The Life of a Story: How Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women” is Re-Invented Through Film Adaptation
Little Women, the 1869 novel by Louisa May Alcott, is one of the defining texts in the American literary canon (May, 19). A story that touched the hearts of 19th-century readers when it was first published, Little Women has continued to find relevance and popularity well into the 21st century through the practice of adaptation. At the time of writing this, Little Women has been the focus of six feature films, eleven television programs, and four stage productions (two Broadway plays, a ballet, and an opera). Little Women is a story that has been adapted time and time again, and yet it seems like there are always more adaptations to come. In his review of Greta Gerwig’s Little Women, the most recent Little Women film adaptation, the film critic Justin Chang asked, “did we really need another go-round with the March sisters?” (Chang). Such a review brings into question how a story that has been re-created so many times remains interesting. How do adapters turn Alcott’s Little Women into their own story and keep audiences coming back for more? This thesis will explore two of Little Women’s feature film adaptations, the 1994 film directed by Gillian Armstrong and the 2019 film directed by Greta Gerwig. In analyzing these films, my aim is to answer the following question: how do Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s film adaptations provide new interpretations of Little Women through their portrayals of growing up, marriage and women’s rights?
Relevance
Researchers have taken many approaches to analyzing Alcott’s Little Women. The most common approach to analyzing the novel is from the realms of feminist and queer studies. For instance, Renee C. Hoogland’s “The Arena of Sexuality: The Tomboy and Queer Studies” investigates the ways that Jo, the novel’s unofficial protagonist, is interpreted as queer. Beyond feminist and queer studies, Little Women has also been evaluated as a work of classic American fiction, in papers such as Jill P. May’s “Feminism and Children’s Literature: Fitting Little Women into the American Literary Canon”. Alongside evaluations of the story itself, there has also been research into legacy and the larger societal effects of the novel. A notable example of this is Anne Boyd Rioux’s Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy: The Story of Little Women, a book that will inform much of the first chapter of this thesis. While Alcott’s novel has been approached and analyzed in a variety of ways, the same cannot be said of the novel’s many adaptations. In this thesis, I will address and hopefully fill various knowledge gaps surrounding Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s film adaptations.
In the nearly 30 years since its release, Armstrong’s Little Women has been the subject of some analysis. However, a majority of the research surrounding Armstrong’s adaptation focuses on her feminist approach to the story, as encapsulated in Karen Hollinger and Teresa Winterhalter’s “A Feminist Romance: Adapting Little Women to the Screen” and Elise Hooper’s “Girl Power: A Look at Recent Little Women Adaptations”. Additionally, Deborah Cartmell and Judy Simons’ “Screening Authorship: Little Women on Screen 1933-1994” explores Armstrong’s adaptation in comparison to earlier Little Women films, with a focus on how this adaptation fits into patriarchal structures in Hollywood. While existing research evaluates Armstrong’s adaptation as a feminist film, for a story about four girls growing up, there is surprising lack of research into Armstrong’s adaptation as a coming-of-age film. Taking all of this into consideration, I hope to synthesize existing research about feminist themes in Armstrong’s film, as well as evaluate the portrayal of growing up in order to address the knowledge gap surrounding Armstrong’s Little Women as a coming-of-age story.
Gerwig’s Little Women premiered in 2019, and in the short time since the film’s release, it has not been the focus of scholarly research beyond bachelor’s and master’s theses. Therefore, in this thesis I hope to address the large knowledge gap surrounding Gerwig’s adaptation by analyzing its construction as a feminist coming-of-age film, focusing on the themes of growing up, marriage and women’s rights.
Through addressing the knowledge gaps surrounding Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s films, I will also contribute to discourse surrounding the larger practice of adaptation. As will be explained in greater detail in Chapter Two, there is much criticism surrounding film adaptation regarding its ability to convey temporality and complexity. Throughout this thesis, I will use the theories of Linda Hutcheon, as presented in her book A Theory of Adaptation, to evaluate how filmmakers navigate the drawbacks and opportunities provided by their medium in order to convey narrative complexity and the passing of time (as encompassed in the themes of growing up, marriage and women’s rights).
Ultimately, this thesis hopes to explore the ways that film adaptations can re-invent a story, to answer the question of how and to what extent even the most well-known stories can be re-imagined and turned into something brand-new.
Thesis Overview
The first chapter of this thesis will be a brief background of the novel and its initial reception. This section will include a plot summary, an overview of the social context of the novel, and an introduction of Little Women’s key characters and themes.
In the second chapter, I will provide a short analysis of theories surrounding film adaptation, primarily the work of Linda Hutcheon. This analysis will touch upon the benefits and drawbacks of film adaptation, and the specific frameworks and tools that I will be utilizing in my analysis of Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s films.
My analysis of the two adaptations begins in the third chapter, which centers on the theme of growing up. This chapter will contrast the adapters’ approaches to chronology and the subsequent effect it has on portraying growing up. Specifically, I will analyze the difference between Armstrong’s film, which portrays growing up as a linear journey, and Gerwig’s film, which portrays growing up as a cumulative process of self-reflection.
The fourth chapter is an analysis of the theme of marriage. Armstrong and Gerwig both expose and challenge the notion of marriage as a necessity or societal expectation for women. I will be analyzing how the adapters take different approaches to sending the same message, with Armstrong’s focus on the societal aspect of marriage, and Gerwig’s focus on the economic implications of marriage.
Chapter Five will be an analysis of the third major theme in focus: women’s rights. I will explain how both Armstrong and Gerwig utilize the outspoken March women as proponents for women’s rights and gender equality. However, the adapters differ in their choice of which characters will fill the role of the outspoken feminist. I will analyze how the chosen characters (Marmee, Beth, Jo, and Amy) are used to imbue the story with feminist messaging. Lastly, following this final chapter, I will summarize and provide my closing thoughts in the conclusion.
CHAPTER ONE: THE NOVEL AND ITS RECEPTION
Even though Little Women is a beloved story about the female experience, Louisa May Alcott wasn’t very excited at the prospect of writing a novel about women. When her publisher, Thomas Niles, approached her with the idea of writing a “girl’s book”, she insisted that she cared for and knew very little about girls, beyond herself and her sisters (Rioux, 1). Nevertheless, she set about to write a novel at Niles’ recommendation, and what came from that in 1868 was the first part of what would be her most famous novel, titled Little Women or Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy. The second part, titled Good Wives, was released just a few months later in 1869. Eventually, the two parts were combined into one novel, known together today as Little Women.
Little Women is centered on the adventures of the four March sisters – Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy – as they navigate through childhood and into adulthood. Throughout the novel, the different personalities of the four sisters are explored, as they pursue different paths in life and take on different feminine roles in society. Written in a third-person point of view, the novel often switches its focalization, with generally each chapter bringing a different character into focus. Throughout the novel’s shifting focalization, the character that is explored most often is Jo. Therefore, many readers consider Jo to be the protagonist of the novel.
Little Women deals with many themes, all of which connect back to what Alcott believes it means to be a woman. Over time, the novel has been commonly analyzed as a feminist text, due to the way that Alcott writes characters who aspire to lead lives that don’t fit in the conventional life of a middle-class 19th-century woman. One of the most prominent themes Alcott explores is marriage, illustrated through the sisters’ different approaches to the topic (Meg and Amy are eager to marry, while Jo and Beth are not). Alongside marriage there is the prominent theme of family. Alcott continually discusses the importance of family and familial duty, which often connects back to the idea of women’s roles as mothers and wives. The novel discusses many more themes – such as poverty, morals, sacrifice, and the experience of growing up – all of which come together to encapsulate a relatable, ordinary life in Massachusetts of the 1860s.
