Reading the Alphabet: A is for Anne of Green Gables

As I’m getting used to writing regularly again, I thought it would help to start a series or two of posts, to provide structure. So when Amrita, of the fabulous booktube channel Amrita by the Book, did the “A to Z” book tag, I decided to join in. I’m looking forward to highlighting some favorites, as well as a few books I might not think to feature if I weren’t working my way through the alphabet. And it’s only fitting that we start with Anne of Green Gables, a book – and a series – that means more to me than any other.

The Anne books (and the Megan Follows series, of course) have been part of my life for as long as I remember. I’ve always loved the vivid imaginings and lively chatter of young Anne Shirley, and I’ve spent many a happy hour laughing over her “scrapes.” But as an adult, I see so much more with every reread. There is humor, yes, but there is also great beauty and pathos.

There are many wonderful stories in the world and many talented writers, but L.M. Montgomery captures the joys and sorrows, the dignities and indignities of average life like no other. I see the small town folk I grew up among in the people of Montgomery’s Prince Edward Island. I see the awkward and confusing stages of growing up in Anne’s maturation. I recognize the everyday realities of love and grief.

The series follows Anne from her childhood as an awkward, lively pixie of a girl to a quiet and dreamy young woman to a mature mother of seven, but while Anne grows and changes, learning from each new experience, she always remains Anne. She still loses herself in daydreams and revels in the beauty of the world around her.

Her dreams do change as she ages – what Anne Shirley wants from life at eleven is not what Anne Shirley wants at twenty-two or at forty. Like many of us, Anne’s childhood hopes center on daring adventures and dazzling fame, but when she grows up, her life as a wife and mother is not a disappointment. It is, rather, a new dream – smaller in the eyes of the world but grander in her own. And this is what I love so much about Montgomery and these books: the quiet celebration of an ordinary life, showing the value of a life filled with love and work in a community of friends and family.

As a child, I related to Anne’s big dreams and awkward attempts to find her place among people who didn’t always understand her. I laughed and delighted in her adventures. But as I grow older, I see more: I see the subtle ways the characters grow – particularly Marilla’s softening under Anne’s influence and love. And I understand that the beauty of the books is only heightened by Montgomery’s deft understanding of sorrow, not as a thing that blinks in and out of life but that is always present, not always diminishing life’s happiness but adding a subtle counterpoint, a reminder of things past.

“Anne’s horizons had closed since the night she had sat there after coming home from Queen’s; but if the path set before her feet was to be narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it. The joys of sincere work and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship were to be hers; nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or of her ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road!” –Anne of Green Gables

There is a place – and a good one – for stories of grand romance and climbs to dizzying heights. But there is also a place for stories like this, which focus on people living day to day and celebrate the strength and love of ordinary women.

-b