I doubt there could have been any better gift to myself this past December than reading “Little Women” for the first time before going to see the new film version adapted and directed by Greta Gerwig. It’s a somewhat strange prospect for a man over forty years old to read this classic novel of sisterhood which most readers first discover in their adolescent or teen years. But I immediately fell in love with the March girls with their various different creative pursuits, tragi-comic adventures and moral dilemmas as they grow into adulthood. Although I knew one of the girls died I couldn’t remember which one it was and having not seen any of the previous film versions I knew little about the plot of this novel. So it was entirely fresh to me and I got caught up in the story with all the girls’ aspirations, good deeds and occasional squabbling.
One of the scenes which struck me the most was their mother Marmee’s confession to Jo that her temper can become as heated as her daughter’s. It’s an endearing moment that hints at a deeper complexity in a character who is otherwise entirely charitable and good natured. As expected, there were a lot of moral lessons in the novel but I think many of them still stand up and are inspiring for the way the various stories encourage us to be better people. I wanted to listen and learn from them because all the girls are very endearing. However, a section which comes across as a bit antiquated is when Marmee advises Meg on how to satisfy and appease her straying husband who spends time in the company of another woman because of the drudgeries of home life and young parenthood. While it’s an understandable situation the blame is uncomfortably placed entirely on Meg’s shoulders. So it’s good that in the new film this is switched around so Meg’s husband John Brooke must adapt to accommodate Meg’s desire for occasional respites (rather than the other way around.)
It’s interesting how many readers end up feeling attached and sympathetic with one sister in particular and claim they are most like either Meg, Jo, Beth or Amy. I could definitely see aspects of my personality in each of the girls so couldn’t totally define myself as being most like one or another. I’m probably mostly a mixture of Meg and Jo though I definitely have Beth and Amy moments. Because each of the girls are quite distinct in their nature they are so easy to identify with and I can definitely recognize qualities in each of them that I’ve noticed in other people throughout my life. I’m guessing while reading the novel most readers probably also feel like Laurie in wanting to join in the girls’ activities and become an honorary member of the March family – as I really wanted to!
There was only one section of the novel that I found somewhat tedious and cloying. It comes later in the book when the narrator self-consciously focuses on Meg’s twins and youngest daughter. The way the dialogue is written with babyish language used by the children came across as grating to me. But on the whole I felt fully engaged with the sisters’ stories and following what happened to each girl as she grew, became ill or encountered new professional or romantic opportunities.
Since this novel has been adapted for film a number of times already some critics have expressed confusion about why a new movie of it needed to be made. But one of the most interesting choices Gerwig made was in alternating scenes from the girls’ childhood with their later teenage lives. This flashing backward and forward builds to a more rounded perspective of their development since the novel is told in a linear way. It also tunes the viewer into how the conclusion of this new film is creatively ambiguous because of how the final scenes we watched are interspersed with each other. In one we see a storyline where Jo gets married (in a somewhat formulaic conclusion) and in another we see her discussion with a publisher where she retains the copyright of her first novel suggesting more independence just as Louisa May Alcott (who never married) maintained. It’s unclear whether the scene we’ve watched where Jo races to catch Friedrich at the train station actually happened or if it’s part of fictional novel Jo has written about the girls’ lives. This ambiguity is a creative way to satisfy both the audiences’ craving for Jo to be married and pays tribute to how Alcott’s original intention. She didn’t want her character Jo to get married but felt pressured to write this conclusion because many readers at the time wanted to see this occur. In any case, I found the new film a complete joy to watch and I’m so glad I read the novel beforehand to fully experience the original text of the March family’s wonderful story.
