PART TWO / CHAPTER FIVE

The Professor

Friedrich Bhaer. 

German expatriate. Scholar, philosopher, teacher. Itinerate professor-turned-tutor.

Friedrich was an intellectual empath. Despite his credentials and education, Friedrich did not have an ounce of pretence in his broken accent. He was a unique blend of compassion and brilliance. Everyone was an equal, no matter their pedigree or background. He spoke his heart. Was open-minded in his curiosities yet firm in his convictions. Friedrich proved over and again to be an unwavering friend, competent educator, and advocate for the less fortunate. He became one of Jo March’s best friends. One of her harshest critics. And eventually, Jo’s doting husband. Friedrich is one of the best. 

It’s a shame he isn’t a real person. 

Friedrich Bhaer is a fictional character born from the imagination of Lousia May Alcott. One of the secondary characters and leading men in her classic novel Little Women. I must confess that I am not an authority on all things Friedrich as I’ve yet to read Little Women. Tis’ on my “things to do immediately list”. But having watched the movie(s) thousands of times will say that I am very familiar with the generalities of Friedrich’s story. I daresay, I consider the professor a friend. 

On one of our first dates Faith “just had to show me one of her favourite movies!” The 1994 film adaptation of Little Women - or as we like to call it “the Winona Ryder version”. Faith had stolen her mom’s VHS copy and we watched it in her grandmother’s basement. And then watched it again. And again. Over and over. And over and over and over again. Dating - engaged - married - with children. The VHS became a DVD which became a download and then a stream. I couldn’t hope to count the times I’ve seen Little Woman. Or listened to the soundtrack. Or watched other adaptations of the same story. Or listened to their soundtracks. Little Women has become a staple in our home. An institution. Even a holiday! January has been unofficially christened “Little Women Month”. We make sure to watch the movie at least once. One year we even had a Little Women party, filled with our little women waltzing, sipping on little tea cups, and eating little scrumpets.

“Though, I confess,” to steal the words of Mr Brooke. “I am distracted at the theatre…” and haven’t always been a fan of Little Women. 

Early days were tolerated. I willingly sat the my first few hundred viewings, determined to be the best boyfriend/fiancé/newlywed husband I could be. But I found the story dull. Slow. Character driven. There were no guns or lightsabers, explosions, beheadings, or spaceships. Even the ending was ho-hum and overly sentimental. Little Women wasn’t my jam but if it brought Faith comfort - then by jove! - I could watch it with her! 

I am glad I did. 

Over time I grew fond of the story. The history of 19th century America. The musical score. Architecture. Narrative pacing. And the characters. I began to admire these ‘little women’ with genuine affection. Endeared to the sisterly antics of Meg, Beth, Amy, and Jo. There was a lot less brotherly punching than I was used to but their family dynamics resonated. I even started calling my own mother - “Marmee”. I could feel Teddy’s frustration. Amy’s self-protection. Meg’s pressures and Beth’s sorrow. And Jo’s angst. Cooped up. Confined. A burgeoning creative trapped in a limiting world. Jo’s story felt like my own.

“I love our home,” Jo said. “But I'm just so fitful, and I can't stand being here.”

I have always been a dreamer. A person with high ideals and big ideas. Like Jo, I left home to find myself. Her New York City was my British Columbia. For both of us, leaving the nest was a first-step in existential liberation, “stepp[ing] over the divide between childhood and all that lay beyond.” In the rough and strange world of the city Jo found herself and would-be future husband. But only in returning home was she ready to find her voice. Her creative passion. And only then was she ready to embrace true love. 

In the “Winona Ryder version” Friedrich Bhaer is played by Gabriel Bryne - who is in my estimation - the gold standard for all Professor Bhaers past and future. Bryne’s performance is superb. Subtle. Precise. Every movement, pause, and wrinkle of his brow fills out Friedrich’s story. Bryne’s voice is clear. Calming. His lines are said with gentle perfection. Especially the awkward ones. 

Friedrich and Jo’s romance wasn’t typically Hollywood. It didn’t start with fireworks, chocolates, and roses. Friedrich and Jo were very different people from very different worlds. Friedrich was quiet and ill-mannered. Jo was loud and anxious. Friedrich was easy going and malleable. Jo was passionate and determined. Friendship came first. Authentic friendship. A kind that risks, tests, and makes better. Their love was simmering-steady. Slow burning; warmed-on-low. Unforced. Gradual. And in my opinion, this was Friedrich’s doing. 

Friedrich wasn’t the kind of person to push his agenda or force his will. Friedrich was patient. Ever-kind. Imaginatively empathic. His heart understood Jo’s. Not as a future wife or partner - but as a fellow human being. One he respected. A person he felt affinity with and for. Friedrich saw Jo as an equal and challenged her as such. Pulled on hidden strings and thread new ways for her to be. But not without pain or discomfort. 

One of my least/most favourite scenes takes place outside of Jo’s room in the boarding house where she was living in New York. Friedrich was at her door with a bound stack of papers in his hand: “The Sinner’s Corpse”. It was a draft novel, Jo’s first. A fantastical story about swords and murders and villains and romance. Exciting but forgettable. Like a 19th century Marvel flick about demi-gods and flying metal men (gasp!). Friedrich handed the stack back to Jo. “Did you read it?!” Jo asked with anticipation. “Yes…” Friedrich replied. His face was downcast and unexpressive. Jo, sensing Friedrich’s disapproval, pushed the matter: “What is your honest opinion?” Jo asked. “I’d really like to know.” Friedrich paused. Sensitive and careful. He knew that was treading cross fragile ground for sharing one’s art takes guts. Exposed-ribs-vulnerability. But Friedrich saw in Jo what Jo could not see in herself. There was a deeper art inside of her, waiting to be let out. A version of herself she didn’t know was there. Or even knew was possible.

“There is more to you than this…” Friedrich said. His voice was soft and loving. “If you have the courage to write it.”

Friedrich loved Jo into wholeness.

His love for her was transcendent. God-like-love. As only true love can be. Not overly sentimental or flighty but the kind that reaches beyond the material and into the soul of another. Love that is patient, kind, gentle, and understanding. Love that doesn’t seek its own will but puts the other first. The kind of love that brings heaven to earth. Changes lives. And makes us human. 

Friedrich Bhaer is a simple and compelling character. He wasn’t the richest, loudest, classiest, or most handsome. He wasn’t the obvious first, second, third, or even fourth choice for Jo’s suitor. Yet, Bhaer is a character of deep consequence and Jo would have never been fully Jo without him. 

Oh, if we could all have a Friedrich Bhaer in our life. Someone who see us incomplete, yet loves us whole.

Bhaer. 

The moment the name was said aloud, no other name would do. Professor Friedrich Bhaer. 

“That’s what we’ll call him.” Professor Friedrich Bhaer our Bernese Mountain Dog.

Bhaer for short.