Category: Retracing the Alpine Path

In preparation for the reread, I read <i>Lucy Maud Montgomery: The Gift of Wings</i> by Mary Henley Rubio.

During Montgomery’s life and for many decades after, she was seen as a woman who lived a fairly straightforward life, but as this biography shows, many of the darker depths of her novels reflect, directly or indirectly, the complex and often unhappy life she read.

Maud was a woman who felt things deeply — both the positive and the negative — and a woman who had great discipline. She could have a public persona of a happy, successful author while writing in her journal of the depths of her misery. I believe that both portraits have some truth. The happy, successful woman was not a lie, but she was only able to exist because Maud had the discipline to compartmentalize her life.

The saddest part of Maud’s story, in my view, is the way that prescription drugs most likely caused much of that misery in their effects on her husband and herself. Ewan MacDonald, Maud’s husband, suffered from depression, as best we can tell, and Maud herself seemed to suffer from anxiety and possibly depression too. Both were given prescription drugs which were fairly standard at the time but which are known now to just make things worse, cause other physical ailments, and are addictive. It doesn’t take much reading between the lines of Maud’s journal and what we know of her life to see that whenever the drug use was heaviest, the problems she and Ewan suffered were worst.

Maud could be a difficult and complex person, but she also had great insight and energy. It is easy to see how such a woman could write novels and stories which seem simple and happy on the surface and have the whole depth of human experience just underneath.

As I go through the reread, I may include relevant biographical bits. When I do, this will be my primary resource.

Remember, this blog is full of spoilers. Today’s post contains very minor spoilers for Anne of Green Gables and Emily of New Moon and a moderately substantial spoiler for Jane of Lantern Hill.

I reread at least one book by L.M. Montgomery every year. Why, despite the academic accusations of shallow sentimentality that were prevalent in the later decades of Maud’s life, do these stories not just charm but draw readers like me back again and again?

Montgomery’s tales have a depth to them that speaks to the joys and sorrows of life. Her novels and stories are generally innocent portrayals with happy endings, but if you dig deeper, you’ll start to notice that the surface happiness is usually backed by sorrow. Anne is an orphan who lived in abusive situations before she was adopted (by a brother and sister who, at first, did not want her). Emily lost her mother and then had to watch her father slowly die before listing him too. Jane’s parents lost a decade of their marriage due to the scheming of a jealous mother. These are not merely happy stories, even if all turns out well in the end. They are stories of people finding love and belonging that they desperately need.

The topics Montgomery covers are small scale: village life, friendship, love, jealousy, forgiveness, independence. But Maud came from a home where an oral tradition of local legends led color and life to the small happenings that make up day to day life. She inherited these storytelling skills, and it infuses her stories with a familiarity that highlights even further the hidden depth behind outwardly dull or happy or indifferent individuals. Sometimes, the depths of our minds are best explore by going just a little off the familiar path. This is the power of L. M. Montgomery.

Welcome kindred spirits!

L. M. Montgomery has been one of my favorite authors for many years. I was fortunate to discover her books in the eighties and nineties when Bantam was republishing her works and Rea Whilmhurst was collecting publishing many of Montgomery’s short stories.

These tales have stuck with me. Simple on the surface, Montgomery had a gift of bringing characters to life. Her happy endings may seem trite until you realize that those happy endings are proceeded by deep sorrows and painful tragedies. Montgomery does not need to describe empty decades to convey their emptiness or bitter arguments to show how they poison happiness. For Montgomery, what was important was the way the human spirit could turn back to meaning and joy, although often with great difficulty.

I regularly find myself delving again into the world created my L. M. Montgomery, whether it is taking a few minutes to read a short story (or ten) or losing a day to get reacquainted with Anne, Emily, Valancy, Rilla, or any of the other characters who helped shape my worldview. This project is a chance for me to revisit Montgomery’s words in a more structured manner. I am going to read and blog through all of her works that I have available to me in publication order.

You are welcome to join me. When available, I will link to the project Gutenberg version of the texts; most of these also are available as free Kindle downloads. Obviously, these links will be more plentiful early on, since Montgomery’s later works are still under copyright.

One final note. I live a busy life, and this project will involve a fair bit of reading. Thus, the posting schedule is going to be irregular. I appreciate your patience.