The novel was received with open arms when the first part was published in 1868. Reviews of the novel were full of praise, describing the novel as a “charming picture of the first act of an interesting domestic drama” and “a vivacious story… full of beautiful thoughts, expressed in beautiful words” (Young). Alcott left readers in suspense with her concluding line of the first volume, which resembles a call to action; “So the curtain falls upon Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. Whether it ever rises again, depends upon the reception given the first act of the domestic drama called Little Women” (Alcott 2019, 266). By the time the second volume was published in January 1869, over 55,000 copies of the first half had been sold (Rioux, 73).
Little Women exhibited a new way of writing about women, a factor that may explain the novel’s initial and continued popularity. There was a revolutionary feeling in the way that Little Women addressed women – the novel spoke directly to female readers without “correcting or admonishing them” (Rioux, 69). Alcott’s novel strays away from trying to define the proper ways for women to act, instead embracing the fact that some women desire a certain deviation from societal norms. Hoogland suggests that the great success of Little Women implies that leading a “traditional woman’s life” was not an enticing idea for many young female readers, both in the time the novel was published and now (103). And even though the novel is set in the 1860s, it has been argued that it offers a “realistic perspective on what it means to be a female adolescent” (Hooper, 420) to this day.
While Little Women’s relatable themes and plot help to explain why the novel remains popular amongst readers, adaptation is also a significant mechanism behind the story’s continual success and relevance continuing into the 21st century. Little Women’s perspective on the female experience continues to interest and inspire adaptors, leading to the various television, film, and stage adaptations we see today (Hooper, 420). This paper will focus specifically on two film adaptations of Little Women – Gillian Armstrong’s 1994 film and Greta Gerwig’s 2019 film – to explain how Alcott’s story is re-imagined and made into a relevant tale for audiences over 150 years after the novel’s release. However, before these films can be analyzed, it is useful to briefly explore some theory behind film adaptation, and the various techniques filmmakers use to bring life to and re-invent even the most well-known stories.
CHAPTER TWO: FILM ADAPTATION THEORY
In the following chapter, I will delve into a brief introduction to film adaptation theory, based on the work of Linda Hutcheon, Brian McFarlane, and Timothy Corrigan, to explain why I am looking at Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s Little Women adaptations as re-inventive works. I will also introduce the specific frameworks and tools used by Armstrong and Gerwig to adapt Little Women, which will then be discussed in further detail in Chapters 3, 4 and 5.
Linda Hutcheon’s A Theory of Adaptation offers many valuable insights into the practice of adapting a novel into a film. Hutcheon defines adaptation as a practice of “(re-)interpretation and (re-)creation” (8), wherein the adapter can take a text – whether it be unknown or beloved – and make it their own. In this thesis, I argue that directors Gillian Armstrong and Greta Gerwig embrace this re-interpretation and re-creation, using their respective adaptations to transform a text about traditional 19th-century life and morals into complex stories surrounding the themes of growing up, marriage and women’s rights.
One of the greatest challenges that comes with film adaptation is what Hutcheon refers to as “fidelity criticism” (6) – the tendency to judge the value of a film based on its proximity to the original text. Adaptations often must condense the story, reducing it not only in size but also in complexity and direct accuracy to the text (Hutcheon, 36). McFarlane takes this concept further by suggesting that additional critiques come from the struggle to “suppress a sort of yearning for a faithful rendering of one’s own vision of the literary text” (15). We all have a unique image of a story in our head, so it’s only natural that we may feel disappointed when a film inevitably cannot recreate that exact image. Corrigan expands upon Hutcheon’s and McFarlane’s theories, explaining that, to avoid such critiques, adapters must find a balance between adaptation and discipline (30). This is what Armstrong and Gerwig do in their respective films, as they stay true to Alcott’s original story while also re-imagining certain themes to create a new take on the beloved story of the March sisters.
Another common criticism of film adaptation is the fact that film is limited due to its reliance on visuality – a film can only show, whereas a novel can tell. Hutcheon condenses the discourse surrounding the difference between showing and telling into four clichés. In this thesis, I will often refer to Hutcheon’s third cliché, which focuses on the portrayal of time:
“Cliche #3: The showing and interacting modes have only one tense: the present; the mode of telling alone can show relationships among past, present and future.” (Hutcheon, 63).
While this cliché may suggest the inferiority of film as a storytelling medium, there are many aspects of film that make it an effective medium. For example, Hutcheon praises film’s multitrack capabilities, which are cinematic tools such as music, focal length, camera angle, costumes, the arrangement of a scene (mise-en-scène), etc. (Hutcheon, 55). Film’s existence as a multitrack medium allows it to “direct and expand the possibilities of perception” (Hutcheon, 42-43). Therefore, while films may be limited to showing, there is much that can be achieved in this visual process that could not be attained merely through the written word.
Additionally, film is a much more accessible medium for audiences, especially compared to 19th-century prose such as Little Women (Hooper, 422). Furthermore, adaptations are often deemed “educationally important” (Hutcheon, 118), as they can inspire audiences – particularly younger viewers – to read the book upon which the adaptation is based. This is particularly relevant when considering Little Women, seeing as it is a novel largely about the experience of growing up, a theme which younger audiences may find entertaining or comforting. Adaptation is also a very powerful tool that allows filmmakers to “engage in a larger social or cultural critique” (Hutcheon, 94). This is exactly what Armstrong and Gerwig do with their adaptations of Little Women, as they re-imagine the core themes of marriage, women’s rights, and growing up in order to make the story’s many social critiques more explicit.
In the following analysis of the 1994 and 2019 Little Women film adaptations, I will be focusing on the films’ constructions of three themes – growing up, marriage, and women’s rights – through various cinematic tools. This first includes chronology, specifically the divide between “story time” and “narrative time” (Morris, 106) – this is important to discuss because Gerwig and Armstrong pursue different chronologies in their adaptations. Another tool that will be analyzed is characterization, in reference to how Little Women’s characters are constructed in different ways across the novel and the two films. This thesis will also address film color grading, camera angle/movement, casting and voiceover as tools contributing to narrative style and plot construction. Ultimately, the following three chapters will explore the three identified themes in both adaptations, to understand how Armstrong and Gerwig each re-invent Louisa May Alcott’s story in unique ways and present a well-known story in a brand-new light.
CHAPTER THREE: GROWING UP
Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s adaptations of Little Women are both categorized as coming-of-age films, due to their focus on the theme of growing up. Coming-of-age films have been prominent in Hollywood ever since the popularization of the genre in the 1980s, with films such as The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (Holderbraum). Such films center on a character or multiple characters on a “journey of self-discovery” wherein they experience “a growth into some form of mature awareness” (Fox, 5). As in the novel, both the 1994 and 2019 Little Women adaptations follow Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy as they proceed through childhood into adulthood, growing into mature women along the way.
As established by Hutcheon in her third cliché of adaptation, a great challenge in film is “how to represent or thematize the unfolding of time” (66). However, this passing of time is an important part of growing up. Armstrong and Gerwig take on this challenge of portraying temporality as they strive to depict the theme of growing up through two different approaches. Armstrong replicates the linear storytelling of Alcott’s novel, showing the chronological journey of the March sisters from childhood to adulthood. Alternatively, Gerwig pursues a non-chronological approach to her adaptation, exploring the liminal state of growing up by showing the March sisters’ adult lives interspersed with childhood flashbacks.
In this section, I will analyze the construction and effects of these different portrayals of growing up. The linear approach of Armstrong’s Little Women, highlighting motifs of family and comfort, will be contrasted with Gerwig’s adulthood-oriented film, which I argue establishes a sense of characters’ individuality. This comparison will look at color-grading, voiceover, casting and flashbacks as tools that allow Gerwig and Armstrong to craft their distinctive narratives. Furthermore, I will analyze the ways that the adapters portray the relationship between childhood and adulthood, with Armstrong’s film showing them as two separate realms of life, and Gerwig’s film suggesting that they are inextricably linked. Ultimately, through this analysis, I will shed light on how both adapters approach “represent[ing] and themetiz[ing] the unfolding of time” (Hutcheon, 66) and re-invent the theme of growing up in their coming-of-age adaptations.
