A story about saying goodbye to childhood by giving up on your dreams and (if you’re a woman) knowing your place.
Seriously, it starts so well, the characters are vivid, believable, likeable (even the boring and one-note Beth has her moments), there is some real insight on growing up and the bittersweet feelings of this time – saying goodbye to childish joys and innocent friendships and building character through continuous and conscious self-improvement. Marmee’s approach to parenting – setting an example, never forcing her children’s confidence, respecting their boundaries, letting them make their mistake in order to learn through experience, and gently directing them on the right path – is remarkably progressive and impressive even today. There are many funny, many heartwarming, and many genuinely sorrowful episodes in the young heriones’ lives that easily create intimacy between characters and reader. The book has a solid moral foundation and most of the qualities is affirms as desirable in adolescents and young adults (above all kindness; also patience, a solid work ethic, tolerance, sociability, prudence, but also youthful passion and optimism) are what makes a decent human being in any era. The overarching motif of change and the grounded message that the girls’ letting go of their „castles in the air“ (i.e. their youthful dreams) is a sign of maturity, not resignation or regress, is a remarkably wise one: it makes the often overlooked point that happiness is not one’s dreams coming true, but a more enduring state, often coming from unexpected and seemingly unexciting sources.
The romance episodes, I found, were the least convincing – even the famous one. And the „married bliss“ scenes are, in my opinion, not just unbearably saccharine, but extremely naive, too.
I found two issues that were irritating enough for me to knock off two stars. Firstly, the tone was way too often (especially in the second part) insufferably moralising. Not just the messages (some of them are suitably old-fashioned and annoying in themselves, such as the idea that the only satisfaction women can get from life is from being wives and mothers, stated expressly by the way), but the tone itself, hammering these life lessons into readers like they’re in church and not reading a fictional story. It spoilt a lot of the enjoyment for me. Secondly, the fact that the girls effectively give up their aspirations as part of their growing up. It made no sense to me that Jo, who was always irreverent, creative and artistic, found contentment in being a caregiver. Amy conveniently finds that she has no genius even though she’s loved drawing all her life. And their choices of husbands are super underwhelming. I couldn’t buy Jo’s romance with the extremely boring professor one bit; nor Meg’s and bland John’s random love; nor Laurie so easily transferring his emotions onto Amy – how convenient and neat! The only somewhat convincing romance was Laurie’s unrequited love for Jo – because it was the only one with any passion in it. The message that family and friendship are the best sources of true happiness is solid, the execution I thought was uneven.