Category Archives: Marmee the Mother of Little Women by Sandford Meddick Salyor

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Abba Alcott’s contribution – behind every great woman stands a mother

You know how they say that behind every great man is a great woman? How about behind every great woman? In studying the life of Abba Alcott through the reading of Marmee, the Mother of Little Womenby Sandford Meddick Salyer, there indeed was a great woman behind Louisa May Alcott. She was a mother whose vitality, intelligence, resourcefulness, support and example shaped one of the great authors of our time.

Excellent lineage

Abba, coming from May, Sewall and Quincy stocks, possessed great intelligence and a fighting spirit. She had a heart for others and their plights. These traits served her well through her difficult life.

Louisa of course, immortalized Abba as Marmee in Little Women and she was all those things. But Abba was also a pioneer in many ways, paving the way through her example of womanly autonomy and independence, all motivated by love.

Talent passed down

Louisa came by her writing talent honestly. Salyer describes Abba as a gifted wordsmith in her own right with a rich background of storytelling in her family:

“Abba was a born storyteller. She had once had aspirations to be a writer. Perhaps she should have been. It was her talent that Louisa inherited, her ingenuity, the vigor and dash of style which Abba could show at times but seldom did. It was certainly Abba’s suggestions and encouragement that helped make Louisa’s books. Alcott has told us that many of Louisa’s plots were suggested by her mother’s recital of incidents she recalled. Abba knew, too, many of Colonel May’s stories; and after her mother’s death Louisa sent Sam for her grandfather’s notebooks, from which she derived many more suggestions.” (page 75, Marmee, the Mother of Little Women).

Budding actress

Abba also had a flair for the dramatic and even nursed ideas of becoming an actress when she was a child (pg. 110). Anna and Louisa, of course, loved to stage plays and Abba fully supported them, knowing it was a good way to channel energy and imagination as well as stress. Undoubtedly, this proved to be an important coping mechanism through the difficult early years the family faced.

The May household was always filled with friends and neighbors eager to listen to Colonel May weave his stories. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!

A mind for reform

A lesser known facet of Abba’s life is her pioneering work as a relief worker. With Bronson unable (or unwilling) to work for a living wage, she became one the first modern social workers out of necessity. Her family was often nearly as poor as the people she served. Salyer writes glowingly of  her work which showed a marked flair for organizing while caring for the poor from her heart. :

“For two years Abba continued her noble work. How noble it really was, only those could tell to whom she personally ministered. Her reports, vivid and vigorous as they are, cannot begin to show all she accomplished and all she learned. She came to know how true had been some of the portrayals of London slum life which she had before thought overdrawn and oversentimentalized. Louisa saw some of what to her mother had become familiar, and Abba later recalled scenes and incidents that Louisa used freely in her books, notably in Work[: A Story of Experience]” (pg. 148)

From mother to daughter

Louisa learned from her mother’s example and developed a passion for reform, seeking pragmatic rather than philosophical solutions. She worked for women’s suffrage both on a national stage and in her hometown of Concord (being one of the first women to vote). She would visit prisons and homes for orphans. She often signed her letters, “Yours for reform always.” And her writing, especially on the juvenile level, sought to expose young people to reformist ideas, especially about women (see post on An Old-Fashioned Girl).

These are just a few examples of the profound nature of Abba’s influence on Louisa.. She is the finest example of a mother who poured herself into her children and saw great results. Abba was very gifted and in today’s society could have enjoyed great success professionally. However, she used her gifts just as well, if not better, by pouring herself into her family.

Is there someone in your life who has stood behind you and made you great? “Great” has many definitions . . . think about it. :-)


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“Love your duty”

Continuing on with Marmee, the Mother of Little Women*by Sandford Meddick Salyer:

Louisa bound to duty

I think everyone can agree that Louisa May Alcott was a duty-bound woman.

Duty motivated and justified her need to write for money (molding her into the professional that she was known and respected for). Duty bound her to her parents and their care, giving her an easy excuse to avoid marriage (which was something she wanted to avoid anyway).

Duty bound her to her sisters, caring financially for Anna and her boys after John Pratt died by writing Little Men and giving all earnings to them, and helping Anna buy her own home. She paid for May’s trips to Europe enabling her to realize her dream as a serious artist.

Perks and costs

Duty is not always a bad thing – it supplied Louisa with purpose and contributed greatly to her drive for success.

But duty is demanding and she sometimes chaffed at it. Feelings of resentment often mixed in with the pleasure of providing for her family. It can be seen in her journal entries. She obsessed over her duty, and at times, became a prisoner of it.

Inevitably it caused her to sacrifice her personal artistic growth for the financially rewarding work that would support her family.

Still, there were perks – Louisa did enjoy indulging in her own comforts.

Duty’s beginnings

So where did this sense of duty come from? Not from far away . . .

” . . . I press thee to my heart, as Duty’s faithful child.”

