“You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.”
~Louisa May Alcott
…and happy all alone. That describes me to a tee.
Aside from the obvious that I resemble Jo March most in being “the writer,” that awkward individual too devoted to perfecting her talents that she figuratively has her head in the clouds, I took a quiz that claimed I was more like her youngest sister, Amy.
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Quiz can be found on PBS
Whether or not there’s any truth to this assessment, I can’t be sure. Well, except that I am the youngest in the family and that I determined to tour Europe again (the right way).
That, of course, should be left for another story entirely.
Perhaps I take after both characters: Jo, for her boldness and independence; Amy for her artistic endeavors. After running around my house in search of the classic book, I decided to open to a random page, this one about Amy’s artistic pursuits – which were many.
It takes people a long time to learn the difference between talent and genius, especially ambigitous young men and women. Amy was learning this distinction through much tribulation; for, mistaking enthusiasm for inspiration, she attempted every branch of art with youthful audacity.
And, over the past few years, I could say something the same about myself. To name a few: landscape and travel photography, writing poetry and song lyrics, interior design, and bullet journaling. Although many of these I have chosen not to pursue, landscape and travel photography is the only one I could see myself doing in the future.
Of course the writer in me will always win. Perusing the book for some of my favorite passages that I underlined, I found one on Jo March, which aside from its humor is still quite relevant to me.
“An old maid, that’s what I’m to be. A literary spinster, with a pen for a spouse, a family of stories for children, and twenty years hence a morsel of fame, perhaps; when, like poor Johnson, I’m old, and can’t enjoy it, solitary, and can’t share it, independent, and don’t need it. Well I needn’t be a sour saint nor a selfish sinner; and, I dare say, old maids are very comfortable when they get used to it; but–” and there Jo sighed, as if the prospect was not inviting.
So which one is it? I can’t exactly say, because I seem to have adapted some of who I am from both characters.
Are there any characters in books you relate to? Who in Little Women might you be?