I am not a man using this article as an excuse to bash women. I am a woman who hates this book and stands by the fact that people who enjoy it have been brainwashed and deceived. If you adore the book or got too emotionally involved with the Greta Gerwig adaptation, please read with caution.
Louisa May Alcott did not care about this book at all compared to its reception now. Her publisher, Thomas Niles, pressed Alcott to write a “girl’s book” to appease a new reading demographic. Alcott said no. Then Niles got her father involved and she reluctantly spun out a generic “yay girls!” book. Just like that, the masses were fooled.
“Father saw Mr. Niles about a fairy book. Mr. N. wants a girls’ story, and I begin ‘Little Women.’ Marmee, Anna, and May all approve of my plan. So I plod away, though I don’t enjoy this sort of thing. Never liked girls or knew many,” according to Lousia May Alcott’s Journal entry, May 1868.
That is how the book felt for me reading it as a child and revisiting it now, at 20 years old— passionless. It was written to sell well, to appease men trying to appease girls, and while I respect the nostalgia others have about this book, I think Alcott’s journal entry speaks for itself. I can already hear every major dissenting point people can make to those who dislike “Little Women”. So, let’s break them down.
The biggest pro I see for “Little Women” is that it was ahead of its time, a piece of feminist literature. I argue that people who think that either haven’t looked too closely at the book or are simply getting on a Saoirse Ronan-frenzied bandwagon. Jo is a starkly independent woman, individualistic in her personality and a figure of adoration for little girls reading Alcott’s work. For a lot of the book, this is true. Jo defends her dreams and works to become an author. But what happens in the second part of the book? She moves away, meets an older man, burns her stories and settles down. More than that, Jo is supposed to be this feminist figure fighting for women’s education and dreams – but works at an ONLY BOYS school with her husband.
Frankly, I think Alcott’s writing in “Little Women” is so unbelievably preachy. All of the sisters are essentially chasing Christian values —not embracing progressive views like some argue. Mrs. March continuously talks about this Christian book, “The Pilgrim’s Progress,” overtly telling the children to follow these examples through self sacrifice. Marmee helps the Hummel family using the classic religious phrases that feel like elitism of the March family. Meg leads the sisters in reading the Bible every day. The reader is lured into the “goodness” of these girls, mimicking feminism but projecting religion. I have no issue with Christianity or biblical persuasion in books, but this feels like it is doing nothing more than pandering to an audience of the time to sell the book better. Alcott was not even religious! It was to make money.
“Don’t laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragical romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under sober gowns … they have missed the sweetest part of life,” said Lousia May Alcott.
Let’s talk about the portrayal of marriage in this book. The sisters push the notion that a woman’s place in the world is within matrimony. Jo marries the older man and quits writing. Amy marries Laurie and lives traditionally, thus happily. Meg desires a higher social status (which is written as a “bad” ambition compared to Jo’s “good” ambition of fame through writing) and lives a “sinful” life with her husband because she still has ambition on top of her marriage. The fourth sister, Beth, dies as a spinster after saying this line:
“I’m not like the rest of you. I never made any plans about what I’d do when I grew up. I never thought of being married, as you all did.”
An old spinster does not fit into the value set here, so she must die young. It is frustrating how this book has become such a “feminist masterpiece”. It is wrapped in a bow of women’s empowerment but the only message it actually pushes is Christian values for women.
The worst part of this book is its mundanity. It is boring. Every sentence lingers with filler words and inedible proverbs. Some people like the “flowery” language, but this is just fistfuls of food without seasoning. It is bland, long and served without love. I have read all 1,400 pages of “War and Peace” and it does not hold a candle to the literary crucible that “Little Women” is.