Growing Up as a Linear Journey: Armstrong’s Film
Gillian Armstrong’s Little Women constructs the theme of growing up through a linear narrative, following the story of the March sisters chronologically as they pass through childhood and into adulthood. The film opens in the same way as the novel, with the scene of the March sisters and Marmee reading a letter from Mr. March on Christmas Eve (Armstrong, 1:57). This opening scene situates the beginning of the film within the March’s childhood. The film then continues chronologically, ending with Jo and Professor Bhaer getting engaged (Armstrong, 1:54:47). Through re-enacting Alcott’s chronological storyline, Armstrong’s film suggests that growing up is a straightforward, linear journey between childhood as the starting point and adulthood as the end.
Armstrong’s film exhibits a clear distinction between the phases of childhood and adulthood, similar to Alcott’s novel wherein the four year time jump between what was originally the first volume (Little Women) and second volume (Good Wives) is seen as a defining shift between childhood and adulthood. This jump, skipping over the “liminal state” (Hardcastle et al., 4) of adolescence, is represented in Armstrong’s film through text, as she places the words “Four Years Later” at the bottom of the screen during a compilation of nature shots overlaid with whimsical, orchestral music (Armstrong, 1:03:00). This multitrack transition sequence – utilizing image, text and sound – creates a boundary between the March’s childhood and adulthood, and “manipulates time and space relations” (Hutcheon, 65) to lead viewers into the second half of the story, beginning with Meg’s wedding. Armstrong presents the wedding scene with a shot of the March sisters and their guests singing and dancing. One quickly notices that a new actress, the older Samantha Mathis, has taken the place of the young Kirsten Dunst in portraying Amy. The sudden appearance of a new and unfamiliar face, amidst the rest of the actors who remain unchanged, is jarring and draws attention to the fact that there has been a significant shift in time. It can be argued here that Armstrong is using Hutcheon’s third cliché of adaptation to her advantage – her attempt to represent the passing of time breaks the illusion of the film and draws attention to the very fact that a change has occurred. In presenting two entirely different portrayals of the same character – a child Amy and an adult Amy – Armstrong makes it clear that childhood and adulthood are two different realms, and the characters have effectively passed from one period into the other.
Armstrong continues to portray the journey between childhood and adulthood through voiceover. After turning down Laurie’s proposal, Jo moves to New York City, an action Armstrong pairs with Jo’s voiceover narration, explaining “Marmee helped me find a place in the great city of New York. And so I stepped over the divide between childhood and all that lay beyond” (Armstrong, 1:11;17). Through this voiceover, Armstrong frames the act of leaving home as a shift between childhood and adulthood, once again emphasizing that these are two separate periods of life that one must travel through.
While Armstrong constructs childhood and adulthood as separate realms, she utilizes the multitrack capabilities of film, namely color grading, to suggest that these two phases of life do connect in some way. In the film’s opening scene, where Marmee reads Mr. March’s letter to her daughters, the coloring is dominated by warm tones – soft reds and oranges – evoking a sense of comfort and fondness (Matbouly, 371) characteristic of the March’s childhood.
Figure 1: Marmee reading Mr. March’s letter to Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy (Armstrong, 4:32)
This same color grading continues throughout the film, even into the second half when the sisters have entered into adulthood. Armstrong’s choice to maintain the same color grading throughout the film establishes a constant sense of familiarity and continuity which we can draw back to the joyful scenes of Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy as children. Through color grading, Armstrong suggests that, while these are two different parts of one’s life, childhood has a subtle, underlying presence in adult life. Even though she is enacting coming-of-age as a gradual, linear journey from one stage of life to the next, Armstrong’s stylistic callback to childhood as a stage of growing up proposes that one’s childhood is of particular significance throughout the journey. This is particularly interesting to note, especially when considered in contrast to Gerwig’s film, which approaches growing up by blurring the lines between childhood and adulthood even further.
Growing Up as a Process of Self-Reflection: Gerwig’s Film
Greta Gerwig is the first director to create a non-chronological film adaptation of Little Women, portraying the theme of growing up through a main narrative centered on adulthood, interjected with flashback scenes where childhood memories are shown to give context or emphasis. According to the film critic A. O. Scott, “the specific magic of the medium […] becomes a tool of philosophical and emotional enquiry”, allowing for Gerwig to effectively navigate “the mystery of time” (Scott). Hutcheon identifies flashbacks as an effective tool to portray the passing of time in film, as their “immediacy can make the shifts [in time] potentially more effective than in prose fiction where the narrating voice stands between the characters immersed in time and the reader” (63). Gerwig’s chronology and use of flashbacks establishes adulthood as the primary focus of the film, with childhood as a secondary, although crucial, contextualizing narrative. In regard to the chronology of this film, it’s important to consider the distinction between “story time” and “narrative time”, as explained by Pam Morris. Story time is the “chronological chain of events upon which the actual story or written narrative is based”, whereas narrative time is the way that a writer – or in this case, an adapter – handles and distorts that chronology (Morris, 106). While Morris explains these terms in regards to literature, I believe they are equally as relevant here. As we can see in this film, Gerwig is not altering Alcott’s original story time, but she is, instead, re-imagining the narrative time.
The first four scenes of the film highlight each of the sisters in their individual endeavors in adulthood – Jo is in New York trying to publish a story (Gerwig, 1:11), Amy is in Paris pursuing an art career (Gerwig, 6:06), Meg is shopping for fabric and taking care of her children (Gerwig, 8:39), and Beth is playing piano in the March home (Gerwig, 9:40). These four opening scenes, showing the sisters later in life, not only situate Gerwig’s adaptation within the realm of adulthood, but they also establish a sense of individuality for each character, a typical characteristic of coming-of-age films (Hardcastle et al., 4). Rather than being introduced to the characters as a collective, we first meet them as independent women. They are not the March sisters, they are Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. This film’s opening contrasts with Armstrong’s opening, situated in childhood through the famous Christmas Eve scene. This same scene does not appear in Gerwig’s film for another 32 minutes, where it is then introduced as a flashback.
Similar to Armstrong’s film, the Christmas Eve scene, alongside all other scenes Gerwig categorizes as childhood, are colored in warm tones. Alternatively, Gerwig’s scenes of adulthood exhibit cooler tones, with a notable blue and green color grading.
Figure 2: Marmee reading Mr. March’s letter (Gerwig, 32:37)
Figure 3: Meg, Jo and Amy walking out of Plumfield (Gerwig, 1:55:32)
In a film that melds the past and present, Gerwig’s color grading adds a sense of clarity, as viewers can more easily identify what parts of the interwoven storyline are childhood and adulthood based on their color scheme. Furthermore, through switching between these scenes of childhood and adulthood, Gerwig refutes Hutcheon’s third cliché and “manipulates time and space relations” (65) to present a story that takes place just as much in the past as it does in the present. Viewers are presented with an interesting contrast – visually, childhood and adulthood appear very distinct, but in terms of the story, Gerwig presents them as inseparable. Through this contrast, Gerwig explores a “liminal state” (Hardcastle et al., 4) in growing up, one where the boundaries between childhood and adulthood are blurred. Furthermore, the constant presence of childhood flashbacks throughout the main narrative of adulthood suggests that growing up is a process of self-reflection.
