Women's Lit and Ladies' Wit: Writers Gotta Write

Fabulous Felt Book Barrettes

Top: Marshalls

Skirt: Vanilla Star, Macy's

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily

Bag: Dancing Days by Banned, Modcloth

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't like classic literature.  It's as moldy as Brie, its thees and thous sticking in my throat like errant Doritos as yet someone else dies of consumption.  And yet, I love Louisa May Alcott's Little Women.  I think that almost everyone knows this novel about the four March sisters coming of age in Massachusetts during and after the Civil War.  Meg is pretty and traditional, Jo is a rebellious writer, Beth is sweet and shy, and Amy is a social-climbing artist.  Women of all ages love this story and these characters just as I do.  It just took seeing Greta Gerwig's big screen adaptation to remind me.  

Did I check Little Women out of my elementary school library multiple times so I could finish reading it?  Yes.  Did I ask the super nice librarian, with not a little (totally unwarranted) trepidation, what * * * meant?  Yes.  (Scene change, it turns out.  To this day, I can't see a series of asterisks and not think about that.)  Did I watch the 1994 movie with Winona Ryder as Jo and Christian Bale as Laurie?  And did I cry when Beth (Claire Danes) died and Jo refused Laurie's proposal?  Um, is Aunt March an asshole?  Spoiler alert: she is.  Yet despite or perhaps because of spending all this time with the March family, I was instantly under Ms. Gerwig's spell as the first scene opened that day in the theater.  Maybe it's because the story starts in the middle and shows what came before in flashbacks.  We first see Jo (Saoirse Ronan) when she's living in New York at that boarding house, teaching and publishing her vampire stories and dealing with Professor Bhaer's cruel-to-be-kind dismissal of them.  Still, despite Jo's troubles, her life has a kind of vitality, a promise that threatens to explode when she's swept up in a dark yet lively dance scene.  By contrast, when we meet Meg (Emma Watson), she's peering sadly outside the door of her shabby house, resignedly telling her children to go play.  This makes it all the more poignant when we see Meg come to the same house, then sunshine yellow, years earlier as a bride, as euphoric and blind as the teenager she undoubtedly is.  She wanted marriage and children more than anything, but money troubles drive a wedge between her and her schoolteacher husband, a problem that becomes obvious when they quarrel over the $50 that Meg spent on fabric for a dress.  They make up, of course (although not after Meg has sold the fabric), but their reconciliation is bittersweet.  John's a good man, and Meg loves him.  But Gerwig makes no mistake in showing that Meg's life is limited.

Little Women is full of romance and girlish dreams.  But it's also about women's rights and being allowed to want more than being someone's wife and mother.  Gerwig shines a spotlight on that, making this classic seem as if it were happening today.  

Anyway, here's my copy of the book.  I hate how the cover features two randos instead of the four March sisters.  But then, bargain book buyers can't be choosers.

And now for some arts and crafts!  As a nod to Little Women and other timeless tales, I made this set of Fabulous Felt Book Barrettes:  

The spines are supposed to imitate old-timey leather, all rich and scholarly like the kind in the nineteenth century library of a land baron who never reads.  Speaking of which, here I am with some of my books.  Most of them are paperbacks, and most were written by women.    

I think that Jo would agree with me when I say this: women, uncap your pens.