Throughout Little Women, Mrs. Margaret March—fondly called “Marmee” by her daughters—seems to be a background character. We are told about the appearances, idiosyncrasies, aspirations, relationships, and weaknesses of the four March sisters, but are given very little information about Marmee. Instead, whatever glimpses we catch of her come through conversations with and among her daughters. However, in my opinion, this book centers more on Marmee than Meg, Jo, Beth, or Amy. It begins as the girls plan a Christmas surprise for their mother and ends as they, their husbands, and their children celebrate the sixtieth birthday of this March family matriarch. Marmee’s influence bookends and pervades Little Women. While it may not be a book overtly about her, it is at the very least a testament to her influence. (I appreciate that contemporary author Sarah Miller reimagined the events of Little Women from Marmee’s perspective in her outstanding 2020 novel, Marmee.)
Marmee stands not only as an ideal mother, but a pastor’s wife I would do well to emulate. Indeed, while rereading Little Women a few years ago, I found myself wishing she could pop in to give advice to other literary pastors’ wives, much as she does for her four daughters. To Mrs. Morland, she might recommend wiser reading material, though the two would revel in their lively, full households. To Charlotte Collins, she would gently say that love is as necessary as financial stability in a happy marriage. To Mrs. Norris, she would probably let a bit of her zeal loose as she denounced her love of money. To Mrs. Hale, Marmee certainly would cry, “Hope, and keep busy!”
While her husband is away, serving as a Union chaplain, Marmee holds down the fort. Even when he returns, she manages her home and children with remarkable independence. Her husband is a devoted husband and father, but she is completely competent in her own right. She keeps the home afloat through poverty, serves her less-fortunate neighbors, endures the loss of one child, and safely sees three others into motherhood themselves. Like Odysseus returning to his faithful Penelope after years of voyaging, it is easy to imagine Mr. March and their children declaring of Marmee, “This woman has a heart of iron within her!”
All that said, I’d like to share four lessons from this favorite fictional mother.
1. Read Well, Live Well
Little Women is a book about books. The March sisters live in a thoroughly literary household: performing Shakespearean plays, singing Isaac Watts’ hymns, visiting monuments to Goethe and Schiller, enjoying Harriet Beecher Stowe, Oliver Goldsmith, and Sir Walter Scott, and, of course, imitating the journey of Christian in John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. Later in the novel, Professer Bhaer gifts Jo a Shakespeare collection, saying, “You wish for a library; here I gif you one; for between these two lids (he meant covers) is many books in one. Read him well, and he will help you much; for the study of character in this book will help you to read it in the world, and paint it with your pen.” These words aptly describe Little Women, too. It is “many books in one,” a full library of references and insights.
As the daughter of an English teacher, I can say for certain that mothers have the marvelous opportunity to fill their children’s minds with good books. There is perhaps no more impactful librarian than a mother who searches out excellent stories to nurture her children’s discernment, resilience, and imagination. Marmee does exactly this. In the opening chapters, she gives her daughters a gift that keeps on giving: a very good book. Recognizing that fiction is formative, Marmee gives each daughter a copy of Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress. Then, she advises them to live in this story so much that it becomes natural also to live it out—to conquer temptation and remain steadfast in virtue like the protagonist they come to know so well. Similarly, reading Little Women is an invitation to imitation, to copy its characters’ growth in our own lives until their virtues become not just the traits of characters we admire but our character as well.
As Alcott biographer John Matteson writes, “To a very large extent, the March sisters are who they are because of what they read.” Let this sink in: you are what you read. At the very least, you are likely to reflect what you consume. Marmee clearly knows this and has fed her mind fruitful books, which she then shares generously with her children. We can assume, too, that Marmee is who she is because of the books she has read deeply and repeatedly. This should be encouraging and convicting, leading us to read widely as well as wisely.
Louisa May Alcott viewed children’s novels as more than casual entertainment; she viewed them as “companions” to usher children into mature adulthood, where dreams do not always come true but, instead, happiness may be found through courage, commitment, honor, humility, self-sacrifice, and kindness. The March sisters, guided by their mother, grow in maturity not just alongside the Great Books but because of them. Likewise, Little Women has been a constant friend and mentor to many of us since girlhood—as it should. I invite you to join the host of readers who have found maternal, familial comfort and strength in this humorous, sad, real book.
