The first time I tried to read “Little Women” as a preteen, I was bored out of my mind. I HATED the premise. Four girls going through life, living their girly lives with their girly hobbies and their girly love lives? Not for me. Until I was eighteen, I was an avid hater of girlhood. I didn’t like pink. I didn’t like hanging out with girls, so all my friends were guys. I didn’t wear any makeup, and I judged any girl who did. I always kept my hair in a ponytail until I chopped it all off. I dressed as masculine as possible, hoping that people would see me before they saw a woman. However, senior year of high school changed things for me. I’m not really sure what it was. I started accepting my identity as a girl. I grew my hair out, I started learning how to do makeup, and I let myself enjoy “girly” things. “Little Women” is my most recent quest to accept womanhood, especially as I approach 20 (turning eighteen was no problem, but twenty? That seems wrong).
I won’t lie: the beginning of this book was slow. Every character had a distinct name and personality, but keeping up with the four sisters and their mother proved difficult. They bled together in my mind. Once I got over that initial struggle, I realized just how wonderful this story is. As I kept reading, I found that I couldn’t put it down. I read the entire first half of the novel in a single sitting. Unfortunately, I remembered I had a lecture I had to attend, so I couldn’t read the second half. I’m sure I could have, though! Alcott does an amazing job at sucking her audience in. Suddenly, the characters’ troubles become your troubles. You feel their pain, their happiness, their excitement, and their sorrow. When their father falls ill, you feel as if your own father has suddenly fallen ill, and you have no idea whether he will make it or not. When Beth passes, you feel the sorrow as if she was your own sister. All of the emotions in “Little Women” are raw and honest, which sucks the reader in even further.
Before I started this book, I thought I would resonate with Jo the most. A spunky, fiery young woman, she marched to the beat of her own drum and lived life on her terms. She rejected most ideas of then-modern femininity, and she wanted a career of her own as a writer. Her friendship with Laurie reminded me a lot of my own friendships with men: impulsive, silly, and an ignorance for gendered expectations. However, this wasn’t the case as I kept going. I found myself relating to Meg a lot more. Meg was the oldest, and she dreamed of a life of wealth and grandeur. In the second half of the story, she settles down and understands what truly makes her happy. It is not money, titles, or land, but love. She ends up content as a mother with two children, and she seems incredibly happy in her simple life. Jo also ends up married, but not to her beloved Laurie. Laurie does propose, but it’s heartbreaking. For Laurie to propose to Jo, after she believes he truly sees her as a person and not just a woman? It’s one of my worst fears for sure, and I’m sure any woman with a guy best friend can agree.
As I kept reading, though, I found myself resonating with each of them. Meg, with her sense of responsibility and love for her family. Jo, independent and rebellious. Beth, the most gentle and selfless sister. Amy, an artistic child who matures into a graceful woman. All of these women are made to represent us. I firmly believe that every woman, no matter her personality or interests, will find something that strikes their heart throughout this novel. It is a little juvenile at points, but that doesn’t really matter. Alcott’s understanding of the female experience is thorough, and she sums it up beautifully in “Little Women.” The most impressive part of Alcott’s depiction of girlhood is its standing throughout history. “Little Women” is still a strong piece of literature, and the characters represent the many versions of girlhood today. The fact that Alcott was able to summarize the female experience into a novel that would make girls feel seen today is extremely impressive. Throughout the women’s suffrage movement, to the feminist wave beginning in the 1970s, to the #MeToo movement, to now, “Little Women” has stood the test of time and remained a staple in any young woman’s library.
Sure, “Little Women” doesn’t have a particularly engaging plot line. There aren’t any fantastical creatures, steamy romances, or intense fight scenes. But it has something for everyone. For me? I learned that it’s okay to be a woman. Not just a girl, but a woman. It’s okay to grow up and start thinking about marriage. It’s okay to want to be a mother someday, just as it’s okay to want a career instead of children. I think the most important lesson I learned from this book is that it’s okay to do both. For so long, I thought I had to choose between being a lawyer or being a wife and mother, and that there was only one option. I wanted to be seen as credible and strong. I wanted people to look at me and see a strong, independent woman. And to do this, I thought I had to hide my femininity. I thought that simply being a woman would make others look down on me or treat me unequally. Of course, these are still issues today, but not to the caliber I believed. “Little Women” helped me realize that I can be a strong, independent mother. I can be a soft-hearted lawyer. Or, even better, I can do both. Who knew four women in the 1800s could end up being so powerful?