Picspam - Beth
Not all the sadness of this book is reduced to a love that do not succeed; regardless of the characteristics most autobiographical novel, Louisa May Alcott knew the absence of her sister to introduce us to a daughter of his ink: The sweet Beth.
In all likelihood, Beth is one of the characters who best embody the trope of "Too Good For This Sinful Earth". Clearly, she is the most idealized character of Little Women and is more than evident by its virtual absence of glaring flaws that plague her sisters. No wonder Beth was overlooked in the adaptations, which did not happen in the novel.
Alcott describes this character as: Elizabeth, or Beth, as everyone called her, was a rosy, smooth-haired, bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy manner, a timid voice, and a peaceful expression which was seldom disturbed. Her father called her 'Little Miss Tranquility', and the name suited her excellently, for she seemed to live in a happy world of her own, only venturing out to meet the few whom she trusted and loved.
Alcott made Beth a little angel in Earth, this is obvious since is the only character who can overcome her little defect, and was able to get not only spiritual rewards, but at least one material reward, in the form of a little cabinet piano which adaptations placed on different parts of the story:
However, Beth's life was not without its problems, its angelic character, put her at risk, showing that you can sometimes err on the side of goodness:
Beth did have the fever, and was much sicker than anyone but Hannah and the doctor suspected. The girls knew nothing about illness, and Mr. Laurence was not allowed to see her, so Hannah had everything her own way, and busy Dr. Bangs did his best, but left a good deal to the excellent nurse. Meg stayed at home, lest she should infect the Kings, and kept house, feeling very anxious and a little guilty when she wrote letters in which no mention was made of Beth's illness. She could not think it right to deceive her mother, but she had been bidden to mind Hannah, and Hannah wouldn't hear of 'Mrs. March bein' told, and worried just for sech a trifle.'
Jo devoted herself to Beth day and night, not a hard task, for Beth was very patient, and bore her pain uncomplainingly as long as she could control herself. But there came a time when during the fever fits she began to talk in a hoarse, broken voice, to play on the coverlet as if on her beloved little piano, and try to sing with a throat so swollen that there was no music left, a time when she did not know the familiar faces around her, but addressed them by wrong names, and called imploringly for her mother. Then Jo grew frightened, Meg begged to be allowed to write the truth, and even Hannah said she 'would think of it, though there was no danger yet'.
Fortunately, Beth survived scarlet fever, but she was weak for the rest of her days. Although Alcott never described directly any romance for Beth, some people (Jo included!) like to pair her with Laurie.
While apparently absorbed in her own affairs, Jo watched Beth, and after many conflicting conjectures, finally settled upon one which seemed to explain the change in her. A slight incident gave Jo the clue to the mystery, she thought, and lively fancy, loving heart did the rest. She was affecting to write busily one Saturday afternoon, when she and Beth were alone together. Yet as she scribbled, she kept her eye on her sister, who seemed unusually quiet. Sitting at the window, Beth's work often dropped into her lap, and she leaned her head upon her hand, in a dejected attitude, while her eyes rested on the dull, autumnal landscape. Suddenly some one passed below, whistling like an operatic blackbird, and a voice called out, "All serene! Coming in tonight."
Beth started, leaned forward, smiled and nodded, watched the passer-by till his quick tramp died away, then said softly as if to herself, "How strong and well and happy that dear boy looks."
"Hum!" said Jo, still intent upon her sister's face, for the bright color faded as quickly as it came, the smile vanished, and presently a tear lay shining on the window ledge. Beth whisked it off, and in her half-averted face read a tender sorrow that made her own eyes fill. Fearing to betray herself, she slipped away, murmuring something about needing more paper.
"Mercy on me, Beth loves Laurie!" she said, sitting down in her own room, pale with the shock of the discovery which she believed she had just made. "I never dreamed of such a thing. What will Mother say? I wonder if her . . ." there Jo stopped and turned scarlet with a sudden thought. "If he shouldn't love back again, how dreadful it would be. He must. I'll make him!" and she shook her head threateningly at the picture of the mischievous-looking boy laughing at her from the wall. "Oh dear, we are growing up with a vengeance. Here's Meg married and a mamma, Amy flourishing away at Paris, and Beth in love. I'm the only one that has sense enough to keep out of mischief."
Adaptations rarely take into account this assumption of Jo. As far as I can report, only the TV adaptation of 1970 has given enough screen time to Laurie and Beth:
1970: Sarah Craze and Stephen Turner
Alas! Beth was not made for romance. Not much later, his health deteriorated and she tried to keep it secret, making Jo partaker of her secret. Beth's health, committed from scarlet fever, shortened her days, and soon left her home and those she loved.
As Beth had hoped, the 'tide went out easily', and in the dark hour before dawn, on the bosom where she had drawn her first breath, she quietly drew her last, with no farewell but one loving look, one little sigh.
~*~*~
This was a collaborative post, please show your appreciation to chiana606 for her hard work!