ANNE OF GREEN GABLES

(By L.M. Montgomery) Because this is one of my favorite childhood novels, period, I was surprised—and, I’ll admit, peeved—that several of my book group members who were reading it for the first time (!) didn’t particularly enjoy it. The main complaints seemed to be that (a) it’s long, (b) nothing much happens, and (c) Anne is annoying. I won’t address these sacrilegious claims here—oh, wait, I totally will: (a) not really, (b) many beloved books of this genre (Little House, Ramona, etc.) consist of similar linked chapter-long escapades constructed from the small dramas of everyday life, so the lack of complex overarching plot is hardly unique, plus some of us happen to like quiet, old-fashioned stories, thankyouverymuch, and (c) maybe a little, both also charming and hilarious.

But what’s more interesting to me than how anyone could possibly dislike this book is how my reading of it has changed over time: As a kid, I totally identified with Anne’s rapturously romantic, imaginative view of life—understood the importance of a bosom friend, loved Tennyson, and would definitely have named a pond The Lake of Shining Waters. When I reread it somewhere around college age, I was a bit embarrassed; I skimmed all the long nature descriptions and found Anne silly and irritating. This time around, I found my perspective has shifted; I paid much more attention to the details of the historical and geographical setting, and if I identified with any characters, it was often with the adults in the story, alternately aggravated, amused, and delighted by Anne’s adventures. While there were always parts that made me laugh before (raspberry cordial! The unfortunately Lily Maid!), now I was struck by the fact that this is first and foremost a really funny book, sharing a lot in common with the vintage comedies of manners I enjoy as an adult. I especially developed a love for Marilla I’d never felt in the past (probably aided by the fact that I rewatched the movie and saw Colleen Dewhurst’s sly, warm performance with fresh eyes). However, two things remain unchanged: I still have a crush on Gilbert and I still cry when Matthew dies. I’ll definitely be rereading the rest of the series...as soon as I finish all of L’Engle, that is.