41 The Inevitable Feminist Framework of Alcott’s Little Women – Lizzy Hodges

The Inevitable Feminist Framework of Alcott’s Little Women

 Little Women was written in 1868 by Louisa May Alcott and has become a renowned classic for many reasons. Generations have kept up with the work, young and old alike, regardless of gender. A nineteenth-century novel, it recounts the story of four sisters, their trials and joys as they grow up, but proves itself as much more than that. The story of the March family has inspired several movie adaptations. These film adaptations tell readers much about the story by what is included from the novel, and also what is opted out of the actresses’ portrayals onscreen. In comparing film and literary adaptations, there is an argument to be made for fairness. Is it really equal to create, and then compare two different mediums of the same story? Do these adaptations actually matter, or are they crude ways of making money? In the defense of film adaptations of literature, Tibbetts argues, “They gave the filmmakers the incentive, opportunity, and example to develop complexities of narrative, characterization, and theme and extend the movies’ appeal to an ever-widening mass audience. Moreover, they brought with them an established mass recognition” (Tibbetts xiv). In the case of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, there are many adaptations to choose from. One relevant early 20th-century adaptation was directed by Mervyn LeRoy in 1949. I will compare this with the most recent Little Women adaptation, directed by Greta Gerwig in 2019. I argue that both Little Women 1949 and Little Women 2019 are preserved as products of their time, and adapt from a larger, feminist framework, Louisa Alcott’s Little Women.

There is some controversy in circles today as to whether or not Alcott’s novel was very feminist in nature. McCallum argues in “The Present Reshaping the Past Reshaping the Present: Film Versions of Little Women” that, “Alcott can only really be called a “feminist” in the context of mid-nineteenth-century American society” (84). This is certainly true, as some of the values of the time can be interpreted through her characters. For example, in the novel, all of the sisters end up married, despite Jo’s argument that she would never marry, told to Laurie when she turns down his proposal (Alcott 334). Much of this context is also present when comparing a version of the film from the 1940s, in conversation with one from the 2000s. Other critics such as Tomasek defend this beloved classic, asserting, “Likewise, feminists like Alcott worked within this reform tradition when they imaged a better world for women” (Tomasek 239).  McCallum goes on to summarize this in her argument, saying, “To expect Little Women to conform to twentieth-century feminist values and narrative patterns is to impose anachronistic ideological and generic paradigms” (84). Readers can deduce feminist meaning even despite the constraint of these bounds, even if simply from their interpretations of how characters are depicted in such adaptations.

In order to discuss how the leading ladies of Little Women are feminists, it is crucial to take a look at the matriarch raising them, their mother, Marmee. Marmee, the girl’s mother, is overtly feminist in the way that she interacts with her girls: “Characters like Marmee are given a much more outspoken feminist voice, thus making Alcott’s implied concerns explicit” (McCallum 84). Played by Mary Astor in 1949 and Laura Dern in 2019, both actresses portray a warm, comforting, and wise presence. That is, in one part, exactly who Marmee is. She is raising four girls while their father is at war, and the parents receive much criticism for leaving in social circles, as well as criticism at the hands of their close familial unit, Aunt March. Marmee encourages the girls with an open hand, never utilizing violence or anger to reprimand or reproach. In fact, when physical violence is used against Amy when she is naughty during school, the girl’s mother pulls her from attending, while firmly reminding her, “you broke the rules, and deserved some punishment for disobedience” (Alcott 67).

In the 1949 version, Mary Astor (Marmee) is over at their home taking care of the Hummels, and the girls decide on their own to give breakfast to the neighbors. In Greta Gerwig’s film, Laura Dern (Marmee) asks the girls if they will give their Christmas morning breakfast to their poor neighbors, the Hummels, and the girls agree. Each film version of this event reveals the strong female lead that is influencing her daughters, whether they decide to give their breakfast away without being asked or not. Marmee consistently praises and upholds the girls, while still ruling her household firmly. She never focuses on her daughters through means of future partners, monetary worth, or success. In fact, Kathryn Tomasek makes a great point while speaking about their mother’s hopes for her children: “Through this maternal wish for love and well-being also speaks the voice of a culture that sought more and more to limit the ways in which women might achieve “happiness” even as women’s options expanded over the course of the nineteenth century.” This saturated motherly love, in turn, lays the groundwork for independent and feminist daughters.

From Greta Gerwig’s interpretation, Jo goes on her famously feminist rant to Marmee, saying “Women, they have minds and they have souls, as well as just hearts. They’ve got ambition, and they’ve got talent, just as well as beauty. And I’m so sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for. I’m so sick of it. But I’m so lonely” (Gerwig). Saoirse Ronan performs this line to Laura Dern in the family’s attic, tears forming in her eyes as she talks passionately, gesturing heartily her hands. Laura Dern does not turn her down but instead listens as her daughter freely airs her frustration with domestic stereotypes, without fear of repercussion. This is an environment Marmee fosters for her daughters.