On page 70 in Marmee, the Mother of Little Women, Salyer writes:  ” . . .’Love your duty and you will be happy.’  Abba’s text for herself . . . Now she found ways of making her girls, who after all were quite human children, love duty, too – even when eight years old. All their lives they loved it, and when Louisa was a woman, her father in his sonnet to her could give her no higher praise for the great sacrifices she had always made than to call her ‘Duty’s faithful child.’ “

Personal musings

I wish I could have better imparted Abba’s teaching about duty to my children (now grown) but I didn’t come to appreciate it myself until I was much older.

It’s is such an onerous word to so many (like obedience and submission). I find now that duty and obligation can be my friends, freeing me from the slavery of emotions which are fleeting. Duty moves me to do the right thing even if I don’t feel like doing it, and in the long run, it’s always the best decision.

While my husband and I did take advantage of our children’s desires to “help” when they were little, putting them to work right away (and now they help without balking), they don’t truly appreciate yet the value of duty.

How duty serves

Duty served Louisa well except on those occasions when she obsessed over it and took it too far. In my exposure to 19th century writings, duty was all important then. The pendulum has now swung way over to the other side. Yet in middle age, I am finding, like Louisa, that duty is good.

Duty signifies discipline (another word with an onerous connotation) and discipline is good, bringing order to your life. You can’t accomplish anything significant without it. Only the most disciplined athlete goes on to the Olympics. Dreamer that I am, discipline, duty and hard work have been hard fought for once I recognized their true value.

I’m hoping now, like Louisa, that I will be able to apply duty to those dreams closest to my heart, and move them out of the dream realm into reality.

What are your feelings about duty and obligation?


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Continuing with Marmee, the Mother of Little Women: tantalizing look into Lizzie Alcott

Quite a while ago I promised to write more on Marmee, the Mother of Little Womenby Sandford Meddick Salyer and as usual, I got sidetracked (have to stop going to the library! :-) ). As I mentioned before in my first post, this book was a very pleasurable read chock full of information. Salyer did his homework. It read more like a memoir but nevertheless, I learned a great deal about how Abba, and family life, shaped the two most successful Alcotts, Louisa and May.

Windows into Lizzie

I also got some tantalizing new tidbits about third sister Lizzie (Beth in Little Women), known as the “shadow sister” because she was so meek and mild. Lizzie is a total mystery to me. All the other sisters candidly spoke of themselves and were sufficiently introspective in their journals and letters while Lizzie showed no introspection, her journal entries being very plain and factual. Here’s a sample:

From Lizzie’s journal

Sunday, 19 April [1846] … Father walked in the woods with us.  We saw some pretty trees to set out in the yard at home.  I read in the “White Rose” and cleared out my trunk..  We went on the hill to see the rainbow, it was very beautiful.  Abba [May]and I went to the brook.  I sewed a little in Louisa’s room.

Monday 20…I picked blue violets and dandelions.  At ten I came into school and wrote my journal for Sunday and this morning.  I did some sums in long Division and read a piece of poetry with father.

Tuesday 21 …It was a beautiful evening. I made my bed and cleared mother’s room…I sewed some before I came into school and drew this little map of our place, but could not do it very well so father helped me about it.

From Madelon Bedell’s footnotes, p 247-8. Full text in Houghton Library, Harvard University, Alcott Pratt collection (my thanks to Harriet Reisen for sending this to me).

Did Lizzie hide something behind a sly smile?

Who was Lizzie?

Was she the odd one out, not having that quality of introspection? Or was she so very painfully private that she never dared show her inner self? When she died, she did not go peacefully into the night as Louisa described in Little Women. In death as she never did in life, Lizzie showed anger and frustration, lashing out at family members (described vividly in Martha Saxton’s biography Louisa May: A Modern Biography and also in Susan Cheever’s Louisa May Alcott A Personal Biography). Did she feel her painful, lingering death was unjust given that she had been so good in life? We will never know. Death has a way, however, of unmasking the truth and it leads me to believe there was more to Lizzie than met the eye (Madelon Bedell in her biography The Alcotts: Biography of a Family apparently felt that way too with her caption under Lizzie’s one known picture mentioning a “sly smile.”).

Lizzie did, however, come by her peaceful and serene manner honestly and not just through Bronson. Salyer notes on page 23 that Abba’s sister Eliza was very much like Lizzie (in fact, Colonel May thought that Abba and Bronson had named Lizzie after Eliza even though she was really named after Elizabeth Peabody).  Bronson called Lizzie his “psyche”, his soul mate (or better yet, a perfect reflection of himself.)

A description

Dr. Frederick Llewellyn Hovey Willis in his book, Alcott Memoirs, described each of the Alcotts. As a young man going through school, Willis boarded often with the Alcotts; in fact Marmee practically adopted the orphaned Lew.  Salyer quotes Lew on page 120:

“So also was that of Elizabeth as far as the beauty of that spiritual nature could be captured in words. Willis’ picture agrees with all the others that we have of her: ‘She was possessed of an even, lovable disposition, a temperament akin to Mr. Alcott’s – indeed, more than akin, since it was a very counterpart. Under any and all conditions she was a sunny and serene as a morning in June. Her appearance was that of a typical Puritan maid. She loved music, played the piano with more ease than any of her sisters and with something of real appreciation.’ “

Was music her expression?

