LUCY MAUD, REVISITED

Lucy Maud Montgomery

I TEND TO READ A NUMBER OF BOOKS AT THE SAME TIME, setting down some when I want a change and fully intending to finish them eventually. I just got back from a trip to Vail, and on the plane, I decided to read from the Lucy Maud Montgomery collection I have on my Kindle. I've read all of the Anne books, but I haven't ventured much farther than those. Montgomery was prolific during her lifetime, penning over twenty novels and numerous short stories. I decided to start in on The Story Girl, mostly because I suspected the character of the title might be a reflection of Lucy Maud herself, and because I'm a bit of a 'story girl' myself. Having finished the book (and nearly finished its sequel The Golden Road) the books bring to mind how much the style of prose has changed, and how much I still enjoy the older, slower way of relaying things.

Both books deal with the later childhoods of her several characters, including the Story Girl, who turns out to be more of a talented story-teller and actress (than a writer). As I read them, I found myself questioning the plot, 'where is this going?' only to realize I was running into a slower style than what I pen, what most of my peers write, and what is popular in the present-day. Even my agent used to tell me, 'Action, action, action!' which I took to mean as more drastic occurrences. Which is not to say 'action' does not occur in Lucy Maud's work - it does, but it reflects a slower, simpler time.

And that's part of the beauty of Montgomery's books.

She reflects what life was like one hundred years ago, what morals were like back then, and how my own grandparents lived - the courtesies offered, the standards of polite society expected, the kindnesses and consideration given as a matter of course, the simple ways children entertained themselves. Montgomery's books reflect a much more compassionate time than in what we live today.

She also takes the time to pen really beautiful descriptive prose, something with which I struggle. She gets it right every time. For example (from The Story Girl):

" In the west was a field of crocus sky over which pale cloud blossoms were scattered."
"Around us were solitudes of snow, arcades picked out in pearl and silver, long avenues of untrodden marble whence sprang the cathedral columns of firs."

And finally, one of my favourite quotes, which is heavy on theme and about those things which slip beyond us unless we take the time to read a good book or to remember times and loved ones, past:

"There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way to it. And they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown so old that they forget the way. One bitter day, when they seek it and cannot find it, they realize what they have lost; and that is the tragedy of life. On that day, the gates of Eden are shut behind them and the age of gold is over. Henceforth, they must dwell in the common light of common day. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost past again; and blessed are they above mortals. They, and only they, can bring us tidings from that dear country where we once sojourned and from which we must evermore be exiles. The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland."

Thank you for your gift, Lucy Maud. You've made the world a richer place.

- Susan.

VISITING GREEN GABLES and GETTING TO KNOW LUCY MAUD A LITTLE BETTER

I JUST GOT BACK FROM CHARLOTTETOWN and PEI, which accounts for my lack of posts this week. I had an interesting time, which included the obligatory trip to Green Gables in Cavendish. I wanted to see the house that inspired much of the setting for Anne of Green Gables, written by Lucy Maud Montgomery and published in 1908. As much as I loved reading the Anne books when I was young, I knew better than to be overwhelmed by a house, especially since Green Gables was owned by Lucy Maud's cousins and she never actually lived there. Still, Green Gables is a charming place, surrounded by the lovely countryside of Cavendish. Much of Lucy Maud's descriptions, so evocatively written, reflect it. Of course, I also made the obligatory trip to the gift shop. I eschewed the typical tourist paraphernalia in favour of Montgomery's biography, written by Stan Sauerwein.

I had always thought that Anne was an exceedingly well-written character. She is, but as it turns out, Anne is much more reflective of Lucy Maud than I thought. Maud (as she liked to be known, without the 'e') had a hard, early life, feeling like much of an orphan herself. Her mother died when she was two, and her father, facing bankruptcy, left her in the care of strict grandparents who often reminded her that they took her in out of charity. Later, she endured a step-mother who treated her little better than a servant, forcing her to step in and handle both housework and child-rearing chores. Maud was a sad, lonely, and imaginative child. Her ill treatment also instilled in her a tenacity and an iron will to survive. I read the biography in tandem with re-reading Anne of Green Gables, only to quickly realize that Anne was Maud, herself.

Maud writes about wanting to be a writer for as long as she can remember. And of rejection, and how hard those initial rejections were. And her determination to succeed; I love this particular quote from her biography: "I set my teeth and said, 'I will succeed.' I believed in myself and struggled on alone.... I never told my ambitions and efforts and failures to anyone. Down, deep down, under all discouragement and rebuff, I knew I would arrive someday." As writers, I think we can all relate to that.

I also used to think that our works of fiction didn't necessarily reflect the writer. I felt that belief allowed us some distance, as in - I can write about a horrific murder or rape or what have you, and it isn't me. It's just me engaging in 'story'. I no longer think this is true. I think that whatever we write, be it fantasy, or horror, or science fiction, or paranormal - whatever - the work is us. It reflects our demons, our loves, our drives, our attitudes, what we focus on and obsess about - our voice.

Anne is Lucy Maud and Lucy Maud is Anne. They both have a deep love of the natural world, of the quaintness, and limitations, and charm of simple, every-day, down-to-earth people. They also see magic and romance in the commonest of places, which lifts them up from the common.  When you look at your own work, what does it reflect of you? For me, there is passion, darkness, cynicism, grittiness, love, hate, tenacity, and above all else, the need to survive, endure, and celebrate life in vivid, brilliant colours. 

- Susan.