142. Marmee

Marmee. Sarah Miller. 2022. [October] 432 pages. [Source: Library]

First sentence: All day long, Amos’s letter waited in my pocket—the most perfect of Christmas gifts. 

Premise/plot: Little Women retold through Marmee's eyes. That is essentially the bare bones premise of the newest historical fiction novel by Sarah Miller. The book is told through a series of diary entries. Marmee [and her husband, Amos] have kept journals/diaries for years--decades. But this book consists of diary entries December 24, 1861 through December 25, 1868. The Christmas of 1868 is when [the real Louisa May Alcott] presented her [actual real] mother with the novel LITTLE WOMEN. So it is a fitting conclusion.

The book consists of diary entries, as I mentioned above, so there are no chapters--just two sections. One section, I believe, covers most of the war years. The second section, I believe, covers from the Christmas of 1865 [I believe?????? perhaps January of 1865] through Christmas of 1868. I am going to take an educated guess that this may reflect the two sections of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, which was originally published in two books. 

This new perspective allows us to see the events of Little Women through new eyes. But it also expands the context of the original novel and to look at the bigger picture of what women's lives [typically] were like during this time in American history. Our heroine, like Louisa's real life mother, Abigail May Alcott, has strong opinions and "sharp" edges. Marmee may have a fierce and feisty temper that she tries to conceal--most of the time--but she can also be incredibly empathetic, compassionate, a true advocate. 

My thoughts: I mostly have only gushy things to say about this one. [Mostly]. I love how personal it is. It felt genuinely authentic to the times. For example, though Marmee wouldn't ever openly talk about it--especially with her own children, her own little women--she's had eight pregnancies and only four lived. This is her heartache and burden, yet, she lives and keeps on living. It's just what you do. You stay strong. You face what life gives you. There is no entitlement or presumption that life will be all roses and no thorns.

I loved that they brought the 'loyal servant' Hannah to life--given her quite a back story. And a story that sheds light on the struggles women have faced throughout the centuries. Readers also see the contrast between Marmee and Aunt March--in terms of what it means to live out "faith." Marmee is forever compassionate, loving, helpful. Aunt March, mostly, is more judgmental and rigid. Don't let "those people" get too close to you. If you absolutely have to do something to "help" the "least of these" the "dregs" of society, then keep a good, long distance. 

I never really gave much thought to HOW Marmee would have felt towards the two Laurences--the grandfather and grandson. But reading Miller's Marmee, it makes complete and total sense how she might have seen him as "her" son, or the "son of her heart" early on. She lost her own baby boy--he only lived a few minutes--but if he had lived he would have been almost old enough to fight in the war. It makes sense how she has a son-shaped hole in her heart that is filled by Laurie and then Mr. Brooke [who was so helpful in caring for Mr. March when he was injured.] 

 Yes, we see Marmee as a mother. But we also see her as a WOMAN. So much more than "just" a mother.

I thought it was interesting to see how Marmee reflectively thinks about her four girls, her four little women. I think these insights feel mostly right. 

Quotes:

• The urge to do and be our best in the face of Amos’s daily sacrifice is irrepressible. I am thankful my girls’ burdens are still so light, that they do not have to bear the added weight I do. Vanity, shyness, and selfishness are all worthy dragons to conquer. Only Jo does not recognize her true burden. The fire in her, what she calls being rough and wild, is not what worries me. I would not tame her of that. The way she flares, though, when something ignites her anger, makes me wince. I have singed too many of the people I love with the sparks of my own temper. Sometimes I believe the flames that burned my face and hand as an infant took up permanent residence within me.
• Of all the many forms of starvation, the hunger for respect is hardest to cure.
• If I could only teach people not to be ashamed of asking for what they need! Every belly deserves to be filled, no matter what sin or folly or misfortune has caused it to be empty.
• The possibility forces me to contemplate whether contentment is not so elusive for other women as it is for me. Before my own hearth, surrounded by my Family, I am entirely satisfied with what I have. These walls contain riches beyond measure. But the moment I consider the world outside, and what is denied to me and others due to the accident of their race or sex, I can hardly sit still for wanting to remedy all that ails our society.
• What she fears is invisible to me. I have spent most of my life wishing for more ways to make my presence felt in the world, to make my voice heard. For Beth, the prospect of being seen, looked at, watched, is paralyzing. I could better sympathize if it were only strangers that unnerve her so, but any kind of attention makes her curl up within herself. Even on her birthday, with none but those she loves best orbiting her like planets around a cherished sun, she always looks as though she’d like to bolt under the table at the first chance. There is no one I can turn to for counsel.
• IT is not only that she is afraid—it is that she is ashamed of being afraid.
• If her mind was so crowded with apprehensions that there was no room for learning, I asked myself, what was the good of schooling? A mind must have space to expand.
• I do not want her to choose home and hearth because it is the place she dreads least, but because it is is the place she loves most. Home should indeed be a refuge, not the metaphorical bed she cowers under.
• Oh, my Beth. Her world may be narrow, but those of us fortunate enough to exist within its boundaries have been uncommonly blessed.
• I cannot help but wonder sometimes if some wisp of the spirit of that stillborn boy inhabits my Jo. There is something in her that most girls—indeed, most women—lack. If not for my other three I would think all girls are born with it, only to have it tamed out of them. It is not solely ambition; Amy has that, and is as prim and feminine as a fashion plate. It is the brash sort of confidence that men have, though being female, Jo is not permitted to feel it as such. She feels only the uncomfortable way she scrapes against the world’s expectations. Life would be smoother for her if we sanded away the edges that do not fit neatly. But then Jo would not be Jo at all.
• I have at last fitted up a German word of my own. It is made of more than one piece, as all the best German words are. First, Herz. That is the word for heart. Then Mutti. Birte’s children do not call her Mutter, the proper word for mother, but Mutti. You might say it is their family’s way of saying Marmee. And so, Herz-Mutti. That is who I should like to be to Laurie. And so it follows that he may be a Herz-Junge to me. Heart-boy.

I think there are many ways to "read" Little Women. And by read I mean interpret. It is certainly not unheard of to try to make Jo into a forerunner--of sorts--for the lgbt+ community. [That's not how I personally read/interpret Jo's character, by the way]. Marmee's reflections about Jo could definitely be interpreted by today's readers as nodding [agreeing] to this idea of Jo using the pronouns they/them, of being non-binary. Miller doesn't out and out say this--she doesn't. But read between the lines of some of what Marmee writes in her diary entries, and you get the feeling that this might be the modern-day, contemporary conclusion. Also, I get the impression that Jo's asexual. [Again, that's now how I personally read Alcott's text. It's not. But every person has the freedom to read and interpret books--especially classics with the authors long deceased--how they want.] Marmee writes in multiple entries how she has never noticed Jo *desiring* either men or women. Yes, Marmee questions if her daughter might have secret, hidden desires for women, but Marmee has not noticed any interest/leaning in this direction. Marmee questions if her daughter has any sexual desires at all and if that lack of sexual drive might be the reason behind her not wanting to marry at all. She writes a note to her daughter that essentially says there is more to marriage than just physical desire[s]. It's a meeting of the minds and hearts more than the bodies themselves.  

I may not read the original Little Women along these same lines. But overall--big picture BIG--I enjoyed Marmee by Sarah Miller. 

 

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