A Little Women adaptation made for modern feminists?
It’s more feminist than its predecessor, but how does it compare to the book?
Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women is a cozy family story that sits somewhere between rags and riches. Book-lovers across the western world grew up with this tale of four sisters, their love and their quarrels. Most of us recognise ourselves in either the wilful and creative Jo, elegant and motherly Meg, shy and good Beth or the pretentious and stubborn Amy. Or a little of all of them.
The latest film adaptation covers both the book Little Women and its sequel Little Wives.
Attention, major spoilers ahead!
How much of Little Women is based on Alcott’s own sisters?
The first book is mainly for children, which makes it hard to reread as an adult. I first read it two decades ago, but the story is still so present in my head. There is little excitement and it serves more as a collection of funny stories of the four sisters, and their characters are described with such love.
It is not hard to believe that the book is based on Alcott’s own life, the author’s own love for her sisters burns through the pages. The four sisters even got similar characters and life stories as the real-life Alcott sisters.
Jo, Amy and Beth
Louisa Alcott had a rather difficult relationship with May, her youngest sister, similar to that of Amy and Jo.
May Alcott also went to Europe like Amy, and Louisa made this possible for her with the money she received from writing. It was exceptional for a woman living in the 19th century to not only make a living from writing, but to make a living for her whole family.
Louisa was able to become quite wealthy, having bargained hard for her Little Women book deal.
The author’s second-youngest sister, Lizzy Alcott, was also sickly like Beth, and died after years of suffering. She suffered mentally, too. In Little Wives we do not find out what it exactly is wrong with her, because Alcott’s family didn’t know that either. She was diagnosed with “hysteria”, but that could be anything during those times, and often referred to depression.
Louisa May Alcott never married and never wanted to.
It was her publisher who pushed her to make Jo marry in her book. Though her descriptions of Mr. Bhaer help us to understand why Jo falls in love with him — no man has been described over so many pages in this story, not even Laurie. Louisa worked hard to make the thought of marriage bearable.
What has Greta Gerwig’s acclaimed adaptation made of the story?
It is hard to make a movie when several adaptations already exist — especially when one of those adaptations is Gillian Armstrong’s 1994 version staring Wynona Rider (Jo), Kirsten Dunst (Amy), Claire Danes (Beth) and Susan Sarandon (Marmie).
Having watched the 1994-movie more than fifteen times, my expectations were high going into Gerwig’s remake.
In all honesty, the grown-up versions of the sisters work better in Gerwig’s version. The younger versions are awkward and borderline unbearable. Amy should have been the youngest, but Gerwig used the same actress, Florence Pugh, for Amy at 20 and 13. As a 13-year-old, she naturally looked like a dressed up 20-year-old, it felt clownish and amateur.
Is a little woman made for men, or made for herself?
The book version of Jo is more easily recognisable in Saoirse Ronan (2019) than Winona Ryder (1994).
Ryder was very petite and, though she acted boyish, teared up more easily. The Jo found between the pages of the book was always described as hiding her tears, and generally came across rougher. It catered a little too closely to the needs of a male-gaze to choose Ryder to play Jo.
Similarly, Jo’s achievements in New York have been depicted far more powerfully in Gerwig’s 2019 adaptation. Her bargaining is fierce, which is a beautiful homage to Alcott’s real story. We can feel Jo’s excitement, having her own work printed and published.
In contrast, the 1994 version focused more on Jo meeting Mr. Bhaer, and on their relationship generally.
The relationship is sweet, to be sure, though he is a little bit too old. In the book he was not older than 40, but in the 1994 adaptation was clearly far older. This is one thing the current movie lacks — Mr. Bhaer is very lovable, nor is his character particularly consequential at all.
The emphasis in 2019 is instead on Jo’s writing, rather than on her matchmaking ability. I imagine the author, like myself and other feminists, would likely have preferred that, too.
Powerful women replace petty women in the latest adaptation
It may be harsh, but Amy was quite the nag in the book. In Gerwig’s movie, however, she delivers a fierce monologue on the economic situation of women in the 19th Century.
As a woman there’s no way for me to make money. Not enough to earn a living, or to support my family, and if I had my own money, which I don’t, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. […] So, don’t sit there and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you, but it most certainly is for me.
Greta Gerwig has transformed Amy from the least-liked sister to a feminist icon — and I am sure this is another reclamation of agency that Louisa May Alcott would have appreciated.
The lack of intersectionality was a missed opportunity
It is unfortunate that the recent movie picked up so little of the political situation of the time. Alcott’s family were active opposers of slavery, and yet only one scene — in which Marmie works next to a Black woman, and there is a slight notion of Marmie being “full of shame for her country” — is this portrayed in Gerwig’s adaptation.
It felt like a token moment.
This lack of intersectionality shows that Gerwig only really injected some basic feminism into her adaptation, and not the kind being practiced broadly by younger-generation feminists today.
It is somewhat ironic that the author of a book written in 1868 shows more awareness of the intersectionality than a director in 2019.
Reclaiming Little Women’s feminist roots
The 1994 version is overall more moving, the relationships and romance make for a generally more emotional movie experience.
More than this, Armstrong’s version dealt more deliberately with Beth’s depression. Claire Danes performance of Beth was heart-wrenching and her words on her death bed were pointing out her unwillingness of growing up:
”I was never like the rest of you making plans about the great things I do. I never saw myself as much. […] Why does everyone want to go away? I love being home. But I don’t like being left behind.”
Considering how open discussions of mental health have become in recent years, it’s difficult to understand why Gerwig did not depict this aspect of Beth’s character more comprehensively.
Though I cannot say I personally preferred one or the other film adaptation of Little Women, I would give big fat plus points to Greta Gerwig for returning the story to its more feminist roots. Armstrong’s version is more moving, but Gerwig gives you more to think about, which means the movie lingers longer in your mind.