As coming-of-age films, Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s Little Women both focus on the theme of growing up, but they construct this theme in different ways through narrative time, voiceover and color grading. Armstrong’s film suggests that coming-of-age is a linear journey, whereas Gerwig’s film suggests that coming-of-age is a process of self-reflection. Furthermore, while Gerwig’s film presents childhood and adulthood as inseparable and explores the liminal space between them, Armstrong deals with childhood and adulthood as two entirely different realms of life. Overall, through pursuing these different interpretations of growing up, both adapters offer new, re-invented versions of Alcott’s story. Additionally, Armstrong and Gerwig address Hutcheon’s third cliché of adaptation, suggesting that the passing of time can be effectively constructed in film, whether it appear more explicit (as in Armstrong’s adaptation) or ambiguous (as in Gerwig’s).
CHAPTER FOUR: MARRIAGE
In this chapter, I will analyze the theme of marriage and how it is constructed in Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s Little Women adaptations. Throughout the story, we observe three marriages take place, that of Meg & John Brooke, Jo & Professor Bhaer, and Amy & Laurie. I will be analyzing the films’ portrayals of these marriages to answer the question of how both adapters provide a new take on the relationships Alcott created. While Armstrong and Gerwig take different approaches to depicting this theme, they strive towards the same goal: to expose and criticize the societal expectations surrounding 19th-century marriage.
“Whether an adapted story is told, shown, or interacted with, it always happens in a particular time and space in a society” (Hutcheon, 144) – in other words, the social context of an adaptation and its original source are defining aspects in the process of reinventing a work. In their adaptations, Armstrong and Gerwig are faced with the challenge of conveying a story about 19th-century societal standards to contemporary audiences. Gender expectations (which we be explored in further detail in Chapter Five) and beliefs surrounding marriage at the time that Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women were vastly different than that of the 1990s and 2010s. According to the sociologist Michele Adams, women in the 19th-century United States were seen as “frail and pure but nevertheless important in their capacity as morally influential caretakers of their husbands and children” (504). This view of womanhood led to the doctrine of coverture, wherein women gave up their autonomy and were “legally incorporated into the person of their husbands” (Adams, 504). Men became the protectors of and sole providers for women, and so it became commonplace that a woman had little to no choice but to marry a man. Even though Little Women is often defined as a feminist novel, some critics suggest that Alcott is complicit to these backwards notions of womanhood and marriage. In her book The Female Imagination: A Literary and Psychological Investigation of Women's Writing, Patricia Meyer Spacks says the following:
“The nature of women, this book [Little Women] suggests, is to be frivolous, foolish, vain and lazy. […] Confining themselves within the family, learning at the knee of a virtuous mother, controlled from afar by a vague but stern father, they [Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy] may hope to acquire goodness, which will be rewarded, at best, by marriage or at least by the opportunity to exercise positive influence upon a man” (Spacks, 97).
In their paper “A Feminist Romance: Adapting Little Women to the Screen”, Hollinger and Winterhalter define Alcott’s novel as “extraordinarily conflicted” (176) because it is just as critical of 19th-century gender norms as it is “thick with patriarchally complicit aspects of that ideology” (173). Hollinger and Winterhalter argue that Alcott’s “feminist sentiments and active, independent lifestyle did not always find expression in her work” (175), seeing as Alcott’s work wouldn’t get published if she was too outspoken against topics such as marriage. However, certain aspects of the marriages in Little Women exhibit a sense of Alcott’s feminist views (e.g., none of the women end up marrying for wealth or status, and the characters challenge what it really means to be a wife). Therefore, it can be argued that Alcott laid the foundations for a more critical take on marriage, foundations which adapters like Armstrong and Gerwig can build upon to “engage in a larger social or cultural critique” (Hutcheon, 94).
To answer the question of how Gerwig and Armstrong embrace different approaches to a subversive take on marriage, I will begin with a summary of the marriages in Little Women, followed by an analysis of how this theme is portrayed in both adaptations. This analysis will explore how Armstrong’s characters challenge societal expectations surrounding marriage, as well as Gerwig’s establishment and defiance of marriage as an economic proposition.
Marches Down the Aisle
The second volume of Little Women was published initially under the title of Good Wives – a very fitting name considering that in this second half of the story, we observe three of the four March sisters getting married. The first of the sisters to marry is Meg, who marries John Brooke. Their wedding takes place in the middle of the story (Alcott 2019, 279), shortly after which Jo realizes that Laurie has romantic feelings for her – feelings that she does not reciprocate (366). Jo moves to New York to escape this dilemma, where she meets Professor Friedrich Bhaer. Upon Jo’s return home six months later, Laurie proposes, and she declines (Alcott 2019, 398). Jo insists that she doesn’t love Laurie and, despite believing she will never marry, admits that one day she hopes to find another man to “live and die for” (Alcott 2019, 402). To escape his heartache, Laurie joins his grandfather (Mr. Laurence) on a trip to Europe, where he interacts often with Amy, who is traveling in Europe with Aunt March. While getting over his feelings for Jo, Laurie discovers a love for Amy. They get married before leaving Europe, bringing a bit of happy news back to the March family mourning the recent death of Beth (Alcott 2019, 471). Professor Bhaer arrives in Concord to surprise Jo, and on the last day of his visit he proposes, which she happily accepts. Jo marries Bhaer at the end of the novel (Alcott 2019, 528), to the chagrin of many readers who wished for Jo and Laurie to end up together. Through this unexpected turn in the plot, Alcott hoped to make a powerful point about marriage, writing in her journal, “Girls write to ask who the little women marry, as if that was the only end and aim of a woman's life. I won't marry Jo to Laurie to please anyone” (Alcott 2011, 201).
Desire Trumps Necessity: Marriage in Armstrong’s Film
Gillian Armstrong’s Little Women is a definitive feminist take on Alcott’s novel (McKenna), and part of that is due to Armstrong’s treatment of marriage throughout the story. In her adaptation, Armstrong explores the motivations behind the story’s marriages, in doing so clarifying that the March sisters marry out of feelings of desire rather than necessity. However, whether that desire can be defined as love is still in question. Furthermore, through the construction of Jo’s relationship with Professor Bhaer and their subsequent marriage, Armstrong investigates how marriage impacts a woman’s personal freedoms, and to what extent Jo’s marriage symbolizes the end of her life as a writer.
In Armstrong’s adaptation, Meg, Jo, and Amy find themselves drawn to their partners through emotional connections and desire. The first marriage we are presented with in this film is that of Meg and John Brooke, whose relationship is constructed through various short but sweet interactions. Meg discusses with Marmee and Jo the idea of marrying John, saying “I’m fond of Mr. Brooke. He’s a good man, he’s kind and serious. I’m not afraid of being poor” (Armstrong, 1:00:14). The two then share a romantic kiss in the doorway of the March home on the night that John brings Mr. March back to Concord in good health (Armstrong, 1:02:01). The multitrack capability of film becomes evident in this scene as whimsical, romantic music plays in the background, emphasizing the emotional connotation of their kiss. Armstrong’s portrayal of Meg and John’s relationship largely avoids fidelity criticism – everything regarding their marriage as presented in the film comes directly from what Alcott wrote. However, the same cannot be said regarding the relationships that Jo and Amy share.
