Little Women: A Wrap Up

Posted by Marzie's Reads December 23, 2019

Little Women: A Wrap Up

Welcome to my Book Fairy readathon of Louisa May Alcott's best-known novel, "Little Women." I am participating in the Book Fairy International plan of reading this book in full before the December 25th release of actress and director Greta Gerwig's adaptation of the novel for film. You're welcome to join in with thoughts and comments.

This is my wrap up post for the re-read, but first, we'll take a look at the life of May Alcott, the inspiration for Amy March. The relationship between Louisa and May was somewhat different from that between Jo and Amy portrayed in Little Women.

Little Women's Amy

Abigail "Abba" May Alcott was born in Concord, Massachusetts, in 1840. She was the youngest Alcott child. The year before, her mother had given birth to a son, Frederic, who died only a few days after his birth. That loss might have made the family coddle May a bit, leading to the depiction of Amy March (Amy being an anagram of May) as somewhat spoiled as a child. Some suggestions of jealousy between the sisters can be found in Louisa May Alcott's journals. Like the character of Amy, May Alcott loved art. Only a little of her artwork can be found on the internet, and what there is shows that while she had had some talent, she had to work hard to improve her skills. In fact, some of her early illustrations for Louisa's Little Women were some of the most criticized things about the book. (The illustration provided in the link is truly terrible, with its odd head sizing.)

Floral Panel by May Alcott
from
Louisa's bedroom at Orchard House

May began her formal studies in art at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and for a time studied with William Morris Hunt. With the publication of Little Women when May was twenty-eight years old, Louisa was able to fund May's trips to study art in Europe. May made three lengthy trips to Europe over the next decade, to London, Paris, and Rome. Her style and proficiency evolved rapidly once she was studying in Europe. She reportedly had a still life chosen over a painting by Mary Cassatt for the Paris Salon of 1877, and no less than John Ruskin complimented her copies of J. M. W. Turner's paintings, calling her the best copiest of Turner of the era. Louisa's support of her sister's studies changed the arc of May's life, bringing her great personal fulfillment. She loved her experience of art study in Europe and even penned a book about how young women might afford to do so. Titled Studying Art Abroad, and how to do it cheaply, the book honestly seems to come with the hidden caveat that having a very successful sister fund your trips would be helpful. It was on a trip to London that she met her future husband, Swiss businessman Ernest Nieriker. A tobacco merchant, he was also a violinist. They had a notable difference in ages. Nieriker was age twenty-two years old and May age thirty-eight years old at the time of their marriage. Though there is some indication that there was resistance within the family, Louisa thought highly of Ernest according to her journal entries. He was incredibly supportive of May's art career. Sadly, however, the same year that May had her greatest success at the 1879 Paris Salon,* she also gave birth to her daughter Louisa "Lulu" May Nieriker. She died due to complications of childbirth seven weeks later. The Alcott family, barely recovered from the death of Abba ("Marmee") in 1877, was utterly stunned by May's death. Louisa and Anna were heartbroken. Though May is buried at Montrouge Cemetary in Paris, a headstone commemorating her passing was placed in the Alcott family plot in Sleepy Hollow Cemetary. In a measure of the highest affection and regard that May felt for Louisa, she had requested that Louisa and Anna be allowed to raise little Lulu in Concord, knowing they would lavish love on her motherless daughter. Ernest honored her wishes, and Lulu lived with the family at Orchard House as in succession, Bronson, Louisa, and finally, Anna died before Lulu was ten years old. She returned to live in Europe with her father after that, married in Germany in 1901, and lived to the ripe old age of 95.

Lulu Nieriker Rasim

In many ways, Louisa and May were alike in their artistic temperament and desires for a creative life. Louisa's generosity in trying to further her sister's dreams and pursuit of an unconventional lifestyle (an unmarried spinster, traveling and studying painting in Europe in the 1870s was simply not the norm) was remarkable. Even her support of May marrying a much younger man was unusual, as it seems that Anna and Bronson were not entirely supportive. Louisa bluntly said that May was old enough, and experienced enough, to know what and who she wanted. Sadly, marriage and pregnancy were treacherous risks for creative women in the Victorian era (and can still be today, sadly). I cannot imagine Louisa's sorrow for her sister May, who lost so much at the pinnacle of her creative life. Louisa's health deteriorated steadily in the decade after May's death, though she did love her spirited little niece and wrote a parable novella titled Lu Sing for her. In the early 2000s, this story, the last work that she wrote, was instrumental in saving Orchard House, which was slowly being destroyed by beetle damage to its wood.

