Little Women

I've been re-reading the book Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott, which was a favorite of mine when I was younger. I found it in my bedroom at my parents' house and thought to myself "hey, I loved this book, I should re-read it".

That was a mistake.

What a sanctimonious pile of bullshit this book has turned out to be, upon further (and admittedly, more feminist) reflection. The 4 main characters (all sisters) are continuously taught that the mark of a good person is one who never considers her own needs, but rather lives quietly and humbly and without desire. Granted, promoting the welfare of others and loving your neighbor and living within one's means are all excellent ideals toward which we should all strive. But every time one of the girls has a thought towards something she wants personally or a life outside of a heterosexual marriage that produces children, she is shamed by the others.

The most pious character, for god's sake, is so meek and loving that she's afraid to leave her home or speak to strangers, and eventually she dies of downright sickliness. And she's the gold standard to which they all strive! A woman who wants nothing but to live silently at home and serve her family is the model citizen.

Jo, the rambunctious one, is constantly criticized for enjoying exercise and speaking frankly. Her slight temper and outspoken honesty are major character flaws, in the opinion of her sisters and mother. She writes "little stories" which bring her great happiness and even a measure of financial independence - so guess what happens in the end? That's right, she gives up all of that to live quietly as the matron in a house run by her husband and filled with their children. WHICH BRINGS HER TRUE HAPPINESS. Not her writing - her duties.

Ok. I'm not saying that happiness can't be found in a family, in a husband, in children, or in service to others. But can we agree that there are multiple paths to happiness? I get that this novel was written in a time where women were taught that their own hetero marriage and household was pretty much all they could hope for, but how can this author be excused for exhaulting a sickly child and repressing a vibrant woman?

Oh, and even the "vain" one isn't allowed to find happiness until she stops having personality and turns to silently grieving the death of the meek one full time. At that point, and only at that point, does another character decide he loves her.

End lecture.