As explained earlier, Jo’s marriage to Professor Bhaer was Alcott’s begrudging acceptance of popular demands that Jo be married. Because Bhaer is introduced so late in the story, their marriage comes across as quite rushed and ingenuine – it also concedes a counter-intuitive point that women such as Jo, who strive for independence, must eventually end up married. Armstrong tries to subvert this narrative by adding more depth to the relationship between Jo and Bhaer, constructing a dynamic between the two characters as intellectual equals. Jo and Bhaer engage in various intellectual conversations, touching on topics like transcendentalism (1:14:03), Shakespeare’s works (Armstrong, 1:15:34), and Walt Whitman’s poetry (Armstrong, 1:17:10). Bhaer also helps Jo to secure a voice in male-dominated political discussions, as Armstrong shows us a scene where Bhaer interrupts his colleagues to give Jo the opportunity to speak about women’s voting rights (1:19:29). Furthermore, Jo comes to the Professor for feedback on her writing (Armstrong, 1:31:10), even though she is disappointed when Bhaer gives her constructive criticism rather than uncontested praise. Hollinger and Winterhalter argue that the “happy accident” (188) that is Jo and Bhaer’s relationship comes from Bhaer’s support of Jo’s intellectual endeavors, which allows for an emotional bond to form between the two characters. Therefore, through their interactions, Armstrong suggests that Jo and Bhaer’s relationship is born out of an emotional connection rooted in intellectual equality, rather than a feeling of necessity or social pressure. However, while Armstrong suggests that there is a deeper connection between the two characters than what Alcott conveys in the novel, their relationship lacks romance in many ways that mirror Alcott’s original writing.
To begin, the fact that Bhaer arrives so late in the film (Armstrong, 1:12:21) replicates the novel’s sense that their very sudden relationship is lacking in a level of genuineness. Cartmell and Simons suggest that Armstrong is taking part in a harmful narrative surrounding marriage, wherein “for a woman to achieve her ultimate creative potential, according to Hollywood rules, she must have a man” (90). Even though Armstrong intends to create a more genuine, emotional connection between Jo and Bhaer, it nonetheless plays into the expectation that a woman be married at the end of the story. However, seeing as Armstrong’s film closes with the scene of Jo and Bhaer’s engagement, viewers never actually see Jo married. This closing scene may symbolize that marriage isn’t the end of Jo’s story, and that there is much more to life and one’s career than getting married.
The final marriage to discuss in Armstrong’s film is that of Amy and Laurie. In the novel, Laurie seems to quickly move past his feelings for Jo by pursuing Amy, something that makes their subsequent relationship come across as ingenuine. This disconnect is further established in Armstrong’s film by her decision to cast two different actors to portray Amy. As explained earlier, the change from Dunst to Mathis allowed Armstrong to portray the passing of time. However, while this change helps to construct her interpretation of growing up, the change in actor negatively impacts Armstrong’s portrayal of Amy and Laurie’s relationship. In this case, Armstrong concedes to Hutcheon’s third adaptation cliché and succumbs to the fate that her adult Amy will come across as unfamiliar and disconnected from the story we have been introduced to, taking away from the authenticity of Amy and Laurie’s relationship.
Armstrong attempts to counteract this unfamiliarity by establishing a greater emotional connection between the characters. She re-invents Amy and Laurie’s relationship to highlight their connection earlier in the story, rooting their feelings in a bond from their childhood. This can be observed in the scene where Laurie is taking Amy to Aunt March’s house, so she doesn’t catch Beth’s scarlet fever.
AMY: I don’t wanna go away.
LAURIE: I’ll come see you every day. I swear it. You won’t be alone.
AMY: I’m afraid of Aunt March.
LAURIE: If she’s unkind to you, I’ll come and take you away.
AMY: Where will we go?
LAURIE: Paris?
AMY: If I get scarlet fever and die, give Meg my green box with the doves on it. And Jo must have my turquoise ring.
LAURIE: I’ll see to that.
AMY: I don’t wanna die. I’ve never even been kissed. I’ve waited my whole life to be kissed. And what if I miss it?
LAURIE: I tell you what. I promise to kiss you before you die.
(Armstrong, 52:02)
While the content of this conversation is quite heavy, the tone and body language between the two characters is very gentle and caring, alluding to the romantic relationship that is to emerge between them. The mention of Paris is also foreshadowing, or “prolepsis” (Morris, 107), seeing as it is in France many years later where Amy and Laurie embrace their emotional connection.
Laurie expresses his love for Amy later in the film, saying “Just as you have always known you would never marry a pauper, I have always known I should be part of the March family” (Armstrong, 1:29:33). While this suggests a fondness that Laurie has for Amy, it brings into question whether he truly loves her, or if he feels a connection to her simply because she is a March. While Armstrong leaves the exact definition of their connection ambiguous, she effectively illustrates that there is a deeper connection between the two characters which explains why they get married. Laurie doesn’t choose to marry Amy simply because he cannot have Jo. Amy doesn’t choose to marry Laurie because she feels pressured to marry a rich man. Rather, they have an emotional bond that goes back many years, forming the basis of their marriage.
Overall, Armstrong’s adaptation presents marriages rooted in emotional connection, rather than out of a perceived necessity to conform to societal expectations. While Armstrong does succeed in challenging the notion of marriage as a necessity, viewers are left to question if what motivates the marriages in this film is true love. While Meg and John’s marriage seems to come from a feeling of love (as is also seen in Alcott’s novel), Jo and Bhaer’s originates in their intellectual relationship, and Amy and Laurie’s marriage finds its roots in childhood bonds and comfort. However, what Armstrong may be unable to achieve in terms of establishing a feeling of love behind Little Women’s marriages, Gerwig attempts to address in her own adaptation.
A Proposition Rejected: Marriage in Gerwig’s Film
Like Armstrong, Gerwig’s Little Women portrays marriage as more than a necessary step in life for women. As explained earlier, the notion of marriage in the 19th-century United States surrounded the idea that men were supposed to provide for their wives. With this in mind, Gerwig’s film explores the monetary implications of marriage, dealing with the idea of marriage as an economic proposition – a proposition which the March sisters definitively reject.
Despite Gerwig’s decision to alter the chronology, she stays true to Alcott’s novel by introducing Meg & John’s relationship first. Like Armstrong’s film, Meg’s relationship receives the least screen time, but Gerwig ties in additional aspects of Meg’s story from later in the novel, many of which revolve around the fact that John struggles to provide for his family. Meg defies the expectations of her time by marrying John, a simple tutor, knowing that he is not a rich man. Her love for John drives their marriage, rather than a desire for his (non-existent) wealth. In the following scene, Gerwig includes a moment from the novel that doesn’t appear in Armstrong’s film:
JOHN: You should send your fabric to the dressmaker as soon as possible.
MEG: I can’t.
JOHN: No, I don’t want to hear another word. I want you to have that dress. My old coat will be fine for the winter.
MEG: John, I really can’t. I sold the fabric to Sally.
JOHN: You did? I don’t want you to be unhappy.
MEG: I couldn’t be. John Brooke is my husband. And I am his wife.
(Gerwig, 1:24:55)
Set outside of Meg and John’s small, quaint home, this conversation ends with the camera looking down at the couple as they embrace, emphasizing the love shared between the two. While the depiction of Meg and John’s relationship in such scenes is brief, Gerwig portrays a strong love between the two characters which allows for them to look beyond the economic implications that come with their marriage.
One of the greatest changes in Gerwig’s adaptation is her iteration of Professor Bhaer and the relationship he shares with Jo. Their relationship receives a complete re-invention, due to two of Gerwig’s choices: the altered chronology and the addition of new scenes written by Gerwig herself. In her handling of the story’s chronology, Gerwig refutes Hutcheon’s third cliché of adaptation, weaving together moments of the past and present to create a brand-new Professor Bhaer. Rather than being introduced late in the story, Bhaer is the third character viewers meet in Gerwig’s film – following Jo and her publisher, Mr. Dashwood. Bhaer first appears in the second scene, where he speaks to Jo as she writes by the fireplace:
BHAER: Good afternoon, Miss March.
JO: Oh, good afternoon.
BHAER: You’re on fire.
JO: Thank you.
BHAER: You’re on fire! [Points at her skirt]
JO: [Frantically puts out the fire] Thank you!
BHAER: I have the same habit, you see?
