Anne of Green Gables

This was one of my favorite books growing up.  I honestly feel like I know Anne, I think of her childhood as if I experienced it at least tangentially.  Her relationships with Marissa and Matthew, her romance with Gilbert, her friendship with Diana Barry, all seem real to me.  When my son was diagnosed with croup I immediately thought of how Anne saved the day by treating Diana's little sister. Any time I eat mussels from P.E.I. I think of her.  Consumption (suffered by Ruby), hair dye, Tennyson. puffed sleeves, twins (the family with three sets with whom Anne lived before moving to the Cuthberts'), the Tory party, ipecac, and the spelling Anne vs. Ann all immediately call to mind this book and its sequels.  I can even visualize the exact copy I had as a kid...green hardback with a ribbon to mark my place.  I never enjoyed the sequels quite as much, aside from the knowledge that Anne and Gilbert did get married and have a family together.  To be fair, the original novel was so good it would be hard to top.

Origins

I aim to make this blog about several topics - literature, language, and other things I enjoy.  I suppose there's no better way to start than by quoting Tennyson.  In the modern era he's probably not considered particularly cool (despite being extensively admired by Anne Blythe nee Cuthbert).  Regardless, this is one of my favorite poems, one of the few that's really stuck with me over the years.  I've always been more of a novelophile - perhaps I'm not sophisticated enough to enjoy poetry, but this one in particular is simple and straightforward, but also speaks to me on a deeper level.

Enjoy!

The Dreamer

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

On a midnight in midwinter when all but the winds were dead,

“The meek shall inherit the earth” was a Scripture that rang through his head,

Till he dreamed that a Voice of the Earth went wailingly past him and said:

“I am losing the light of my  Youth

And the Vision that led  me of old,

And I clash with an iron Truth,

When I make for an Age of gold,

And I would that my race were run,

For teeming with liars, and madmen, and knaves,

And wearied of Autocrats, Anarchs, and Slaves,

And darkened with doubts of a Faith that saves,

And crimson with battles, and hollow with graves,

To the wail of my winds, and the moan of my waves

I whirl, and I follow the Sun.”

Was it only the wind of the Night shrilling out Desolation and wrong

Through a dream of the dark? Yet he thought that he answered her wail with a song -

Moaning your losses, O Earth,

   Heart-weary and overdone!

But all’s well that ends well,

   Whirl, and follow the Sun!

He is racing from heaven to heaven

   And less will be lost than won,

For all’s that ends well,

   Whirl, and follow the Sun!

The Reign of the Meek upon earth,

   O weary one, has it begun?

But all’s well that ends well,

   Whirl, and follow the Sun!

For moans will have grown sphere-music

   Or ever your race be run!

And all’s well that ends well,

   Whirl, and follow the Sun!