How Greta Gerwig's 'Little Women' Sidelines Jo (and why that's a good thing)

This classic story deserves to be retold

As a young girl, I obsessed over Louisa May Alcott's 'Little Women'. Shallow the thoughts of an eleven-year-old are, my interest stemmed mainly from the fact that I shared a name with a one of the March sisters, the sickly but humble Beth. Reading the book countless times, I began to liken myself to Beth March as the most loving and selfless of her siblings. But, as time went on, I found that I lost my affection for Beth, increasingly dismissing her as stale and boring. Watching Winona Ryder in Gillian Armstrong's 1994 adaptation, I wanted to be Jo, a girl confident in her abilities and firm in her beliefs with an unwavering and ferocious sense of ambition. Given my fondness for this story, when rumours that 'Lady Bird' (2017) director Greta Gerwig was planning a new adaptation began to circulate, I was thrilled to meet yet another version of Jo to idealize.

Yet, when I left the screening, it was not only Jo - portrayed by the incomporable Saoirse Ronan - I was impressed by. Through its effective use of timelines and setting, Gerwig's adaptation evoked in me a newfound respect for Amy and Meg as well as a reconsideration of the once beloved Beth. By being introduced to the characters in the wake of their adult lives, a layered nuance was added to their personal traits, a subtlety that called for a reassessment of my previous prejudices.

I had always seen Amy March as the brat of the family, viciously impulsive and possessing few of the moral values of her elder sisters. And whilst this remains true to an extent, Florence Pugh's fresh portrayal presents us with a more complex character with who struggles to navigate her Jo-like aspirations and ambitions with the reality of her social standing as a woman from a humble family. A particularly poignant scene in which she refuses Laurie's (Timothée Chalamet) seemingly disingenuous advances encapsulates Amy's spirit brilliantly as staunchly asserts her self-worth. She exclaims that, although she views marriage as a key factor in her pursuit of artistry, she refuses to be Laurie's replacement Jo. Amy's arc is one of maturity and, unlike her sisters for the most part, success. To reduce Amy to the spoiled child archetype would be to undermine her entirely.

Meg is potentially the least embraced of the March women. A common view would brand the eldest sister as the worst thing a character can possibly be: boring. Vain and with uninspiring aims by comparison to the artistic endeavours of Jo and Amy or even Beth's musical pursuits, Meg's eventual marriage to Mr. Brooke seems uninteresting to say the least. But this adaptation forces us to reckon with this judgement. Meg's dreams of domestic life and a happy partnership are just as valid as her sisters'. Her choice to abandon dreams of the stage and instead provide for her family is no less respectable than Jo's decision to pursue her writing. Both take control of their own lives but it could be argued that Meg simply represents a different kind of female agency. By allowing the audience to spend more time with Meg (Emma Watson) away from the disapproving guise of Jo, Gerwig allows us to understand her choices more precisely. Today, intersectional feminists try to support the choices not only of those women who wish to defy tradition but also those who still find it necessary to live by. As Meg put it herself: 'just because my dreams are different than yours, doesn't mean they're unimportant'.

Finally, is poor little Beth. Often overlooked or recognised as (spoiler alert) 'the one who dies', it is easy to forget the admirable qualities that this quiet March sister possesses. A gifted pianist and philanthropist in the making, Beth is highly empathetic and incredibly giving, so much so that when her charitable nature results in her contracting scarlet fever, she begs her sisters not to inform Amy as not to interrupt her studies in Paris. Although her generosity ultimately leads to her demise, Beth is the peace-making glue that holds the March family together. Her calm outlook is a foil to the tempers of Jo and Amy. Her modesty teaches Meg that family is more important than reputation. She reminds her siblings that even in the various pursuits it is important to take the time to think of others. Audiences may not get to know Beth (Eliza Scanlen) in the ways they do other characters in 'Little Women' but by making her death a central element of the story through a-chronological framing, Gerwig allows us to feel her presence even after she has gone, as the values she taught her sisters are reflected by their actions in adulthood.

I do not wish for young girls to stop idealizing Jo March. Jo is a brilliantly written and purposefully progressive character, exceptional for her time, who presents many of the values all girls should possess; to dream big, work hard, and make your own way in the world. But what Gerwig also shows us is that 'Little Women' contains a whole plethora of female characters, all of whom are aligned with the women of today. The March sisters inherently complement each other, and the care taken by the director in this adaptation to showcase each of their values, goals, and successes offers new life to this timeless story of female relationships. In such a polarising society it is easy for women to segregate themselves, whether it be 'progressives' criticising those women who conform more to traditional gender roles or the latter lambasting what they see as 'preachy' millenials. Gerwig's update on a classic female narrative demonstrates that, women are wonderfully diverse and, rather than constrict each other to narrow categories, we should celebrate our flaws and divergence. I may have always thought I was a Beth who wanted to be a Jo, but Greta Gerwig's 'Little Women' reminded me that I am all of the March sisters, and so are you.