(Gerwig, 5:09)
Bhaer comes to Jo’s aid, comforting her by showing his own scorched coat. In this introduction, Bhaer exhibits a heartfelt and approachable nature, which contrasts with how Armstrong introduces him (as much more serious and philosophical) and Jo’s first description of Bhaer in the novel, where she simply calls him “very learned and good” (Alcott 2019, 369). Bhaer’s fun and light-hearted nature is developed by Gerwig’s addition of a scene not in the novel, wherein Jo and Bhaer dance together at a large gathering (11:18). The camera follows the characters as they dance, showing them laughing, smiling, and stealing glances at one another. Through these interactions, which viewers see very early on in the film, Gerwig lays the foundation for a genuine, authentic relationship. Furthermore, while the very nature of Jo and Bhaer’s connection remains ambiguous in Alcott’s novel and Armstrong’s film, Gerwig’s dialogue makes it very clear that this connection is, indeed, love.
AMY: Jo, you love him!
JO: What? No, no, I don’t.
AMY: Yes, you do! I am half as smart as you, but I can see it plainly. You love him. Doesn’t she love him?
MR. LAURENCE: Good instinct. You love him!
(Gerwig, 2:00:52)
Jo is shown at this very moment realizing that she does love Professor Bhaer, and she decides to chase after him, hoping to catch him at the train station before he leaves Concord. The scene where they reunite is interwoven with a scene from later in the story, where Jo argues about the fate of her novel’s protagonist with Mr. Dashwood:
JO: No, it isn’t the right ending.
DASHWOOD: The right ending is the one that sells. Trust me, if you decide to end your delightful book with your heroine a spinster, no one will buy it. It won’t be worth printing.
JO: I suppose marriage has always been an economic proposition, even in fiction.
DASHWOOD: It’s romance.
JO: It’s mercenary.
(Gerwig, 2:02:33)
This conversation is followed by a shot of Jo running into Bhaer’s arms, confessing her love for him. Through her use of flashbacks in this scene, Gerwig creates a complicated dynamic surrounding marriage. On one hand, Jo admits that marriage is an economic proposition, and essentially agrees to sell her protagonist into marriage. On the other hand, Jo circumvents the idea of marriage as an economic proposition by embracing her love for Bhaer, who declares that his “hands are empty” (Gerwig, 2:04:20). Therefore, even though Gerwig is portraying an unconventional 19th-century marriage, one motivated by love rather than necessity, she may still be playing into the notion of marriage as an economic proposition and the typical Hollywood rule that “for a woman to achieve her ultimate creative potential […] she must have a man” (Cartmell & Simons, 90).
In the same way that she re-imagines the relationship between Jo and Professor Bhaer, Gerwig aimed to pursue a new take on Amy and Laurie’s marriage (Li). Seeing as much of Gerwig’s film is rooted in the adult life of the March sisters, the relationship between Amy and Laurie is shown blossoming in these later years. As in the novel, Gerwig’s Aunt March tells Amy that she must marry rich: “You are your family’s hope now. Beth is sick, Jo is a lost cause, and I hear Meg has had her head turned by a penniless tutor, so it’ll be up to you to support them all” (1:22:45). By the time Amy is an adult pursuing her artistic studies in Europe, she sees marriage as little more than an economic proposition. Her and Laurie argue about this during a scene set in Amy’s art studio, where she delivers the following monologue:
“I’m just a woman. And as a woman there is no way for me to make my own money. Not enough to earn a living or support my family. If I had my own money – which I don't – that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. If we had children, they would be his, not mine. They would be his property. So don’t sit there and tell me marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is.” (Gerwig, 1:03:12)
This is another instance of Gerwig introducing a new scene that doesn’t come from the novel. Gerwig contrasts this moment of tension with gentle, sensual body language between Amy and Laurie following the monologue, suggesting the deeper connection that they have. This connection is further explored when Amy admits her love for Laurie:
“I have been second to Jo my whole life in everything. I will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her. I won’t. I won’t do it. Not when I’ve spent my entire life loving you.” (Gerwig, 1:15:53).
Gerwig makes it clear that Amy, although critical of Laurie’s feelings for her, has an intense love for Laurie, who does eventually prove his love by emotionally supporting Amy after Beth dies. Gerwig portrays this emotional bond growing between Amy and Laurie in their adulthood as they engage in vulnerable, emotional conversations – this bond evolves then into their romance and marriage. Therefore, while Amy does succeed in eventually marrying a rich man, succumbing to the fate of the economic proposition of marriage, Gerwig clarifies that it is primarily her love for Laurie that motivates their relationship.
Gerwig’s Little Women paints marriage as an economic proposition, yet Meg, Jo and Amy all choose to marry for reasons largely unrelated to money, as Gerwig centers their marriages around feelings of love and desire. However, there are still monetary implications that should be discussed. Amy does, in the end, marry a rich man like she always knew she would. Jo must sell her protagonist into marriage in order to get published. Meg must accept a life of poverty because of her love for John. When all of this is considered, it becomes clear that, while Gerwig is suggesting that 19th-century middle class women should get married for reasons beyond money, it is impossible to completely disregard the economic aspect of marriage.
In their adaptations, Armstrong and Gerwig aim to subvert the typical 19th-century narrative around marriage, which sees it as a necessary step for the social and economic survival of a woman. Armstrong’s adaptation tackles marriage as a societal expectation, portraying her characters as engaging in marriage out of genuine emotional connection, rather than feelings of necessity. These emotional connections are left quite ambiguous, differing from Gerwig’s adaptation which aims to very clearly exhibit that the characters marry out of love. Gerwig shifts the locus of marriage to the monetary realm, as her characters deal with the established fact that marriage is an economic proposition. Gerwig accepts and emphasizes this reality, which adds a greater weight to the fact that, at the end of the day, Gerwig’s little women still marry for love.
CHAPTER FIVE: WOMEN’S RIGHTS
The final theme that I will analyze in Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s Little Women adaptations is women’s rights. As discussed in the previous chapter, Alcott was limited in terms of how progressive her novel could be. Nonetheless, Little Women and its many adaptations have become known as “a portrayal of a family that espouses progressive, even radical, feminist beliefs” (Hooper, 421). Armstrong and Gerwig’s more explicitly feminist adaptations of the story can be seen as expansions upon Alcott’s feminist work. This chapter will explore the portrayal of women’s rights in both adaptations, with a focus on how Armstrong and Gerwig assign different characters the role of the outspoken feminist. Armstrong’s film, as explained by Hollinger and Winterhalter, presents three characters as the main proponents of women’s rights: Marmee, Beth and Jo (176). Gerwig’s film assigns Jo this same role of the outspoken feminist, while also providing a new interpretation of Amy as a champion for women’s rights. This theme touches on many topics, such as education, voting, land ownership, economic freedom, careers, and marriage (the topic of marriage was explored in the previous chapter, so it will not be a major focus in this analysis). I will analyze how the identified feminist characters approach each of these topics, to understand how Armstrong and Gerwig construct women’s rights as a prominent theme and argue for gender equality.
Marmee, Beth and Jo: Armstrong’s Feminists
Hollinger and Winterhalter argue that the characters Marmee, Beth and Jo “embody the personal and interpersonal attitudes that Swicord [screenwriter] and Armstrong suggest can transform the world into a place where the lives of women are no longer subordinated to those of men” (176-177). Through the “verbal assertiveness” (Hollinger & Winterhalter, 177) of these characters, Armstrong imbues her film with a strong feminist message.
In Armstrong’s adaptation, Marmee becomes a “powerful symbol of female agency” who comes to represent the “paramount female virtues of the 1990s” (Hollinger & Winterhalter, 181). Whereas Alcott’s Marmee is the soft-spoken, wise moral guide for her little women, Armstrong presents Marmee as a vocal advocate for women’s rights, who argues for feminist causes extending beyond those present Alcott’s original work (Hollinger & Winterhalter, 182). The first of these causes is the expectation for women to wear corsets, a highly restrictive and sexist practice. In an original scene created by Armstrong (absent from the source text), Marmee discusses the importance of certain female freedoms with John Brooke:
“It is my opinion that young girls are no different than boys in their need for exertion. Feminine weakness and fainting spells are the direct result of our confining young girls to the house, bent over their needlework in restrictive corsets.” (Armstrong, 20:13).
