Amy March

Amy March is the youngest of the March sisters, who sees things quickly and is bent on being taken for a little lady. She is concerned with neat dresses, decent manners, and the correct way of doing things. She draws and paints from an early date whenever time permits, converting odds and ends of time to tiny pictures and schemes for larger ones. Amy is proud and obstinate, but her vanity is genuine; she captivates people with bright conversation and circumspect courtesy.

At home, Amy rubs against Jo’s rough spots. She craves polish when Jo craves a sense of liberation, and their opposing tempers flare. But Amy respects Jo’s spirit of adventure, and Jo—if she does roll her eyes once in a while—understands Amy’s brave nature. Amy’s also observant: she watches and learns, imitating what succeeds and dropping unobtrusively what fails. When she fails, pride does not allow her easily to concede, but she almost always returns with a goodfaith attempt to improve.

Money and position are important to Amy, not because she’s heartless, but because she’s witnessed how they define a woman’s options. She comes to bind her taste to what matters to her. She still enjoys pretty things, but becomes more considerations about what’s worth wanting. Her work becomes less flashy and more consistent; she works on it, studies it, and allows discipline to do the things charm can’t.

As she grows, Amy’s best qualities come to the surface: tact, patience, and a soft sort of leadership. She can sweet a room with an equivocate, or a table setting that will make plain food become a feast. Amy finds a balance of head and heart—ambition and tenderness, style and substance. She starts out as a girl who needs the world to cheer, and becomes a girl who understands what there is to cheer for: honest work, loyal love, and beauty of good nature.