Once upon a time, there were four sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy. They loved their mother and they loved their father and like all good young ladies of the time they did whatever they were told by the society around them. Right? WRONG!
Louisa May Alcott's classic tale, Little Women (and the sequel Good Wives, which is often published as Part 2 of the former) has, I believe, an unfortunate title. One could be, and should be, forgiven for thinking that the title of both books indicates an antiquated tale of young girls being prepared for marriage, and while this could be seen to be the case after a perfunctory glance, in truth the novel creates a story that both subtly and overtly challenges the accepted role of women that is constructed in the social context of the novel.
Josephine March, better known as Jo, is a character whose dominant personality and commitment to overstepping the social boundaries that aim to constrict her have remained a source of inspiration to me ever since I first read the book whilst in Grade 3. At the time I certainly did not realise how significant a character she was, nor how important she was as a female protagonist (given the time period in which Alcott created her). However, even then she reached a place in my mind that has allowed me to recognise her in a great many novels I have read in the 17 years following our first introduction.
While the society constructed throughout the novel is still obviously stacked in the favour of men, the way Jo conducts herself remains a testament to female writers of Alcott's time who have set a precedent for female protagonists to make the most of their situation and maintain their personal integrity, albeit in ways that today's modern Western woman would find decidely inane.
I truly believe that this is a novel that not only instilled an appreciation of a strong female protagonist (and eventually antogonist) but also ignited my love affair with American literature.
For anyone wanting to flirt with the classics but can't bring themselves to wade into the English stalwarts of the Bronte sisters or Jane Austen, Little Women may be the book you have been looking for.
Louisa May Alcott's classic tale, Little Women (and the sequel Good Wives, which is often published as Part 2 of the former) has, I believe, an unfortunate title. One could be, and should be, forgiven for thinking that the title of both books indicates an antiquated tale of young girls being prepared for marriage, and while this could be seen to be the case after a perfunctory glance, in truth the novel creates a story that both subtly and overtly challenges the accepted role of women that is constructed in the social context of the novel.
Josephine March, better known as Jo, is a character whose dominant personality and commitment to overstepping the social boundaries that aim to constrict her have remained a source of inspiration to me ever since I first read the book whilst in Grade 3. At the time I certainly did not realise how significant a character she was, nor how important she was as a female protagonist (given the time period in which Alcott created her). However, even then she reached a place in my mind that has allowed me to recognise her in a great many novels I have read in the 17 years following our first introduction.
While the society constructed throughout the novel is still obviously stacked in the favour of men, the way Jo conducts herself remains a testament to female writers of Alcott's time who have set a precedent for female protagonists to make the most of their situation and maintain their personal integrity, albeit in ways that today's modern Western woman would find decidely inane.
I truly believe that this is a novel that not only instilled an appreciation of a strong female protagonist (and eventually antogonist) but also ignited my love affair with American literature.
For anyone wanting to flirt with the classics but can't bring themselves to wade into the English stalwarts of the Bronte sisters or Jane Austen, Little Women may be the book you have been looking for.
