When I was a child, I wanted to be Beth from Little Women. I had forgotten just how much I wanted to be Beth, from Little Women, until I was flicking through a quotation dictionary and stumbled over this quote:
“I am angry nearly every day of my life….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.”
(Chapter 8, Louisa Alcott)
For anyone who has not read Little Women, it’s the story of four sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy, and written in the 19th century. I can only remember the plot in fragments; but it is hung on the girls’ characters, and their presence, for me, persists. Meg is the eldest and most sensible; Jo, a hare-brained creative; Amy, blonde and pretty; and Beth, goodness incarnate.
Gentle, kind, sensitive, selfless and slightly needy; everyone loves Beth. And that included me.
The quote came without a context and my copy is buried in a box somewhere; but, reading it last night, I was immediately bristled by the sense of repression and control. The idea that emotions like anger (or desire, or want, or frustration) should be squashed – and then negated – seemed uncomfortably strong.
I could write a whole post on anger and the difficulties I experience in relation to it; but it is the idea of squashing and re-shaping myself that has remained in my head this morning, along with the realisation that I have always tunnel-visionned myself into Little Women like stereotypes. That I have, historically, believed that I need to be a Beth or an Amy or a Jo – when in fact, we are a mishmash of characters and qualities, alike and unlike everyone else.
At 8, I unsurprisingly lacked this insight. I was terrified that instead of being like Beth, there was far of me that was like Jo. With a tendency to fly off the handle and the shared dream of being a writer, this was probably quite an astute recognition; but being universally adored was far more appealing – and so I decided to model myself on Beth.
This meant that my list of New Year’s resolutions included things like: be nice to everyone; be good; do one kind thing every day; don’t get angry with people – and included little space for just being me.
Inevitably, this caused all kinds of self-acceptance problems…
I believe that people can change, and improve, and develop – but the starting point needs to be yourself, and not someone else.
I’m only just beginning to realise that I am not, nor will ever be, like Beth – and that’s okay. That there will be similarities between me – and Beth – and Jo – and this person – and that person – but variety is what makes the world go round. There is not, as a younger me believed, one definitive idea of a “good” or a “bad” person –
Just lots of individuals in between.
Related Posts: Formative Fiction and “Good” Food.
Tags: Identity, poetry and prose, self discovery, self-acceptance
I always wanted to be Jo and I had forgotten that till I read this post. I loved the books when I was the same age reading them as you. I remember not liking Beth, as she seemed too nice and a pushover?!!?
Being nice always seemed to be a sign of weakness to me, but now I at least like Beth
Like you, I guess I want to be all the characters and more besides, rolled up into a ball called ‘Claire’.
Interesting – yet another example of me assuming that ‘niceness’ and popularity were the defining features and equally attractive to everyone else! I’m also shocked at quite how narrowing and prescriptive my ideas on identity were…
I’m going for an Issa named ball! ;D
This is a really interesting post as it made me reconsider the never-ending debate on the influence of the media. If books, written years and years ago, can shape our ideas and sense of self, then it’s even more obvious to me that what influences people to develop eating disorders really can – and does – come from everywhere!
I was Jo. And I was really disappointed when she got married. Should have been an early warning sign
Interestingly, I loathed Beth for all the same reasons you loved her – she was what my family programmed me to believe was “wet” or “weak”.
I think there’s a whole text book to be written about identification with the works of Alcott
If it’s any consolation, I’d choose you over Beth any day.
x
Awww! Touched!
It is beginning to emerge that not everyone loves Beth: I clearly did quite a lot of projecting there! There is definitely a whole identification with literary characters book to be written – can also add the girl from Daddy Long Legs; the one who lived in the tower room in The White Horse; Elizabeth from Sweet Valley High (!?); and Anne of Green Gables. And that’s for starters…
As an adult, there are already some worrying themes emerging! xx