Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women” is a timeless story of girlhood and growing into yourself as an adult. 

After recently re-enjoying the 1994 and 2019 film adaptions, it was refreshing to re-experience the source material. Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy were such vibrant characters and had even more personality than their silver screen counterparts. Sweet Beth isn’t nearly as bland as most adaptions paint her, and while she is the most shy she does still get into scrapes like her sisters. 

Amy has received a lot of hate since the earliest adaptations, though the incomparable Florence Pugh did a lot to improve the character’s image, Amy still has the rep for being the brattiest March girl. Personally, upon my reread, I found that she was not as annoying as I once found her. But maybe that says something more about me growing up rather than just Amy. 

“Little Women” was one of my absolute favourite books as a child and I found it just as charming as an adult. The morals were a little more on the nose than I’d remembered, but that makes sense for the period of the book’s publication and does ultimately add to the book’s charm.