In Defense of Amy March

Only Florence Pugh and Greta Gerwig could create a character arc so wide, yet so believable, that they turned literature’s least favorite bratty little sister into a practical and unapologetic, if bitter, adult woman who teaches us only fools think beauty is a guarantee of happiness.

Most of us have read the novel Little Women at some point, seen the most recent movie, or both. The most engrossing film made based on the books to date, Greta Gerwig’s vision remains true to the characters’ personalities, and yet makes their choices more understandable to modern audiences. Packed with amazing actresses (even Meryl Streep), great writing, and revealing dialogue, it deserved its Best Picture nom.

Though all the characters were given more agency than ever before, both Pugh and Gerwig deserve accolades for Amy’s journey from careless child to practical woman.

Young Amy

Pugh plays Amy as a child with all the recklessness that is native to the character and to any child who believes she is the center of the universe. The book and film are about sacrifice, but Amy seems the least familiar with it.

Seemingly born with low emotional intelligence, Amy is terrible at “reading the room”, she doesn’t understand that her desires don’t always come first, that she will be held responsible for her actions, and she won’t always be instantly forgiven for her nasty behavior or caustic jokes at the expense of her sisters. The fact that she does not see the insults or herself as caustic, merely honest, only enrages them more. Perhaps some part of you feels akin to Amy; I know I did watching her.

Her worst act, of course, was burning Jo’s book. If you’re a writer, it hits you in the soul. She destroys a year of Jo’s life in retaliation for being denied a trip to the theater (the fact that Laurie is involved is no coincidence). Her equally terrifying and hysterical explanation is that “I wanted to hurt you and writing is the only thing you care about.” Perhaps a more tactful sister would come up with a better excuse, but not Amy, who is honest to the core. Hanging in the air, unspoken is “Why don’t you care about…