I received a complimentary copy through BookishFirst and am voluntarily posting a review. All opinions are my own.
So Many Beginnings is part of a series of “Remixed Classics” the publisher, Feiwel and Friends is doing to provide new, culturally diverse lenses to classic stories. And while the starting point for a retelling is typically reverence for the source material, I appreciate Bethany C. Morrow’s frankness about the fact that she didn’t have that personal connection to the story, but took advantage of others’ attachment to it “to trojan horse in a story and history you weren’t checking for otherwise,” even as she faced racist reviews accusing her of “cultural appropriation.”
Because, aside from some of the basic setup with them being four sisters with the same names, the familial relationships at the heart of the story, and somewhat similar (to varying degrees) personalities, and the fact that it’s set during the Civil War, the story is different and more nuanced, so it’s not just taking the original and racebending the cast, as has become the new trend in Hollywood. She sets her story in the Roanoke Island Freedmen’s Colony, something I had not heard of, something she also admits to in her author’s note, attributing it to the culture in the US of protecting the legacies of the people majority-white Americans view as heroes: enslavers and colonizers.
I really liked seeing the subtle ways in which the characters were adapted. Just like in the original, Jo is my favorite, and perhaps the best written of the four. I liked how she writes nonfiction about the Black experience in America, and enjoyed seeing how her ups and downs with that, including a questionable publishing opportunity, parallel the experiences of the original. I also really liked her relationship with Lorie, and their intense, close friendship. Given the intense conversations around whether the original Jo/Laurie should have ended up together, I appreciated how this was done, still allowing Jo to be her own person and exploring the fact that she doesn’t want anything physical with him, but values his companionship.
I also really liked the way Beth’s character was written, with her mysterious illness and the questions around that. I loved how layered it is, what with both the general misunderstanding of chronic illness, plus the way white medical professionals mistreat Black patients with these conditions and accuse them of lying, and then there’s the historical lens where the understanding of medicine was more limited to begin with. I appreciate how it does give her a chance for a happier outcome, as she’s given an opportunity to live her life and pursue opportunities, even if they do lead to her parting from her beloved family.
I had mixed feelings about Meg. I liked the general direction for her at first, as her character has always been the most “traditional,” wanting to marry and have a family. But I was a bit bummed by how this came to pass. She’s interested in someone early on, and it seems they might have a long distance thing, but it doesn’t work out. Then, almost out of nowhere she’s marrying someone else? I did like how some aspects of this relationship paid tribute to the Meg/John relationship of the original, including Jo’s skepticism, but I just wasn’t wild about who she ended up with.
And the reasoning for that romance fizzling out was setup for him to be Amy’s love interest…does Amy ever get a man of her own, or is every version of her destined for a former flame of one of her sisters? I mean, I get it, the guy is wealthy, so it works out for her, and it leaves the new Jo/Lorie arc unaffected. And I do appreciate that Amy makes her terms for their relationship clear, making him prove he wants her, and not just one of the March sisters, which feels like a direct response to some of the criticisms of the original Amy/Laurie pairing, where it seemed like he only chose her because she was Jo’s sister.
This is a beautiful book, containing the heart of what is so beloved in the original, the importance of sisterhood and family, while also excavating and interrogating history through the lens of nostalgia. Whether you’ve read Little Women or not, this is definitely a must-read.
So Many Beginnings is part of a series of “Remixed Classics” the publisher, Feiwel and Friends is doing to provide new, culturally diverse lenses to classic stories. And while the starting point for a retelling is typically reverence for the source material, I appreciate Bethany C. Morrow’s frankness about the fact that she didn’t have that personal connection to the story, but took advantage of others’ attachment to it “to trojan horse in a story and history you weren’t checking for otherwise,” even as she faced racist reviews accusing her of “cultural appropriation.”
Because, aside from some of the basic setup with them being four sisters with the same names, the familial relationships at the heart of the story, and somewhat similar (to varying degrees) personalities, and the fact that it’s set during the Civil War, the story is different and more nuanced, so it’s not just taking the original and racebending the cast, as has become the new trend in Hollywood. She sets her story in the Roanoke Island Freedmen’s Colony, something I had not heard of, something she also admits to in her author’s note, attributing it to the culture in the US of protecting the legacies of the people majority-white Americans view as heroes: enslavers and colonizers.
I really liked seeing the subtle ways in which the characters were adapted. Just like in the original, Jo is my favorite, and perhaps the best written of the four. I liked how she writes nonfiction about the Black experience in America, and enjoyed seeing how her ups and downs with that, including a questionable publishing opportunity, parallel the experiences of the original. I also really liked her relationship with Lorie, and their intense, close friendship. Given the intense conversations around whether the original Jo/Laurie should have ended up together, I appreciated how this was done, still allowing Jo to be her own person and exploring the fact that she doesn’t want anything physical with him, but values his companionship.
I also really liked the way Beth’s character was written, with her mysterious illness and the questions around that. I loved how layered it is, what with both the general misunderstanding of chronic illness, plus the way white medical professionals mistreat Black patients with these conditions and accuse them of lying, and then there’s the historical lens where the understanding of medicine was more limited to begin with. I appreciate how it does give her a chance for a happier outcome, as she’s given an opportunity to live her life and pursue opportunities, even if they do lead to her parting from her beloved family.
I had mixed feelings about Meg. I liked the general direction for her at first, as her character has always been the most “traditional,” wanting to marry and have a family. But I was a bit bummed by how this came to pass. She’s interested in someone early on, and it seems they might have a long distance thing, but it doesn’t work out. Then, almost out of nowhere she’s marrying someone else? I did like how some aspects of this relationship paid tribute to the Meg/John relationship of the original, including Jo’s skepticism, but I just wasn’t wild about who she ended up with.
And the reasoning for that romance fizzling out was setup for him to be Amy’s love interest…does Amy ever get a man of her own, or is every version of her destined for a former flame of one of her sisters? I mean, I get it, the guy is wealthy, so it works out for her, and it leaves the new Jo/Lorie arc unaffected. And I do appreciate that Amy makes her terms for their relationship clear, making him prove he wants her, and not just one of the March sisters, which feels like a direct response to some of the criticisms of the original Amy/Laurie pairing, where it seemed like he only chose her because she was Jo’s sister.
This is a beautiful book, containing the heart of what is so beloved in the original, the importance of sisterhood and family, while also excavating and interrogating history through the lens of nostalgia. Whether you’ve read Little Women or not, this is definitely a must-read.