Despite significant debate over corsets originating in the mid-19th century (Fields, 355), no such addition to this debate appears in Alcott’s Little Women. Therefore, Armstrong’s addition of this dialogue expands the feminist discourse of the story. Another powerful scene that exhibits Marmee’s status as one of Armstrong’s feminist figures comes after Meg returns from the Moffat’s ball. Meg, embarrassed that she spent her time flirting while dressed in borrowed fancy clothes and jewelry, confides her frustration in Marmee:
MARMEE: And nothing provokes speculation more than the sight of a woman enjoying herself.
MEG: Why is it that Laurie may do as he likes and flirt and tipple champagne…
MARMEE: And no one thinks the less of him? Well, I suppose for one practical reason, Laurie is a man. And as such, he may vote, hold property, and pursue any profession he pleases. And so, he is not so easily demeaned.
(Armstrong, 43:13)
In this scene, Marmee makes the bold statement that women will receive criticism for something as simple as being happy. Following this, she identifies the inequality that middle-class 19th-century women face regarding voting, land ownership and possible careers. Armstrong closes this scene with a touching message from Marmee: “I so wish I could give my girls a more just world. I know you’ll make it a better place.” (Armstrong, 44:06). Marmee is then shown embracing her daughters, giving viewers a moment to reflect on the emotion and power of her words. Through her dialogue, Armstrong uses Marmee as a character who not only contextualizes the grand injustices that women of her time face, but as an inspiring figure who sends a positive message that her own little women can make change.
The second of Armstrong’s proponents of women’s rights is Beth. Unlike the rest of the March sisters who left home to pursue careers and marriages, Beth happily resided in the March household until she died from sickness at the age of 23. Hollinger and Winterhalter identify Beth’s death as one of the most “recalcitrantly regressive aspects of the novel” (183) in terms of feminist messaging. In Alcott’s novel, Beth’s death is what leads Jo to abandon her literary pursuits and take Beth’s place as the perfect, altruistic daughter at home:
“You must take my place, Jo, and be everything to father and mother when I’m gone. They will turn to you, don’t fail them; and if it’s hard to work alone, remember that I don’t forget you, and that you’ll be happier in doing that than writing splendid books or seeing all the world…” (Alcott 2019, 457).
Jo’s desire to have a voice in the male-dominated literary world is one of the core aspects of her feminist identity, and Beth’s demand that Jo abandons this passion reverts much of the subversive feminist messaging Alcott hoped to convey. To avoid this regressive fate in her adaptation, Armstrong gave Beth different parting words, drawn from an earlier passage in the novel:
BETH: I was never like the rest of you, making plans about the great things I’d do. I never saw myself as anything much. Not a great writer like you.
JO: Oh, Beth. I’ve never been a great writer.
BETH: But you will be. Oh, Jo. I’ve missed you so. Why does everyone want to go away? I love being home. But I don’t like being left behind. Now I am the one going ahead. I am not afraid. I can be brave like you. But I know I shall be homesick for you, even in heaven.
(Armstrong, 1:35:21)
Rather than encouraging Jo to abandon her literary pursuits, Armstrong’s Beth encourages Jo to continue writing, re-imagining this scene as a “symbolic enactment of female strength and determination” (Hollinger & Winterhalter, 185). Just as this scene is transformed, Beth’s character is subsequently reshaped into an advocate for women’s rights; she encourages women such us Jo to pursue their own passions rather than surrendering to a socially accepted fate of a household woman.
Jo is the final, and perhaps most significant, outspoken feminist figure in Armstrong’s film. In the film’s opening, as the camera transitions from landscape shots to close portraits of the Alcott household, we hear Jo introduce the story: “My sisters and I remember that winter as the coldest of our childhood…” (Armstrong, 2:56). Through this voiceover, Armstrong utilizes the multitrack capabilities of film (Hutcheon, 42-43) to portray Jo as the controller of the film’s narrative. This is a significant departure from Alcott’s novel, which utilizes a third-person omniscient narrator. By giving Jo power over her own narrative – “the story of her own triumph” (Hollinger & Winterhalter, 185) – Armstrong is establishing Jo as an authoritative storyteller amidst a world dominated by male voices.
Jo’s major objective in Armstrong’s film is to become a published author. In this journey, Jo is outspoken about many issues regarding women’s rights, the first of which is education. Armstrong shows Jo complaining to Laurie about her inability to get the same education as him, exclaiming, “Oh, I’d commit murder to go to college!” (Armstrong, 16:45). Later, Armstrong shows Jo outraged, pacing angrily across the kitchen upon finding out that Amy’s teacher said it is “as useful to educate a woman as to educate a female cat” (Armstrong, 24:35). Jo’s passion for education is closely tied to her passion for writing, two objects of Jo’s personality that Armstrong gives greater precedence in the film compared to the novel. Armstrong’s prioritization of Jo’s intellectual and career-based desires can be observed in her refusal of Laurie’s marriage proposal. In the novel, Jo turns down Laurie’s proposal because she doesn’t truly love him, and she believes that someday she will love a different man, admitting “Yes, I will live and die for him, if he ever comes and makes me love him in spite of myself…” (Alcott 2019, 402). Alternatively, in her film, Armstrong identifies Jo’s career aspirations and “commitment to personal fulfillment” (Hollinger & Winterhalter, 188) as the reason for her refusal. Through this portrayal of Jo’s character, Armstrong not only explores the reality of the many injustices Jo faces as a woman, but she also sends a powerful message about the ability of women to defy such injustices.
While Hollinger & Winterhalter argue that Armstrong succeeds in constructing Jo as a headstrong proponent of women’s rights, I believe her story ends in a way that refutes nearly all the feminist progress she has worked towards. When Bhaer arrives in Concord, he shares the happy news that Jo’s book is being published – the very object of her greatest desires. However, Bhaer is the sole character responsible for taking her manuscript to the publishers and getting it approved. While this is a positive development from the novel, seeing as Alcott’s Jo doesn’t get published in the first place, it sends a regressive message about male necessity in female pursuits. Bhaer is put into a position of power over Jo’s work – she only acquires a voice in the world of literature because a man has given it to her. Due to this ending that contrasts Jo’s character throughout the rest of the film, Armstrong’s portrayal of Jo as a feminist figure becomes slightly less effective.
Armstrong’s Marmee, Beth and Jo send powerful messages about women’s rights and what it is like to be a middle-class woman living in their male-dominated, 19th-century world. Alcott’s Marmee is transformed into a “powerful symbol of female agency” (Hollinger & Winterhalter, 181). The meager Beth becomes a champion of female determination and strength. Jo is given control of her story, arguing for equality in educational and career opportunities, despite eventually accepting the necessity for a man’s help to achieve her literary career. Despite the film’s somewhat ambiguous ending with nature of Jo’s publishing, Armstrong still manages to send a strong message about the necessity for gender equality, and the struggle that women face in ensuring that they get the rights and treatment they deserve.
Jo and Amy: Gerwig’s Feminists
Gerwig assigns Jo and Amy the roles of outspoken feminists in her adaptation. Through their dialogue with other characters and their economic and career pursuits, Jo and Amy point out and challenge the injustices they face as women.
