In their latest literary detour, hosts Daniel Breyer and Jeremy Streich journey to Massachusetts to revisit a cornerstone of American literature—Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Episode 118 of the Good Scribes Only Podcast unpacks the enduring influence and contradictions of this 19th-century classic. Is it an early feminist triumph, a quaint relic of Victorian values, or a bit of both?
Originally published in 1868, Little Women traces the lives of the four March sisters—Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy—as they navigate adolescence, personal loss, creative ambition, and the pressures of marriage. While the novel still resonates emotionally with readers today, Daniel and Jeremy question whether its moral lessons uplift or constrain modern interpretations of womanhood.
Though often celebrated as a heartwarming story for young readers, Alcott’s novel can also read like a long-form moral guidebook. Jeremy notes that many chapters follow a predictable rhythm:
“It’s kind of like a self-help book for the 1860s,” he jokes.
Daniel concedes that the tone can be heavy-handed, but he sees depth in how Alcott shapes her characters.
“They’re not just moral symbols. You learn about them through repetition and small changes—not just big events,” he explains.
Each of the four March girls represents a distinct ideal:
While Jo is often praised as a proto-feminist figure—refusing marriage proposals and chasing a writing career—Daniel points out that Alcott ultimately bowed to societal pressure by marrying her off.
“There’s independence in Jo’s character, but the story still circles back to convention,” he says.
Little Women places a strong emphasis on virtue, self-denial, and traditional female roles. One particularly pointed moment comes when Meg asserts that a woman’s highest calling is to be a wise wife and nurturing mother. Jeremy doesn’t hold back in his critique.
“It reads like a domestic playbook wrapped in a novel,” he says.
They also call out the novel’s overly sanitized handling of difficult moments. Even Beth’s death—arguably the most tragic event in the book—is treated with quiet acceptance rather than emotional upheaval.
“There’s no messiness,” Jeremy observes. “It’s heartbreak without the heartbreak.”
The conversation eventually turns to Little Women’s place in the broader literary canon. Compared to darker, more psychologically complex novels like Frankenstein or Blood Meridian, Alcott’s work can seem overly simplistic.
Daniel acknowledges that the novel was written for a specific time and audience—particularly young girls in the post-Civil War era who found comfort and identity in the March sisters.
“If you grew up with this story, it becomes more than literature—it becomes personal,” he reflects.
Jeremy, however, remains unconvinced of its literary greatness.
“It shaped a lot of people’s childhoods,” he says. “But influence isn’t the same thing as excellence.”
While both hosts recognize Little Women as a culturally significant work, they diverge on its lasting merit. The discussion raises key questions about nostalgia, gender expectations, and how we define “great” literature.
“It’s an essential book,” Jeremy says. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a masterwork.”
For a thought-provoking breakdown of Little Women, the evolution of feminist storytelling, and why childhood favorites don’t always hold up to adult scrutiny, catch Episode 118 of the Good Scribes Only Podcast.
