Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott

The women are normal-sized. But, honestly, the false advertising of the title is the only bad thing I have to say about this. Little Women is perfect. It’s funny. It’s dramatic. It’s romantic. It’s sad. It’s good. 

Little Women was never required reading for me in school, so I came to the book on my own, as an adult. That shift in perspective from being a kid who is forced to read it to being an adult who wants to read it is important. Student Dan would have rolled his eyes at this story of sisterhood, but Regular Dan loved it. 

I’ve never seen a film-version of Little Women, but I know there are a few fan-favorites, including the most recent Greta Gerwig adaptation. I might get around to checking that out as soon as I discover a few more hours in the day. (I think there are some extra hours hiding around the backside of the clock, but to get at them one needs a sharp paperclip and magic balm.) 

Jo is easily one of the best characters of classic American literature. She’s smart, tough, witty and you can’t help but root for her by yelling into the book, “You deserve happiness, Jo! And I sure hope none of your sisters die!” 

What more can be said about this? A lot, but I’m not going to write your school report for you. 

If you haven’t read Little Women, it’s not too late…and not just because I’m about to access those extra hours as soon as I get my balm enchanted. The book feels timeless and despite the title, speaks to all audiences, including big men.

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