There are feminist elements in each sister’s life story. As Jill May reflects in “Feminism and Children’s Literature: Fitting Little Women into the American Literary Canon,” “each girl is part of a subplot that reveals a personal story. None of the stories is typical; these girls look beyond the values of their contemporary society” (21). In Little Women 1949, we rarely get to see Meg March’s story developed as anything beyond the male gaze for her affections. Meg is described as the most beautiful sister in the novel, and this is not a detail missed in the film adaptation. However, LeRoy’s version falls flat with this portrayal, featuring the beautiful Mary Astor as Meg. Immediately in the film, John Brooke (Richard Stapley) and Laurie Laurence (Peter Lawford) are introduced as romantic interests of leads, Meg and Jo (June Allyson). The only difference is that June Allyson does not notice. Mary Astor remarks after meeting the pair, “I don’t like the way that man stared at me.” June Allyson turns in surprise, saying, “What man, Oh Mr. Brooke? I didn’t notice.” Mary Astor chirps, “Well I did!” (LeRoy). Instead of introducing the men next door in a platonic sense, LeRoy immediately inserts the pair as romantically interested in the women, and in turn, revolves most of Meg’s interactions in the film to be ones about interacting with Mr. Brooke. Instead, in the 2019 version, Gerwig shows Meg (Emma Watson) in her younger years as depicted to be interested in acting and enjoying producing homemade plays alongside her sisters. Viewers get the chance to see laughing, dynamic, and spirited Meg before she becomes interested in growing up. Of course, this is not to assert that feminism denies Meg her right to marriage and motherhood. It is more about the featuring of Meg’s story before she obtains these roles, and showing her interests creates a natural flow, and is in keeping with Alcott’s sense of the novel.

Both film versions of Little Women do something similar in regard to Beth’s characterization. In the 1949 version, Margaret O’Brien plays young Beth, and in the 2019 version, Beth is Eliza Scanlen. Most of Beth’s screen time is about her sickness and grappling with scarlet fever. There are several scenes in which Beth has joyful times with Mr. Laurence, and speaks about the piano. Specifically in the 2019 version, there are director-added scenes at the beach between Beth and Jo. These scenes act as plot devices, as Beth’s sickness inspires Jo to write the story of the girls. However, it almost feels as if Beth deserves more screen time growing as a girl like the rest, although her time is much shorter than her three sisters due to scarlet fever and heart failure. We never see her gentleness with animals and children in either version quite as it is described in Alcott’s novel. Although we see her receiving a piano from Mr. Laurence in both versions, viewers lose a sense of Beth as a person. In LeRoy’s version, it is “My Beth,” inspired in both films by Beth and her passing. In Gerwig’s version, Jo’s eventual book is called, “Little Women.” Both films show Jo’s story as a bound and published novel, focused on her sister’s memory.

Amy is the painter of the sisters and overcomes her selfishness as she grows into a young woman. Her passion for painting is not shown in the 1949 adaptation, starring beautiful Elizabeth Taylor. Taylor upholds some of Amy’s other traits, such as her temper and growth into gracefulness as a young lady, but does not display her knack for painting, as described by Alcott, especially in Amy’s time in Europe with Aunt March. Meanwhile, in the 2019 adaptation, Amy’s painting is highlighted greatly in the entire second portion of the film and is the main reason for her to travel to Europe with Aunt March. In the 2019 version, (Amy) Florence Pugh makes her famous feminist speech to (Laurie) Timothée Chalamet about the marriage she is pursuing, saying, “Even if I had my own money, which I don’t, it would belong to my husband the minute we were married. If we had children they would belong to him, not me. They would be his property. So don’t sit there and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is” (Gerwig). This scene adds layers to the Amy and Laurie relationship that viewers just do not see in the 1949 adaptation, as the focus is more on Jo turning down Laurie. Because of the Europe scenes, viewers witness firsthand the couple coming together and forming a mutual understanding of one another, while the 1949 version just ends with them coming home married without any insight into how it developed. This insight is important, as the couples’ relationship holds an emphasis on mutual appreciation of art and creating, centering their relationship on an even ground of mutual respect, which makes them a great match instead of Jo and Laurie. As May says about the sisters, “These women do not choose to forsake their artistic plans when they marry, but they alter their purposes and their “training” to fit within the family circle (22). This is also true in the case of the final sister, Jo March.

As the headstrong main character of Little Women, Jo operates as a great feminist icon in the most overt ways. “In terms of her plot function within the novel, she is an active protagonist and her “boyishness” genders her as masculine” (McCallum 88). Jo completely shirks gender roles, saying that she “can’t get over her disappointment in not being a boy” (Alcott 5). She learns to deal with her anger from Marmee, but is consistently pointed out for acting like a gender-stereotyped young boy. Her sisters even reprimand her on occasion, begging Jo to settle down and not behave so wildly. This is seen no less in the movie adaptations as well. However, in LeRoy’s film, “June Allyson’s Jo, in the 1949 film, is constantly made to look silly and clumsy; she frequently falls flat on her face when she tries to jump fences, becoming the object of humor, and her efforts at financial independence are belittled” (McCallum 86). Meanwhile, men, such as Laurie are depicted as “the socially desirable man of the 1940s” (McCallum 86).