2. “Hope and Keep Busy”
Throughout Little Women, Marmee remains industrious and cheerful in the face of genuine loneliness and loss. She chooses optimism and activity when it would have been easy to sink into despair and continually follows her own advice: “Hope, and keep busy!” This motto seems to have originated with Alcott’s mother, who advised her daughter to write as a productive means of channeling and combatting anxiety.
Marmee teaches her children that “work is wholesome, and there is plenty for every one; it keeps us from ennui and mischief; is good for health and spirits, and gives us a sense of power and independence better than money or fashion.” Like the March sisters, we may find that we are overly anxious because we are underly busy. It is tougher to succumb to worry when we consistently apply ourselves to useful activities.
Marmee is a working pastor’s wife. She does not earn an income, but she is not idle. She is generous to those in need and involved in her daughters’ lives. The novel Marmee indicates that she would have been active in supporting Union troops and promoting better living conditions for poorer classes, as well as managing the day-to-day functions of her household. By keeping busy, she staves off worry over her husband, who is far away at war. Although a devoted wife, she ensures that Mr. March is not her entire universe; she has passions and pursuits to keep her occupied and optimistic in his absence.
While each March sister grows into a productive adult, Jo seems to possess most of Marmee’s zeal for hard work. She writes this poem in a letter:
“I am glad a task to me is given,
To labor at day by day;
For it brings me health, and strength, and hope,
And I cheerfully learn to say,—
‘Head you may think, Heart you may feel,
But Hand you shall work away!’”
It is strangely comforting to remember that there is always something we can do—be it taking a meal to someone, digging into a Bible study, or simply folding another pile of laundry. Like Marmee and Jo, we may find that the best remedy to a heavy heart or anxious mind is a working hand. If we imitate Marmee in hoping and keeping active, I believe we will find that “youth will be delightful, old age will bring few regrets, and life become a beautiful success.”
3. Prioritize Properly
Alongside keeping busy, Marmee remains unflappably energetic and optimistic because she has her priorities in order. We see this in the counsel she gives to Meg, who becomes so consumed with caring for her babies that she neglects her husband, housework, and friends. Marmee, who is clearly a devoted mother, offers this surprising advice:
“You have only made the mistake that most young wives make—forgotten your duty to your husband in your love for your children. A very natural and forgivable mistake, Meg, but one that had better be remedied before you take to different ways; for children should draw you nearer than ever, not separate you—as if they were all yours, and John had nothing to do but support them…Make [home] so pleasant he won’t want to go away. My dear, he’s longing for his little home; but it isn’t home without you, and you are always in the nursery…too much confinement makes you nervous, and then you are unfitted for everything. Besides, you owe something to John as well as to the babies; don’t neglect husband for children—don’t shut him out of the nursery, but teach him how to help in it…Go out more; keep cheerful as well as busy—for you are the sunshine-maker of the family, and if you get dismal there is no fair weather…take an interest in whatever John likes, talk with him, let him read to you, exchange ideas, and help each other in that way. Don’t shut yourself up in a bandbox because you are a woman, but understand what is going on, and educate yourself to take your part in the world’s work, for it all affects you and yours.”
If we unpack this, we see that Marmee prescribes the following steps: 1) Prioritize your husband, alongside and even over children, 2) care for your house, 3) let your husband be involved in parenting, for your sake as well as your children’s; 4) have enjoyable activities and friendships beyond the home; 5) don’t neglect your own education. This advice squares with Alcott’s philosophy that the nuclear family should be a blessing to society—not an island but a foundation—and that women should refine their minds and engage society. We can learn from Marmee and Alcott here, viewing our homes not as our own private queendoms but as the launching point for our service to our husbands, children, churches, and communities.
But how does Marmee manage to keep busy and maintain her priorities so gracefully? Why doesn’t she seem frantic or burdened? Because she knows that she is a servant, and she has faith in her Heavenly Father. When missing her husband, she says, “Why should I complain, when we both have merely done our duty…? If I don’t seem to need help, it is because I have a better friend, even than father, to comfort and sustain me.” She prioritizes properly because she looks to God and recognizes that she is not in control: all she can do is manage what she has been given with diligence and trust.
4. “Be Angry and Do Not Sin”
As the novel progresses, we learn that Marmee’s determination to keep busy is not merely to keep her spirits up but to keep her from sin. Productivity channels her anger into usefulness. In Marmee, Sarah Miller imagines Marmee’s mother teaching her to control her anger, to “make of it an oven rather than a conflagration…Fire consumes, but an oven transforms.” As is so often the case, Marmee’s greatest strength—her passion and determination—is also her greatest weakness.