Little Women Wrap Up

In some respects, Little Women is a book that holds up less and less well in the modern era. Its gender stereotype of women, their roles, and their opportunities is becoming less and less relatable. That's a shame because its message of sibling love, strife, and loyalty is a timeless one. When I think of the things I loved best about the book when I read it as a child, it was the closeness of the March sisters, the fun they had, their plays, their fights, basically their family life. Rereading, as an adult, I see how gender constrained the women are in the story, how Mr. March, even once he returns, is even less a presence than old Mr. Laurence is next door. And I am keenly aware of how it seems as if a few short months in New York City change the entire character direction of Jo March, turning her, ultimately, into a hausfrau. Reader, it irks me. And yet, having read so much about Louisa May Alcott over the past two months, I'm quite sure that the turn of Jo's character was purely a business decision on the part of Alcott. Having Jo settle down and become a "good wife" like Meg and Amy helped buy freedom for Louisa. And not just for her, but also for her sisters. It was only two years after Little Women was published that Anna Alcott Pratt (Meg) lost her husband of ten years and was left with two sons to raise. Meanwhile, as we have seen, May Alcott Nieriker was free to follow her muse to no small amount of success in Europe, marrying only because she wanted to, at the late age of thirty-eight.

In Meg and Jo, a modern retelling of Little Women, author Virginia Kantra addresses some of the challenges the characters might face in our present-day while managing to capture the love, rivalry, and loyalty the four sisters have with each other. Though a little heavy on the romance side for my taste, Kantra manages to make some aspects of Jo's settling into a relationship feel less abrupt. But then, of course, she is dealing with adult women and can work with their already redefined, modern natures.

In recent weeks I've watched a number of different productions of Little Women- the 2018 film, with Sarah Davenport as Jo (not the most likable Jo by a long shot as she's quite stridently written), the 2017 PBS Masterpiece production with Maya Hawke as Jo (enjoyable), the 1994 film with Winona Ryder as Jo (a very likable characterization), and the 1949 production with June Allyson as Jo (a lot of humor). I even remember Angela Down as Jo in 1970, and Susan Dey as Jo in 1978. All of these Jo Marches pretty much follow book Jo. And so imagine my surprise when earlier this week, I found the screenplay for Greta Gerwig's adaptation of Little Women online! Here we see a very different Josephine March, who is played by Saoirse Ronan. Gerwig's screenplay is cleverly constructed, daring to cut back and forth between the events in the Alcott's life when they happened in the decade before Little Women was written and a present-day (to the film, set largely in 1868-9) where Jo March the spinster writer is facing pressure from her publisher Mr. Dashwood to have her character Jo March marry someone. Basically anyone. Because it is inconceivable that a woman could find happiness without marriage and a family of her own. Jo and Dashwood enter hard negotiations. Jo wants to retain the copyright, to get 5% of the profits, and to have a permanent percentage of royalties. And she wants these things because

"If I’m going to sell my heroine into marriage for money, I might as well get some of it."

I haven't seen the Greta Gerwig film yet. It opens on Christmas Day, and I already have tickets. I am not sure how true it will be to the books, but this screenplay... just wow, does it read as true to Louisa May Alcott herself. I hope that after my posts with a perspective on Louisa's life and independent spirit, you will go into the film with a better understanding of what Greta Gerwig is trying to do here. Readers, let me know what you think when you see it!

Orchard House, home of the Alcott family

watercolor by May Alcott Nieriker

*You can see May's 1879 Salon painting here. It's one of those stylized colonial things I'm not a fan of, so I won't show it here.

And look what I just found... (you can click on the image to see it full size)