Book Thoughts: Anne of Green Gables
““And the coming of Anne – the vivid, imaginative, impetuous child with her heart of love, and her world of fancy, bringing with her color and warmth and radiance, until the wilderness of existence had blossomed like the rose.””
Recently, I decided to read the Anne of Green Gables series. As a child, my mother had always encouraged me to read these books, and I stubbornly refused. She had grown up reading the books, which had been introduced to her by her mother, and eagerly awaited each episode of the subsequent PBS adaptation.
Despite her recommendations, I had tried to read the first book and absolutely hated it. Now, at age twenty-two, I decided to give it another try. And let me tell you - I loved it, loved it like I have not loved a story in a long time. Each day I was bursting with happiness - without exaggeration - simply because I could not wait to get back to the world Lucy Maud Montgomery had created. Because of this, this is less of a book review, and more of a book ramble; after reading, I was absolutely itching to tell everyone I knew about how happy these books had made me, but none of my friends had read them (much to the disappointment of one of my best friends, who had to put up with my daily, chapter-by-chapter updates for all six books).
It all started when my mom and I decided to watch the Netflix (loose) adaptation of the books: Anne with an E. I quickly fell in love, and told my mom about how I loved how feminist they had made Anne, and even her friend, rival, and eventual love interest, Gilbert. I echoed these sentiments when I was talking to an old English teacher of mine, and both her and my mom responded with the same thing: those aspects of the books really didn’t need updating to become more modern and feminist - the originals had done a fairly good job of that from the start.
I was shocked. A children’s book with a strong, female heroine, and a love interest that respects her? That is literally right up my alley. Of course, I immediately got my hands on the books and started reading.
@arielsri: on a quest to find all my friends and talk to them about anne of green gables in excruciating detail
Out of the first six books, what struck me the most was Anne’s strength, vivacity, and imagination. She is so alive that she practically leaps of the page - her hopes and dreams became your own. Despite a rough childhood, she never internalizes that bitterness that can come from experiencing despair; instead, she embraces a different reality, one that she creates herself. She really does seem like the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine - her kindness and charm is evident in every interaction she has with any other character. She forges lifelong friendships, and is always in search of another kindred spirit, never forgetting those that were kind to her.
Anne puts so much of her faith in her friends - in making them, in seeing the best in them. You don’t really see the flaws in those she loves, simply because she views those she loves in such a radiant light. Perhaps this is why it is easy to see how those around Anne fall in love with her so effortlessly - her kindness shines like a beacon.
Of course, there were times when she would be stubborn, refusing to see the truth of her feelings and dealing with them in the most convoluted fashion. And this is where I realized I could not have loved these books as a child - I do not have the hindsight I have now. Throughout the series, you watch Anne reject her feelings for Gilbert, a lifelong doting rival, friend, companion, and eventual husband, in favor of petty competitions and fear for what their relationship is and could be. She also believes in her own fantasies completely; when she is young, she constantly talks about stories and dreams instead of reality. In fact, as a child, she is often so caught up in her own imagination that she embarrasses herself. I see bits of myself in Anne, both in younger versions of myself and who I am now. As a child, I would’ve hated that reflection - I would’ve written her off as annoying, because that’s how I would’ve seen myself. Now, I know myself far better, and find these traits endearing; after all, if I would react in a similar manner to Anne - I can’t really hate Anne for that and still love myself, can I?
I also have a newfound favorite fictional romance: Gilbert and Anne. For Gilbert’s part, he has always been in love with Anne, and it is easy to see why. However, he doesn’t push her out of her comfort zone and respects her boundaries - and though that is simply giving him credit for being a decent human being, it was refreshing to see. He doesn’t get angry when Anne rejects him, doesn’t feel a sense of entitlement over her, but sees her as a wholly capable, smart, and resourceful woman, as one should. Anne also values his friendship, and even though it takes her a long time to consciously acknowledge her feelings for him, Gilbert forces her to reconsider her idea of romance. For so long, she thought true love would be as it is in fiction - a dashing hero who says all the right things at the right times. Anne realizes that romance isn’t an ideal, but rather it’s maybe someone that creeps on you slowly, a steady love that has been there the whole time. As a reader, despite being frustrated at this slow burn, I understood Anne’s perspective - she is such a fantastical and whimsical character that she would expect only one version of romance, and I could hardly blame her for that.
Even when these two are together, as one of my friends so eloquently put it, Gilbert and Anne don’t see each other as another half of themselves. Instead, both of them see the other as a whole human being, one that simply complements them perfectly. Neither Anne or Gilbert believe that they have to lose any part of themselves to belong to each other. Gilbert doesn’t feel the need (as if he would even have the power to) change Anne’s fanciful ways and imagination, but rather is a constant support for her, throughout all her ideas and writing endeavors and pursuit of a career. Anne, in turn, supports Gilbert in those long years he studies to be a doctor. Yet, she still has her own life - she keeps secrets told to her in confidence, and Gilbert feels no need to force her to say them.
These two have such an equal relationship and partnership, and though I do not want to give Gilbert too much credit for acting as someone should, I still consider it rare to see such a realistic, relatable portrayal of a healthy couple.
Anne is exactly the character I needed at this time in my life - she does not always know what her plan is, but maintains a positive outlook and has such a beautiful view of the world. To see her broken broke me, as when she lost one of her children. There is a line about how, after this moment, something in Anne’s smile changed, never to disappear again. This particularly got to me, as after everything Anne had gone through, she bore no bitterness or sadness towards her past, but this, this loss she could not get over. Perhaps it is Anne’s pain and hopes that offers me a refuge in my early twenties - you follow Anne’s journey to adulthood, watching her experience loneliness and embarrassment, doubt and courage, and an uncertainty about life, an emotion I am all too familiar with now. Anne offers me a reflection of myself, and through her, I could see the hope that one day, my world could be a little bit better, if only I could see the world through her eyes once more.
