By Taylor Linn

In order to understand that beautiful French phrase “joie de vivre,” or “zest for life,” one must also have the relative opposite “vivre sans joie,” or “life without zest.” To compare the two, we need look no further than the introductory scene of 2019’s Little Women, the seventh film adaptation of Louis May Alcott’s novel, the chronicle of the coming-of-age of March sisters Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy.

The second-eldest March sister, Jo, stands backlit, mustering the courage to enter the publishing office of Mr. Dashwood and his associates. Jo glides past the all-male staff, each clad in identical uniforms of brown-tinted blacks so crushed they blend into the dark mahogany desks at which the men work. Man chatter in hushed tones amid their rustling papers. Quite a somber scene indeed.

This joyless version of men’s work knows no class boundaries in this late 18th Century period piece. Even the conspicuously wealthy Mr. Lawrence is seen eternally sitting behind a heavy oak wood desk in his mansion, doing much of nothing. His young grandson “Laurie” is no better, alternating between staring blankly out his library window or falling into a drunken stupor on any and all occasions where champagne is present, anything to avoid the mundane existence of a man’s work.

When left to their own devices, the men of Little Women are zestless indeed. In contrast, the essence of the March women’s affectionate sisterhood is immortalized with all four girls cuddling around their mother next to the crackling fire as she melodiously reads their father’s letter.

Like a breath of fresh air into a stale, gloomy room, the five March women enter into Mr. Lawrence and Laurie’s lives, transforming every scene into one of light, energy, and excitement. A most prolific scene occurs when the four little women and their Marmie burst into Mr. Lawrence’s quiet library to rescue an injured Amy. The scene is stylistically the same, except for the rapidly-cut shots of the male actors’s smiles, as soon as they hear the squealing, exclaiming, and giggling rise from the gaggle of women. After their dramatic exit with melodic goodbyes, the sound fades back to the quiet echoing of an untouched cave and a swift “Now back to work!” from Mr. Lawrence.

Alcott’s story also points to women bringing further creativity and fun into the lives of men. Each sister is blessed with her own embodied talent. Meg brings the gift of love and appreciation to temper her husband John’s insecurities. Jo brings the gift of jolly song and theatrics to Laurie. Beth brings the gift of music and memory to Mr. Lawrence with her poignant piano sessions. And young Amy brings the gift of a determined painter who sees the world with beauty to Fred.

Vivre Sans Joie: A ‘Little Women’ Analysis

By Taylor Linn