There are two kinds of musicians – the technicians (like my husband) who read and write down music easily and can comprehend musical theory. They usually have mathematical minds. Then there are the ear people (like myself) – we can’t read as well because our ears pick up the music faster than our minds can comprehend the theory. We are not mathematicians. I had read somewhere that Lizzie showed possible mathematical ability (note the mention of long division in her journal entry) so that would lead me to believe she was more like my husband. One thing is for sure though: music is an emotional experience, to the player as well as the listener. My husband and I, although we approach music very differently (and have very different tastes) both feel music intensely. Can I assume also that Lizzie nurtured an inner life through her music? Was that her way of expressing her inner life, all the while keeping it a secret? Again, we will never know (though I plan on exploring this further).

This is why I found Marmee, the Mother of Little Women so enjoyable, because it contained such rich (and to me), new information about all the Alcotts. It was way more than a pleasant memoir about Abba.

In future posts, I will dig deeper into the heart of this book.


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We have a winner!

Thanks to everyone for participating in the latest giveaway on the Louisa May Alcott is My Passion blog – a print of May Alcott’s painting of an owl, something she painted in Louisa’s room directly over the fireplace.

And the winner is?

Jillian!

Congratulations to our winner!

A haven for Alcott enthusiasts

Thanks so much for all your words of encouragement. I look forward to continuing to build this blog into a premier place where Alcott enthusiasts can live their passion for our favorite author.

Upcoming series on Abba Alcott

In the weeks to come I will begin a series about Abba Alcott. I just finished Sandford Salyor’s book, Marmee, the Mother of Little Women and am now going back to each page I turned down to take some notes. This was a wonderful book and my thanks to Gina for recommending it. I was able to buy a copy from Amazon, an original copy in its dust jacket. I am thrilled. :-) . The author (a man) had some wonderful insights into Abba who was a pioneer for women and a very important influence on Louisa. She was Louisa’s champion.

p.s. I found an awesome free program that is great for getting ideas down on paper that synchronizes your computers, smart phone, iPod Touch, etc. It’s called Evernote. I can jot down ideas on my iPod and it will be available on any computer that I have Evernote loaded on. I can also take photos with my iPod or make an audio recording and they too will be made available on all my devices. It’s really easy to use. Guess I’m retiring my notebook and favorite pen for now. :-)

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Marmee, the Mother of Little Women

Thanks to the advice of a reader (much appreciated, Gina!), I’ve started reading Marmee, the Mother of Little Women by Sandford Meddick Salyor. Certainly you cannot look at the life of Louisa May Alcott without looking at her parents. There are plenty of works on Bronson but not that much on Abba (“Marmee”).  This 1949 biography reads well and I’m enjoying it so far.

Abba’s father, Colonel May

The book begins by discussing Abba’s childhood. Her father, Colonel May, was a charismatic and well-loved figure. His involvement with the blossoming Unitarian movement and the Rev. James Freeman, a founder of the movement, is noted with a plaque at historic King’s Chapel in Boston. Termed “liberal Christianity” by Salyor, Freeman, a well-loved pastor of the chapel for many years, rejected belief in the Trinity and changed the liturgical service by removing all references to the Trinity and replacing them with God the Father (see wikipedia). Colonel May, a fine singer, was the power behind The Hymnal, published in 1799 for use in the chapel.

Personal connection

King’s Chapel holds a personal memory for  me as my best childhood friend was memorialized there. Kate Ross, an up-and-coming historical mystery writer whose series based on English dandy Julian Kestrel had won acclaim, died all too early from breast cancer. She was the most magical playmate a girl could ever have. We’d spend hours conjuring up imaginary characters and then acting out stories impromptu. We wrote a very melodramatic (and now hysterically funny) play called “Apache Captives” for our girl scout troop.

I always knew Kate would be a writer. Even though she studied ancient Greek at Wellesley College and got her law degree at Yale, I knew she would write. We drifted apart as childhood friends do, but years later, my husband rushed home to tell me Kate was the on the radio! She was on a talk show with the now late David Brudnoy (a legendary talk show host) so I called in! We reconnected on the radio. Later we saw each other and had a wonderful visit. I have her last novel, The Devil in Music, in my library.

Even as I write this, I can see the early appeal Louisa May Alcott had for me with her flair for plays and drama. I loved doing that too. Kate was my Louisa and I was her Anna.

Talent passed down

Later on in the book Salyor describes Colonel May’s artistry as a conversationalist, attracting most particularly the children of the neighborhood to come and listen to his stories.  He would vividly act out characters and I could see immediately where Louisa got her talent.

There was much musical talent in the family – Colonel May with his deep bass, Sam (Abba’s brother) with his tenor, Louisa (her older sister) with a dazzling soprano, and Abba with her alto. Undoubtedly this is where Lizzie got her musical talent. Not much is said about just how accomplished she was but the talent certainly ran deep in the family.

I’m looking forward to getting deeper in this book!