their needs above her own. She is caring and giving of herself to others. It is likely no coincidence then that fewer readers identify with Beth or claim her as their favorite character. She offers no deviation from convention or stereotypes whatsoever. Her characterization is firmly rooted in the conformity to societal expectations of traditional roles for women. However, Alcott writes frailty, illness, and early death Beth’s fate. On one hand, this was a common fixture in literature of the time period. “The ‘cult of female frailty’ was one of the dominant models of womanhood in mid-century fiction” (Herndl 25). There is much discussion over the nature and origin of this practice, and this outlook of women. As Peter Gay writes: “there is good evidence that nineteenth century women were often less squeamish than men, and that when men were squeamish in their behalf, they were protecting an ideal in their minds, suiting their own needs” (347). So, there is a possibility that Alcott’s inclusion of Beth’s character and subsequent health conditions and death were merely a product of her times. But there is also the possibility that Alcott herself was sending a message. Readers could glean the idea that choosing this path or model of womanhood will only lead to one’s ultimate frailty and demise. Perhaps a reader may conclude that to take this path is to place one’s self in the position of being seen as frail. The March sisters rally around their sister in her poor health, and after she is gone they always remember her. Amy names her daughter after Beth. (Incidentally, Amy’s daughter, Beth, is also frail and in poor health.) While Beth is a sweet character, and clearly a family favorite, she offers little for the reader in terms of depth. She seems to exist solely for her family and to serve those around her. She is a path of womanhood not unlike the woman sitting next to you in church, who seems a hundred times more Christ-like than you will ever be. In real life, these women can be mysterious if only because we assume there is more underneath the surface, things we do not know. On the page, Beth lacks mystery because all Alcott presents to us is the surface: piety, servitude, and humility. Amy is described to the reader as “the most important person-- in her own opinion, at least” despite being the youngest. “A regular snow-maiden, with blue eyes, and yellow hair, curling on her shoulders, pale and slender, and always carrying herself like a young lady mindful of her manners” (4). Amy’s model of womanhood is initially that of service to one’s self. Her life is quite focused on her own whims and desires. She lives only to suit Amy and to pursue those things which she finds pleasurable. She is quite vain, but she is also in possession of the characteristics one would expect out of a girl of this era. As a result, she is rewarded and given a trip to Europe, courtesy of her aunt. When Jo is unhappy and expresses the ultimate unfairness of the selection of Amy over herself, their mother gently places the blame squarely at Jo’s feet: I’m afraid it is your fault. When Aunt spoke to me the other day, she regretted your blunt manners and too independent spirit; and here she writes, as if quoting something you had said, ‘I’d planned at first to ask Jo; but as ‘favors burden her’ and she ‘hates French,’ I think I won’t venture to invite her. Amy is more docile, will make a good companion for Flo, and receive gratefully any help the trip may give her. (Alcott 375). Thus, we see both Amy’s reward for her docile nature and compliance—at least in public—and Jo’s punishment for being honest, straightforward, free with her speech, and more spirited. It is interesting to note that the person Amy is the most spoiled with is Jo herself. When Jo refuses to allow Amy to accompany Jo and Laurie to the theater, Amy retaliates by taking the novel Jo has been working on for years and tossing it into the fireplace. The manuscript burns in the fire. Although Jo swears to never forgive her, she, of course, does. However, this behavior is in stark contrast with the Amy we see in society, who is classy and worldly. Amy eventually charms and marries Laurie, the girls’ playmate and companion. This works well for Amy’s character, because throughout the story she has been primarily concerned with class and station. She has always wanted to be a woman of society. Of all the March sisters, she is the most adept at the social aspect of society. She not only charms her aunt—which leads to the trip to Europe, where she encounters and snares Laurie—but she frequently makes social calls to the wealthy in her society. Although Amy does for a while share Jo’s desire to create art and have a career, she ultimately abandons the pursuit. After studying art and trying to create a work of genius in painting or sketching, she finally concludes she lacks the talent to truly create worthy art. At the time of Laurie’s arrival, Amy had her sights set on Fred Vaugh, whom she planned to wed for his fortune. Although the reader is asked to believe that she married Laurie out of affection, we cannot forget that Laurie’s family was not in any sort of financial discomfort. Now that Amy has given up any ideas of being a great artist and filling the world with art, she can focus on a romance with Laurie. Yet again, Alcott gives us a female character that although in many ways was more typical and traditional than Jo wanted to pursue a non-traditional path, yet abandons it and opts instead for a traditional path. Again, the reader is left to wonder if Alcott is trying to say that womanhood is not for career pursuits, but for marriage and doing what is expected. Both Jo and Amy give up their artistic passions and choose a life as a wife. There are four distinctly different models of womanhood presented in Little Women through the characterization of the four March sisters. Meg provides the simple life of doing what is expected and keeping your eye solidly fixed on that ambition. Beth offers the pious life of servitude and obedience, but it clearly comes with deadly consequences. Jo is the character who is rebellious and a trailblazer from the beginning. Yet she pays a dear price for her desires and ultimately abandons them to settle down and lead a quiet life, doing precisely what is expected of her. Amy is the sister who shows one face to the world at large and yet harbors an independent life of her own, producing great works of art. Yet she too eventually lets her dreams go by the wayside and settles down to the business of adulthood, with its marriage and children to occupy one’s time. The ultimate message seems to be the all models of womanhood lead to the same place. Some rebellion will be tolerated, but the reader should know that she will pay a price. But eventually readers should accept their path as prescribed: life as a wife and the abandon of trivial pursuits. Works Cited Alcott, Louisa. Little Women. New York: Little, Brown, 1994. Forman-Brunell, Miriam and Leslie Paris. The Girls’ History and Culture Reader: The Nineteenth Century. Champaign, IL: University of Illinois, 2011. Gay, Peter. Education of the Senses: The Bourgeois Experience, Victoria to Freud, Volume 1. W. New York: W. Norton & Company, 1999. Herdnl, Diane Price. Invalid Women: Figuring Female Illness in American Fiction and Culture. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1993. Read More