Little Women’s Unsung Heroine

J o March is indisputably the protagonist of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, but she is not the heroine.

During a recent late-night chat, my roommate and I discussed what books would be in our personal “top 100.” My instant answer for the No. 1 spot was, as always, Little Women. I simply cannot recommend this book enough, and though no one would ever agree with me, I believe it should be in the running for Great American Novel. Every child, boy and girl, should read the first half of the story (before part two, Good Wives) around age ten, and then read the rest in high school. It is delightful in every sense of the word, and wonderfully patriotic to boot. It is also imperative that they read it before they ever see any movie adaptations — some of which are good, others middling — because, while the directors and actors succeeded mightily in some areas, all the attempts to put the story on film fall short.

The 2019 version, directed by Greta Gerwig, gave Amy’s character more depth and captured the joyful chaos of having many sisters. Wynona Rider, star of the 1994 version, is synonymous with Jo for perhaps millions of women. The 1933 version won an Academy Award for Best Adaptation, and the 2017 PBS miniseries (featuring the first professional performance of Maya Hawke) had a star-studded cast.

Each of these retellings tried valiantly to capture visually what Alcott so carefully laid down more than 150 years ago. But a recent rereading of the book showed me just how short these attempts have fallen. Yes, we can all quibble about which Laurie is best, or worry over Greta Gerwig’s confusing (though at times clever) timeline, or rail against the casting director who picked Emma Watson of all people to play Meg. All of these considerations, though, should lead us back to the original source and help us see one very important character that every adaptation fails to do true justice to: Marmee.

Susan Sarandon, Laura Dern, Emily Watson, and other actresses have all given Marmee a try, but they all fail, making us see Marmee as preachy, flighty, a feminist, or ever-so-slightly un-American.

Girls the world over have fallen in love over and over again with Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, and many of them resonated deeply with Jo. They adore her fiery spirit, her passion, and her style. But everything they love about Jo would’ve become unbearable if this dear protagonist had not had a firm and caring guide. Marmee March — whose Christian name we never learn throughout the book — is the bedrock of her daughters’ lives. She sees and knows each of them for the beautiful individual that they are, and challenges each one of them in just the manner they need.

It is her presence that holds the home together. Without her, Meg would be unbearably whiny, Jo would be a terror, Amy would be petulant and haughty, and Beth would never leave the house.

The title of the book is Little Women, a term used by their father in a letter home, describing how he hopes to find them when he returns from war. Not just women in the most basic sense of the term, but women of virtue. This, at the end of the first book, is indeed how he finds them, but it is imperative to remember that without Marmee’s virtuous example, Jo wouldn’t have defeated Apollyon, Meg would’ve succumbed completely to Vanity Fair, Amy would’ve wallowed in her Valley of Humiliation, and Beth would’ve never had the courage to face Mr. Laurence.

While Marmee is the family’s firm hand of justice and guidance, she is also an encourager. It is through her that the girls are inspired in all their creative undertakings, from plays to novels to music. Marmee is there, watchful and rejoicing in the talents and delights of her girls.

She doesn’t push her daughters for information, but watches them carefully and gives them time to process their various successes and failures. They know they can come to her at any time and “’fess,” and many times throughout the novel, the girls do just that. Perhaps my favorite of these moments is after Meg’s rather disastrous visit to the home of her friends, the Moffets, where she lets them doll her up and is “romping in a way that scandalized Laurie.” Meg comes to her mother to talk about the whole affair, especially a piece of gossip that she’d overheard and had hurt her greatly. Marmee, as always, responds with firmness and gentleness, and then gives her daughters (for Jo is in the room, too) a beautiful piece of wisdom:

“I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good; to be admired, loved, and respected, to have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow to try them as God sees fit to send. To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman; and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience. . . . My dear girls, I am ambitious for you, but not to have you make a dash in the world,— marry rich men merely because they are rich. . . .”

“Poor girls don’t stand any chance, Belle says, unless they put themselves forward,” sighed Meg.

“Then we’ll be old maids,” said Jo, stoutly.

“Right, Jo; better be happy old maids than unhappy wives, or unmaidenly girls, running about to find husbands,” said Mrs. March, decidedly.

“One thing remember, my girls, mother is always ready to be your confidant, father to be your friend; and both of us trust and hope that our daughters, whether married or single, will be the pride and comfort of our lives.”

Marmee even has sway over the jovial neighbor and friend of the March girls, Laurie. Throughout the tale, he is always ready to run errands for her and be loved by her, and his respect for her is immense. This respect grows even stronger when, after he meddles in Meg’s blossoming love affair with John Brook, it is Marmee, not Jo, who sets him straight:

“The instant Laurie’s step was heard in the hall, Meg fled into the study, and Mrs. March received the culprit alone. Jo had not told him why he was wanted, fearing he wouldn’t come; but he knew the minute he saw Mrs. March’s face, and stood twirling his hat with a guilty air, which convicted him at once. . . . The sound of voices in the parlor rose and fell for half an hour; but what happened during that interview the girls never knew.”

These are but a few examples of the myriad ways in which Marmee holds the March household together throughout the book. Generous, patriotic, gentle, observant, sacrificial, and determined — these and many other words describe this incredible literary woman.

So yes, Jo is indeed a wonderful protagonist. But Marmee is the true heroine of Little Women.