Amy is a divisive character for many fans of Little Women (Li), as some find her artistic and inspiring, while others see her as snobby and vain. In her adaptation, Gerwig wanted to provide a brand-new look at Amy, turning her into a more complex but also more likeable character (Li) –from the spoiled girl who gets all she wants to a hardworking, determined young woman. Part of this is achieved through Gerwig’s choice to cast Florence Pugh as Amy. Alcott’s Amy is a pristine, ladylike character – Pugh, however, embodies an Amy who is outspoken, confident, and who could match the ferocity of Jo (Li). Known for the psychological thriller Midsommar and her performance as the Russian assassin Yelena Belova in Marvel’s Black Widow, Pugh exhibits an intensity uncharacteristic of Alcott’s Amy. Through this casting decision, Gerwig and Pugh create a new version of Amy who is confident, defiant, and eager to speak her mind.
Critics argue that Gerwig’s Amy is a “pragmatic realist” (Abad-Santos) because she knows that being a woman puts her at a societal and economic disadvantage. However, this acceptance of her reality doesn’t dissuade Amy from chasing success and prosperity. In the previous chapter, Amy’s monologue about marriage as an economic proposition was discussed, but there is much more to this moment of vulnerability than just her commentary on marriage.
“I’m not a poet. I’m just a woman. And as a woman there is no way for me to make my own money. Not enough to earn a living or support my family. If I had my own money, which I don't, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. If we had children, they would be his - not mine. They would be his property. So don’t sit there and tell me marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is.” (Gerwig, 1:03:12)
Leading up to this speech, the camera switches between Laurie and Amy as they converse. During this monologue, however, the camera remains focused on Amy, as she slowly moves forward to confront Laurie. This camera movement and Push’s assertive body language places Amy in a position of power in the scene. The camera motion assigns greater importance to Amy’s words, rather than Laurie’s reaction. Through her powerful words, Amy explains that she knows she has no choice but to marry rich, and the fact that she marries Laurie in the end may suggest that she succumbs to the misogynist standards she criticizes in this very monologue. However, as established in the previous chapter, her marriage to Laurie is not motivated primarily by her desire for economic prosperity, but rather out of her love for him. Therefore, through her powerful words and actions, Gerwig portrays Amy as a strong, empowered woman. Gerwig’s Amy is calculated, she realizes she is at a disadvantage as a woman, but she is not afraid to challenge that notion head-on and carve out a better life for herself.
As in Armstrong’s film, Gerwig’s Jo is an outspoken feminist character who isn’t afraid to draw attention to and challenge the inequalities that women of her time face. Jo’s defiance is the core of her character (Hoogland, 100), and Gerwig expands upon this defiance by providing Jo new dialogue and plot developments towards the end of her story. One of the most memorable moments in Gerwig’s adaptation comes when Jo confides in Marmee about her loneliness:
“Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they’ve got ambition and they’ve got talent, as well as just beauty. And I’m so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for. I’m so sick of it. But I’m so lonely.” (Gerwig, 1:39:58).
In this monologue (another piece of original dialogue written by Gerwig), Jo makes the subversive statement that women can be ambitious, talented, and complex – traits that weren’t commonly associated with middle class women of Alcott’s time. Jo, who spends most of her life prioritizing intellectual and career pursuits, finds herself conflicted when she realizes that she does want the love that she has always run away from. Following this scene, Gerwig shows Jo dive into the intense process of writing her novel, encapsulating the very ambition and talent Jo speaks of. In a new approach to this plot point, Gerwig has Jo send her manuscript to the publisher herself, alongside a letter to Mr. Dashwood which she recites to the viewer, looking directly into the camera in a confrontational manner (Gerwig, 1:54:01). This is development from Armstrong’s work, where it was Bhaer who got the novel published. Furthermore, this is a massive deviation from Alcott’s original text, where Jo never gets a published novel. In Gerwig’s words, “the ultimate thing that you feel is not that this is a story of ‘boy gets girl’, but this is a story of ‘girl gets a book’” (Ryan). The ending of Gerwig’s film places emphasis on Jo’s individual pursuits, urging viewers to understand that Jo and all women have the right to tell their own stories.
Jo and Amy in Gerwig’s adaptation are outspoken characters, not afraid to criticize the way that society looks at them as women. Their emotional monologues reveal the reality that women of their time face. While Amy’s ending does leave a few questions for viewers (e.g., is she really that subversive, if she ends up marrying rich anyways?), Jo’s conclusion sends a powerful message about the necessity for women to be able to pursue their own interests and ambitions.
Gillian Armstrong and Greta Gerwig have imbued their adaptations with strong feminist messaging, not only identifying the many ways in which women such as the Marches are mistreated, but also urging for change. The two adapters utilize a different combination of characters to portray this theme and their powerful messaging. While Jo is the trademark feminist character of Alcott’s work, Armstrong chooses to re-imagine Marmee and Beth as well, showing their characters as very encouraging of female freedoms and determination. Alternatively, Gerwig argues for women’s rights through the additional re-invention of Amy, who is not afraid to criticize the ways that she is mistreated and held back in life simply by being a woman.
CONCLUSION
Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women is a story that has been thoroughly re-imagined, re-interpreted and re-negotiated through its long history of adaptation. In this thesis, I evaluated the ways in which two directors, Gillian Armstrong and Greta Gerwig, re-imagine Little Women in their film adaptations through an exploration of the themes of growing up, marriage, and women’s rights.
Adaptations of Little Women, as a story largely about the experience of growing up, have not been sufficiently evaluated as coming-of-age stories. To address this knowledge gap, the theme of growing up was explored in Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s adaptations, with a focus on how these adapters portray the journey from childhood to adulthood. Through pursuing different narrative times, Armstrong and Gerwig enact coming-of-age in distinct ways. Armstrong’s film, sharing a greater similarity with Alcott’s novel, suggests that childhood and adulthood are two separate realms of life, and to grow up, a person must pass out of childhood and into adulthood. Alternatively, Gerwig conveys growing up as a cumulative process of self-reflection, exploring the liminal area of coming-of-age through a re-imagined chronology, tying together childhood and adulthood in a way that construes these phases of life as inextricably linked.
As for the theme of marriage, Armstrong and Gerwig both expand upon Alcott’s initial criticisms of marriage as a societal expectation, suggesting that there is much more to women’s lives and relationships than marrying men out of necessity. While Armstrong explores the societal implications of marriage and Gerwig explores the economic implications, both adapters construct the relationships of the March sisters as being rooted in emotional connection, rather than a desire for social or economic prosperity.
Women’s rights, the final theme in focus, was explored through characterization, as Armstrong and Gerwig assign different characters the role of outspoken feminists and proponents of women’s rights. The adapters’ chosen characters tackle topics such as education, land ownership, voting, economic freedom, careers, and marriage, making a strong case for gender equality. I argued that these feminist characters not only provide context for how unequally women were treated in the 19th-century United States, but they criticize and argue against such treatment. In doing so, Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s films expand upon the feminist themes of Alcott’s novel, connecting a story from the 1860s to contemporary discourse around feminism and gender equality.
Beyond addressing the specific films and themes in focus, this thesis also touched on the larger discourse surrounding film adaptation as a practice. As evaluated in Chapter Two, there are many criticisms surrounding film adaptation, largely rooted in film’s ability to convey temporality and fidelity to source texts. While film is limited in the sense that it can only show, rather than tell, Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s films suggest that such drawbacks can be successfully navigated. Based on the composition of Armstrong’s and Gerwig’s adaptations, I argue that the multitrack capabilities of film can be utilized to create stories that explore time and emotion in complex, artistic ways.
In conclusion, I have argued that, through a re-invention of Little Women’s three core themes, Gillian Armstrong’s and Greta Gerwig’s film adaptations re-invent the beloved novel in order to convey Alcott’s story in new, refreshing ways. As a result of these re-imaginations, a story over 150 years old can remain captivating, entertaining, and thought-provoking for audiences of the modern day.
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