“The clocks were striking midnight, and the rooms were very still as a figure glided quietly from bed to bed, smoothing a coverlid here, settling a pillow there, and pausing to look long and tenderly at each unconscious face, to kiss each with lips that mutely blessed, and to pray the fervent prayers which only mothers utter.” (Louisa May Alcott, Little Women, 1868).
The Evolution of Motherhood in Literature
Motherhood has long been a defining theme in literature, reflecting society’s shifting attitudes toward women, family, and autonomy. For centuries, literature has shaped and reinforced ideals of motherhood, often presenting women as self-sacrificing nurturers whose primary role is to serve their children and husbands. Yet, as gender roles evolved, so did literary portrayals of mothers—transforming from silent martyrs into complex, rebellious, and even radical figures. By examining characters such as Dolly in Anna Karenina, Mrs. Bennet in Pride and Prejudice, Offred in The Handmaid’s Tale, Helen Graham in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Sethe in Beloved, and Marmee in Little Women, we can trace how literature has both challenged and upheld patriarchal constructs of motherhood.
In early literature, mothers were often confined to the role of the dutiful caregiver, embodying the idealized virtues of patience, morality, and sacrifice. Marmee, the beloved mother in Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women (1868), represents this archetype. She guides her daughters through hardship with wisdom and emotional strength, reinforcing the Victorian ideal that a mother’s duty is to shape her children into virtuous individuals. Similarly, Dolly Oblonskaya in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina (1877) remains devoted to her children despite her husband’s infidelities, accepting her suffering as part of her maternal obligation. While both women exhibit strength, their resilience is bound to societal expectations that equate a woman’s worth with her ability to endure and nurture. Both are well-written, complex characters who, despite their traditional roles, possess reluctant feminist thoughts, questioning the constraints placed upon them.
Yet, literature has also exposed how societal pressures shape motherhood rather than personal choice. Mrs. Bennet in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (1813) portrays Mrs. Bennet as a comic figure—shallow, absurdly money-hungry, and obsessed with marrying off her daughters at any cost to wealthy bachelors. Still, her desperation speaks to a harsh reality. In a world where women’s futures depended entirely on securing a husband, mothers had little choice but to see their daughters as commodities in the marriage market. Though Mrs. Bennet is often dismissed as foolish, her behavior reflects the systemic constraints that forced women to prioritize survival over personal fulfillment.
Defying the Constraints of Motherhood
As literature progressed, maternal figures began to defy these constraints, resisting the idea that a woman’s only purpose is to sacrifice for her children. Helen Graham, in Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (1848), one of the first feminist novels, breaks away from an abusive marriage to protect her son, rejecting the notion that a mother should passively endure suffering for the sake of family unity. Helen’s escape is a radical act for the time, as she reclaims her independence in a society that views single motherhood as scandalous.
Few literary mothers embody the complexities of maternal love and trauma as powerfully as Sethe in Toni Morrison’s Beloved (1987). A formerly enslaved woman, Sethe makes the devastating choice to kill her daughter with a hacksaw and attempts to kill her other three children rather than allow them to be captured and returned to slavery. Sethe’s actions are shocking, yet after reading her history and life under slavery, the anger one feels while reading the book is turned on the slavers and the world in general. Morrison brings you kneeling into her story and forces readers to grapple with the brutal reality that for enslaved mothers, even death could be an act of love. Sethe’s story challenges the simplistic notion of maternal sacrifice, showing how systemic violence distorts the very meaning of motherhood and how killing one’s own child can be an act of rebellion.
Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale (1985) presents a chilling vision of motherhood as enforced servitude. While meant to be set in a dystopian world, all events in the book are based on real-life ones that happened in history. Offred, the protagonist, along with all the child-bearing women, is stripped of her rights and reduced to a reproductive vessel under a totalitarian state. In the novel, the world views Offred as a walking womb, yet her yearning for her lost daughter, taken by the state, humanizes her. Atwood’s novel critiques the exploitation of women’s reproductive roles, raising urgent questions about bodily autonomy and oppression. It exposes the historical and contemporary reality that women’s ability to give birth has often been used against them, binding them to societal expectations that deny them the right to self-determination.
The Evolving Portrayal of Motherhood
From the self-sacrificing figures of Victorian literature to the tragic, rebellious, and oppressed mothers of later works, the depiction of motherhood has evolved alongside societal norms. Early literature often idealized mothers as moral guardians, while later works exposed the complexities of maternal love, revealing both its joys and burdens. More modern portrayals confront how patriarchal societies have controlled and dictated motherhood, whether through social expectations, legal systems, or even outright force. Literary mothers, whether nurturing, domineering, or defiant, serve as mirrors of their cultural contexts. Their stories continue to captivate and challenge readers, offering ever-new perspectives on one of the most profound and universal human experiences.
People often forget to view mothers as humans. Religious scriptures and early literature would primarily describe mothers as either saintly or cruel and wicked. In the wake of the feminist revolution, novels have begun to portray mothers with greater depth, highlighting their multifaceted and complex identities beyond traditional roles. Writers bring these characters to life with such depth that they become, in a sense, universal—similar to Offred’s yearning for her lost daughter and Sethe’s cruelty when killing her child.
Recently, more books on motherhood have been published, offering nuanced and unfiltered perspectives on the realities of maternal life. Elena Ferrante’s The Lost Daughter and The Days of Abandonment are compelling meditations on motherhood’s ambivalence, struggles, and emotional intensity. Ferrante’s narratives reject the idealized image of the ever-nurturing mother, instead delving into the contradictions of love, resentment, and the desire for personal freedom.
Similarly, Lauren Groff captures the raw emotional experience of motherhood in Florida, opening the book with the striking confession, “I have somehow become a woman who yells.” This intimate, guilt-laden line immediately immerses readers in the tension between maternal devotion and frustration, revealing how even the most loving mothers grapple with their limitations. Through these modern works, literature challenges outdated motherhood ideals, presenting it as a complex, ever-evolving experience rather than a fixed role.
