To celebrate Mother’s day this month we have put together some of our best fictional mothers.
Molly Weasley from the Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling
Molly Weasley is a loving mother of seven children and is known for her kind heart and fierce protectiveness towards her family. She is always ready to go to any length to ensure the safety of her children and has proved herself as a true hero in the Battle of Hogwarts. Her iconic line, “Not my daughter, you bitch!” while dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange, has become a symbol of maternal love and courage.
Marmee March from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Marmee March is a wise and loving mother who teaches her four daughters the importance of family, kindness, and selflessness. She is the backbone of the March family and keeps them together during difficult times. Her unconditional love and guidance have helped her daughters grow into strong, independent women.
Miss Honey from Matilda by Roald Dahl
Mrs. Weasley is the motherly figure that Matilda never had in her life. She takes the young girl under her wing and treats her with the same love and care as her own children. She is fiercely protective of Matilda and stands up to the abusive Miss Trunchbull to protect her. Her nurturing nature has a positive impact on Matilda, who learns to love herself and her unique abilities
Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
While Mrs. Bennet may not be the most likable character in literature, her love for her daughters is undeniable. She is a fierce advocate for their happiness and well-being, even if her methods are often misguided. Her devotion to her family serves as a reminder that a mother’s love is always present, even when it is imperfectly expressed.
Marilla Cuthbert from Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery
Marilla is a severe and straightforward woman, but that’s just because she knows how to get things done. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love Anne — whom she welcomes into her home and family.
Frannie Lancaster from The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
Frannie has to deal with the unthinkable — a dying child — but throughout her own intense suffering, she’s constantly checking on Hazel, putting on a face of strength, and quietly preparing herself for what will come next. She’s also a genuinely fun, understanding, and often optimistic woman, encouraging her daughter to make the most of the time she has, and (eventually) allowing her the freedom to do it.
Suyuan Woo from The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan
We’re naming Suyuan Woo because she’s the founder of the Joy Luck Club, but really any of the mothers in this book (and club) — An-Mei Hsu, Lindo Jong, and Ying-Ying St. Clair — should be included. The women have come to America to give their daughters what they imagine will be better lives, knowing their daughters will never truly understand what they’ve sacrificed. They navigate issues of cultural identity and ambition, while cultivating different kinds of strength and power, and pass everything they learn down to their children.
Cathy Ames from East of Eden by John Steinbeck
Steinbeck introduces Cathy Ames as “a malformed soul.” Motherhood hardly reforms the former prostitute who killed her parents by setting fire to their house. After seducing both Trask brothers (thus leaving the parentage of her twins open to question), Cathy abandons her children. That’s not the worst fate, as it frees them from a woman who proceeds to murder her husband and run a brothel that’s involved in all kinds of drugs and violence. In Steinbeck’s nod to parable, Cathy is meant to evoke the introduction of sin into the world; he also set the bar for bad mothering extremely high.
Janice Angstrom from Rabbit, Run by John Updike
Janice Angstrom is a drunk mess. To be fair, she is stuck in a marriage with a selfish, wayward ex-high school basketball star who spends all day hawking MagiPeelers to housewives. But even life with Rabbit Angstrom doesn’t justify the mother that Janice becomes or her ultimate, unforgivable act. After spiraling into a dangerous state of postpartum depression mixed with heavy drinking, Janice accidentally drowns their baby daughter in the bath.
Eva Khatchadourian from We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
At the outset it’s hard not to feel badly for Eva Khatchadourian; her son Kevin goes on a shooting spree at his school, mercilessly killing nine classmates and two members of staff. But the genius of Shriver’s chilling tale is that she investigates not just Kevin’s guilt, but Eva’s. It’s a twisted take on a question that society has debated for ages: what responsibility, if any, does a mother have over her child’s behaviour? In this case, Eva certainly bears some blame. Her adversarial relationship with her son starts with pregnancy (she only concedes to have a child to please her husband) and escalates though Kevin’s childhood, epitomized by an episode where she throws Kevin across the room, breaking his arm. Whether or not Eva is to blame for Kevin’s crime, there was no way that child was going to grow up without some serious issues.
Fiona Brewer from About a Boy by Nick Hornby
There is a real darkness to the character of Fiona. She exemplifies the problems that can occur when a woman who’s not ready, or willing, to become a mother has a child. Fiona is immature and depressed, especially in the face of her latest romantic breakup, and she completely ignores the signs that her young son Marcus is struggling. At the height of her selfishness, Fiona overdoses on drugs in the living room, lying in a place where Marcus is sure to find her.
Emma Bovary from Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
Emma Bovary’s life is no picnic, but her decision to deal with her mounting debt through suicide ensures that her daughter, Berthe, will have a life that is just as desperate as Emma’s own. The last we see of Berthe is when she is sent to live with an impoverished aunt who forces her to work in a cotton mill. It’s a sad state and, given how her mother’s notorious past will haunt her, things are likely to only get worse.
Sweetness from God Help the Child by Toni Morrison
Disappointment mixed with a sort of revulsion is what overtakes Sweetness, a light-skinned black woman who gives birth to a “blue-black” baby in Toni Morrison’s novel. Sweetness hates her daughter Bride’s dark skin and Bride grows up without any love or tenderness; Sweetness won’t even touch her baby’s skin without a cloth or sponge. In the end it’s Sweetness’s cruelty that impacts Bride’s life, far more than the colour of her skin.
