Full disclosure: I was a total book dork as a child (and dork-dork, but that's another story...). I was known for my ability to read for hours at a time, completely unaware of people coming, going, asking me questions, holding a gun to my head, etc. If I could bottle that level of focused joy and sell it, I'd put Adderall out of business.
But this is not some Wordsworthian lament for lost youthful exuberance. I'm just here to marvel that, despite my years of avid, geeky reading, I somehow missed out on the JOY that is Anne of Green Gables. According to my mother, I was a particularly stubborn child - although I remember being nothing but a delight - and at some point in my wayward youth I got it into my head that I did not want to read the books or watch the miniseries and successfully avoided them for well over the next decade.
I'm not upset that I didn't discover Anne of Green Gables earlier - because I'm so bloody delighted to have discovered it now. By the time you're in your 20s - and are, perhaps, closer to 30 than you are to 20 - there aren't too many books that you're delighted to discover. There are books that you're happy to discover, that offer new insights, lessons, ways of thinking; or books that you're always ready to re-read; or books that you're guiltily pleased to discover that may or may not involve tortured relationships with paranormal creatures and/or steamy sex. But there aren't too many books that you can consume as an adult and still feel that giddy, childlike elation of discovery.
Even in this liberated day and age, it's hard to find books that feature heroines who are intelligent, independent, and genuinely likable. (And big in Japan.) Let alone a thoroughly modern woman (albeit one with a rather amusing/quaint-sounding longing for a "bosom friend") who's been around for over a hundred years. And given that her creator, L.M. Montgomery was, by all accounts, a person who struggled with depression, a mentally unstable husband, and who likely committed suicide, it adds a fascinating, barely discernable darkness to the sunny, loving and exuberant character that is Anne.
But let's be honest here. Would I love these books so much if there weren't a man who found Anne faultless in spite of all her faults? Because a smart and sassy heroine is all well and good, but when one is reading this book in one's mid-20s, one might want a little more than that. (And by "one," I mean, "me.") I can't help it - I need to know there's a man who will love this heroine because she's smart and sassy - and to continue loving her in the face of various - necessary but eventually overcome - obstacles. Two words: Gilbert Blythe.
Now, I have to confess, I'm not a huge fan of Gilbert in the miniseries* because every time I look at him, I see Levi Johnston. Look, I really wish that weren't the case, either. After all, Jonathan Crombie predates Levi by several generations - but I guess that's the price I have to pay for discovering Anne of Green Gables a good decade and a half after I was supposed to.
And with that sobering thought, Liz and I are going to (briefly) see how the auburn-tressed Miss Shirley would face the flag.
Liz: You know, I've never read these books, nor seen the miniseries, nor do I know anything about the plot. I was flabbergasted to learn this story takes place in Canada. Really.
Cailey: That's OK. Did you not just read my waxing lyrical about it?
Liz: Yes, but I'm still not really sure how Anne would tear it down. I think she would, but I have no idea how.
Cailey: Well, I mean, I can take it from here.
Liz: It's on my reading list! I promise. Right after I finish Atlas Shrugged.
Cailey: Liz! Holy crap! Are you becoming a Libertarian!? Stop it now!
Liz: No, no, hell no. It's just on my reading list. Along with Tropic of Cancer and I Lost My Love in Baghdad. I've got a bit to get through before I get to Anne and this Gilbert fellow with the interesting hair.
Cailey: Liz...shift her to the top of the list! That list is a weird list, anyway! What is wrong with you?!
Liz: I know, I know. I'm an odd duck. In the meantime...take it away. How would Anne handle the flag?
Cailey: Well, I think she would be coming home from a peaceful walk through Avonlea, during which she gloried in the beauty of nature and Prince Edward's Island.
Liz: I don't know much about the books, but I know I WANT TO GO TO THERE.
Cailey: Right there with you, my (bosom) friend. Yes PLEASE. So...Anne emerges from the fair trees encompassing her dear home when what does she espy?!
Liz: Sweet Stephen Harper, what is that upon GREEN GABLES?!
Cailey: Liz! You're catching on! I'm so proud. Indeed there is a grotesque Nazi flag defiling the Cuthbert home. Anne is horrified! She's always getting into scrapes, but this is exponentially worse than any embarrassing situation she's found herself in before. Accidentally selling her neighbor's cow is nothing compared to this.
Liz: This is no mere quaint Island hullaballo. This is a symbol of all that is vile in the world. The dark to Anne's light. And it is upon her HOME.
Cailey: Anne is not prepared for this. But, endowed with Imagination, she knows she must face it as a heroine would - she must be brave, bold and tear it down!
Liz: So...does she?
Cailey: Well of course! In a frenzy of passion reminiscent of her younger, more impetuous days, she rips it down with a violence that surprises even her and tears it to shreds with her bare hands.
Liz: Wow. Awesome gal. I hope this Gilbert is worthy of her.
Cailey: Oh is he ever!
Liz & Cailey: sigh
*Also, I hate the way they basically wrote him out of the second movie in favor of that overly long boarding school plot where Anne gets a proposal from that skeezy old dude who is at least 30 years her senior.
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