In one critical scene, Jo confides in her mother, lamenting her anger and wondering whether she will ever conquer it. Marmee gives her the predictable advice: “Watch and pray…never get tired of trying.” However, this does not help Jo, who feels alone in her battle against her personal Apollyon. What proves more helpful is when Marmee confesses that she, too, battles anger—and that it is an ongoing battle: “I am angry nearly every day of my life, Jo; but I have learned not to show it; and I still hope to learn not to feel it, though it may take me another forty years to do so.”
This confession of mother to daughter does more than any reproof. Knowing that her mother—who she respects above anyone else—shares her sinful tendencies but is valiantly warring against them bolsters Jo’s courage more than anything else. But what have we as readers to learn from this? Perhaps we, too, can take comfort that our struggles are not unique to us. Others—even those whom we most respect—are battling them as well. We do not fight alone. We can also learn from this gentle confidence between Marmee and Jo. Marmee does not advertise her “bosom enemy” but restrains her anger in front of her daughters. She only admits her struggles in private to build up a young “pilgrim.” We can also learn from her proactivity; she asks her husband to keep an eye on her temper and warn her when she needs to cool off. She is humble and wise enough not to fight alone.
Conclusion: Proverbs 31
The “Proverbs 31 woman” has become a cliché that makes me cringe. It brings to mind my years in a church where the women were almost exclusively allowed to study Proverbs 31 and Titus 2, as if the rest of Scripture was too much for them to handle. Now, my social media algorithm is trying to convince me that a Proverbs 31 woman lives on a homestead, makes her own endocrine-safe soaps, and gives birth to baby after baby in a bathtub. That might be one way to be a Proverbs 31 woman, but it isn’t for me. I like my smelly soaps and modern medicine. I also can’t afford livestock.
But Marmee is a Proverbs 31 woman in the most basic and beautiful sense. Whether we are homesteaders or professionals, newlyweds or matrons, we can all learn from her example, just as all Christian wives can aspire to the following verses:
“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise and call her blessed. Her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.’” –Prov. 31:25-29
Marmee is strong, enduring poverty, grief, loneliness, and hard work without crumbling. She is dignified, remaining a gentlewoman even when her fortune is lost and she cannot keep up with the latest fashions. She constantly discerns how to instruct her daughters in wisdom and virtue, adjusting her delivery to their unique personalities. She is always serving others, looking for ways to be faithful even in her hours of leisure, which are often given to singing hymns. Her husband trusts her, serving his country without worrying about her ability to manage the household in his absence.
Most significantly, Marmee’s children grow up and call her blessed. Their maturity is the greatest testament to her endurance, wisdom, and character. John Matteson writes:
“At the novel’s end, not one of the girls’ wishes is fulfilled. Even Beth’s poignantly humble prayer for health and togetherness is cruelly denied. If happiness means nothing more than getting what one wants, the world of Little Women seems less one of dreams come true than one of thwarted youthful desires. But Alcott had a more mature idea of happiness. The March girls do not cry because their childish fantasies have been denied. Instead, they acquire the wisdom to accept fate when necessary and the courage to build less selfish dreams when possible. They find happiness not in narrow self-gratification, but in self-improvement and service to others.”
From beginning to end, Little Women is about four girls growing in maturity—rising to the standards set by their mother. Although each sister matures into a different expression of womanhood, each reflects a distinct facet of Marmee: her generosity (Amy), her tenacity (Jo), her gentleness (Beth), and her hospitality (Meg). The girls rise up from dreamy childhood to pragmatic yet happy adulthood. In this, they call their mother blessed not only with words but their entire being. Sarah Miller captures this beautifully, writing from Marmee’s perspective, “Which of my girls am I most proud of? It is like asking which of my four limbs is most essential. Each of them has blossomed into a woman that embodies one of my fondest aspirations.”
From the opening chapter, when the girls follow Marmee’s example by giving their Christmas breakfast to a poorer family, to the final chapter, when they bring their own children to celebrate her sixtieth birthday, this book proves to be not only a tale of four sisters but a testament to the power of an excellent mother. Marmee’s influence is perhaps best summed up by Jo, who marvels, “How good she is to me! What do girls do who haven’t any mothers to help them through their troubles?”
P.S. I’d like to dedicate this post to my own Marmee. Thank you for raising me on good books, for encouraging me to work hard, modeling what it is to love one’s husband well, and training me to curb my temper. Like Jo, I have no idea what I’d do without you!
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Ryanne Molinari 