This seems to be a product of the time the movie was made, as becoming a proper woman was the goal for young girls. Jo almost becomes a success story in the limits of the 1949 version, even asking Professor Bhaer if she can mend the button on his coat when she meets him. In the 2019 version, Saoirse Ronan is still wild and free in her depictions of Jo, but the difference is she is not picked on by other women because of it. It is her strength, even, and the girls are shown playing games and activities together, centered by Jo and Laurie and their excited minds.

One of the biggest debates of Little Women as a story is whether or not Jo’s ending is actually feminist in nature. Jo throughout the book relates that she does not wish to marry but to write. “Jo not only transgresses social conventions but also draws attention to the regulatory function of patriarchal ideology in relation to female desire” (McCallum 90). In the Leroy film, when Jo turns down Laurie, her likely counterpart until that point, she says, “I wanted to save you this, Laurie,” and, “Oh, Laurie, I wouldn’t change you” (LeRoy) The two sit together closely in the woods, as Laurie follows her out of Meg’s wedding. He crawls close to her, almost kissing her. When Laurie is turned down by Jo, he yells that he will have to watch her love someone else one day, shouting, “I’ll be hanged if I do” (LeRoy). In the Gerwig version, Laurie and Jo are walking, and come to a point where the pair are overlooking their city on a large hill. It is beautiful and glorious, and the two almost seem to be symbolically reflecting on their younger selves, as they can see the entire town. When Jo turns Laurie down, there is a real pain in Timothée Chalamet’s eyes, and he says, “I think you’ll find someone and love them and you will live and die for them because that’s your way and you will. And I’ll watch” (Gerwig).

Viewers can appreciate the feminism in Alcott’s story through the eyes of the men she writes as well. Laurie is correct in his last remark because his writer friend does become wed at the end of Little Women. It is supposed that Alcott received intense pressure from readers when she wrote the novel. In Elise Barker’s “Alcott’s “Funny Match” for Jo,” it is deduced that because of some of that pressure, “Alcott sacrificed her vision of Jo and compromised, giving Jo “somebody,” Professor Fredrich Bhaer, to marry” (Barker 190). Bhaer is played by handsome Rossano Brazzi in the 1949 film adaptation and does not appear particularly older than June Allyson. He is interested in Jo from the start, takes her with him to operas, and encourages her writing. In the 1949 version, the love between Bhaer and Jo is simple and expected. When he comes to meet her at her family home, their love has built, as Jo actually seems interested in him. He is not moving away at the end of this version like he is in the novel. Similarly, Louis Garrel makes a Fredrick not hard on the eyes in the 2019 version, far from the “asexual German professor” described by McCallum (87). McCallum argues that “cinematic techniques used to position the audience and to construct the gaze of the camera are gender specific and have a determining role in the production of images of feminity and masculinity” (McCallum 88). Jo’s whole choice of Bhaer feels unnatural to some readers, and this could be due to the fact that Alcott felt pressured to marry Jo off to a kind and disarming man. There is little built in comparison with her relationship with Laurie, which is playful and intense throughout the story. Gerwig adds a scene at the publishing office to the ending of her film, a nice nod to Alcott herself. Jo symbolizes the role of Alcott, almost, in a scene where Saoirse Ronan argues with her editor whether or not the heroine will be married at the end. The editor is insistent on it, and after some arguing back and forth, it gets included (Gerwig).

Jo marrying can be a feminist notion, but she also decides to give up writing, as Alcott says, “she enjoyed it heartily and found the applause of her boys more satisfying than any praise of the world, for now she told no stories except to her flock of enthusiastic believers and admirers” (Alcott 445). This seems to go against Jo’s very nature. Daly-Galeano states, “when we go to the movies, it becomes clear that modern audiences are especially troubled by Jo’s movement away from writing” (119). This is true, as Jo has published a novel at the end of each movie adaptation. Often, Little Women is criticized not for its marriage of Jo to someone, but for the fact that Jo seems to give up writing when she marries. It does seem troublesome that the two cannot coexist, but is this what Alcott meant by this? Daly-Galeano deduces that “Alcott offers Bhaer to readers in symbolic terms. He represents an author, a reader, and a text to be read” (122). The work that the couple does together is to write their own stories and raise boys in Jo’s inherited schoolhouse, but is this enough? Greta Gerwig opts to never show an official marriage scene between Jo and Bhaer but instead features everyone at the schoolhouse: Amy painting, Meg acting, Jo writing, and Marmee’s birthday party, taking place as it does at the end of the novel. By interpreting a more open ending after the success of her novel, Jo is never written into giving up writing. This small detail does much to modernize the work of Alcott, but also, to keep Jo as consistent as she has remained throughout the novel.

Film adaptations of novels can teach us much about literary works and deepen our understanding of what a story is trying to tell us. Often film adaptations tend to soak up the values of the time they are produced in, no matter the time period the original work comes from. This, in itself, is not necessarily a bad thing, as it just gives us another sociological lens by which to interpret humanity. Although Little Women was written in the nineteenth century, there are so many redeeming parts to a classic story, which in itself speaks the feminist voice of Louisa May Alcott. The work only becomes better with age and modernized with the new feminist lenses utilized in each adaptation.