Reading the 20th Century: Anne of Avonlea

Matt Hinrichs
5 min readMay 13, 2018

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Starting this year, I decided to set a personal reading goal: make my way through at least two books published in each decade of the 20th century. The project will encompass both fiction and fact, male and female authors, and even (hopefully) a few non-English-language perspectives. Our second selection delves into the second book in one of the most beloved series ever written, inspired by the idyllic rural Canada of the 1900s.

For any artist, creating a sequel to a popular thing must be the most daunting task in the world. Is it better to follow the tried and true path, giving the fans exactly what they expect? Or would it be wiser to introduce new ideas, twists and turns — thus risking the loyalty of a growing yet fickle audience?

Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery must have dealt with all of those issues (and more) when pondering over where to take her most iconic character, the spunky redheaded orphan girl Anne Shirley. Anne made her first appearance in the memorable Anne of Green Gables (1908), becoming an enormous success all over the world. Montgomery’s follow-up, Anne of Avonlea (1909), arrived in bookstores a brisk thirteen months later. Unlike our current perception of the Anne series as kiddie entertainment, Montgomery intended these books as suitable for both children and adults. For the latter, the setting of late 19th century rural Canada served as pleasant nostalgia for the recent, not-so-industrialized past. With Anne of Avonlea, the author chronicled the lovable Anne as she lurches into adulthood — progressing from gawky teenager into a matured, yet still impetuous, young lady.

Montgomery wrote Green Gables as a self-contained, beautifully realized little world largely centered on Green Gables, the rural Canadian home that little Anne Shirley shares with her caretakers, brother and sister Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert. Anne expands her world in Avonlea, named after the fictional town of Prince Edward Island located on Canada’s Eastern seaboard. Although Matthew had passed away in the climax of Green Gables, Avonlea continues Anne’s carefree adventures with Marilla, along with her true-blue pals Diana Barry and Gilbert Blythe. Plot-wise, the book kinda wafts from one episodic scenario to another, never really building up steam until the final third. Now a headstrong 16 year-old, Anne rises to the challenge of helping Marilla take care of Green Gables and negotiating the foibles of her neighbors (along with the cantankerous Rachel Lynde from Green Gables, another grouch by the name of Mr. Harrison comes into view). Anne also has her hands full with the local elementary school, newly hired as a schoolteacher in charge of kids barely younger than herself. Although the budding romance between Anne and Gilbert has been put on the back burner, there’s still a lot of action with Anne, Gilbert and Diana forming a citizens’ committee to help improve Avonlea — an effort that backfires when Anne accidentally has the town hall painted a gauche, overly bright shade of blue.

“‘After all,’ Anne had said to Marilla once, ‘I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.’”

As with a lot of sequels, Montgomery introduces several auxiliary characters throughout the pages of Avonlea. Most of them are pretty incidental, although there is one notable addition which has stuck in the collective craws of Anne fans for a good 100 years now — Davy Keith. Davy is one of two young children whom Anne and Marilla agree to take in while their mother undergoes health problems. While Davy’s sister, Dora, is a docile little dullard, Davy is a mischievous scamp who enjoys nothing more than finding new, creative ways to torture his gullible sis. He often gets dirty, blithely eats everything in sight and never passes up opportunities to sass his elders — and yet, despite proving time and time again that he’s an unrepentant brat, Anne and Marilla seem to have an unexplained fondness for the boy. They believe that Davy has a spunk and spirit which, with their gentle guidance and attention, can be channeled into making him a solid, responsible adult. Another Anne in the making? Not in the least.

Meanwhile, all this unwarranted attention on bratty Davy leaves Dora out in the cold, rendering the character nothing more than a dim, insignificant cypher of a girl (L.M. Montgomery was as uninspired by Dora as Anne and Marilla, apparently). Maybe it was a byproduct of the times, that boys needed more attention than girls due to their higher regard as adults in society. The only thing that stands out to modern readers, however, is that Montgomery dropped the big one with her mistreatment of Dora. For the multitudes of introverted, bookish young girls just becoming enchanted with Anne and her world, this development must have been a heartbreaker. Still, I can easily imagine some creative writer picking up Dora’s story and making her into a badass suffragette, rodeo queen, scientist, explorer, what-have-you.

Despite the intrusion of awful Davy, Anne of Avonlea still holds up as an enjoyable, tremendously evocative read. Sure, the plot is episodic as all get out, but in today’s turbulent times it’s especially calming to read Montgomery’s vivid yet unfussy prose. The author particularly excels at writing conversations in a light, Jane Austen-esque way, while her descriptions of nature sing (“young maples with great feathery ferns beneath them… basking in open sunshine between ribbons of golden-rod and smoke-blue asters”).

Although the gawky, painfully earnest Anne Shirley portrayed in Avonleadoesn’t match the spunky young child in the popular imagination, her growth and budding maturity is interesting to behold. I’m greatly looking forward to checking out the rest of Montgomery’s books in this iconic series.

The edition of Anne of Avonlea I read was the oft-reprinted Bantam Classic trade paperback first issued in 1976 (my particular copy was a 25th printing).Buy at Amazon.com here.

Anne of Avonlea first edition book cover, 1909 (Source: Bauman Rare Books)
Portrait of Lucy Maud Montgomery, doing her stuff (source: Wikimedia Commons)

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Matt Hinrichs

Becoming Rewired. Author and ephemera seeker; blogger formerly known as Scrubbles.net.