1936 Club: Anne of Windy Poplars by L. M. Montgomery

While searching for an appropriate book for the 1936 Club, I realized that Anne of Windy Poplars, fourth in the Anne of Green Gables series, was published that year. Six of the books in the series were published from 1908 to 1921, but later in her career, L. M. Montgomery went back and filled in the gaps before and after Anne's House of Dreams; (Anne of Ingleside was published in 1939.)

Anyway, it was an easy choice, especially after my previous read, which was good but a little depressing. I hadn't read any of the Anne books for a few years, so I quickly sped through Anne of Anne of the Island (volume 3) to get caught up with Anne in volume 4. I'm very glad I did because although I enjoyed the third book, I much preferred the fourth. (This post will contain very mild spoilers about Anne's career and love life, but nothing really shocking).

So, our beloved Anne Shirley, spunky orphan from Prince Edward Island, is now a graduate of Redmond College, and has a three-year job as principal of Summerside High School, also on Prince Edward Island. She's engaged to Gilbert Blythe, who is in medical school, and much of the book is Anne's lengthy letters to Gilbert (sadly, no letters from Gilbert to Anne are included). The story begins with Anne looking for lodgings in Summerside. Traditionally, the principal boards with Mrs. Tom Pringle, who has decided not to take lodgers. Anne finds a room boarding at a house delightfully named Windy Poplars, with two widows, Aunt Kate and Aunt Chatty, and Aunt Kate's curmudgeonly yet lovable cousin, Rebecca Dew, who is sort of a housemaid/milkmaid/Greek chorus. Windy Poplars is just the sort of charming, romantic house that would attract Anne, situated on a road called Spook's Lane, with a tower bedroom, across from a graveyard. 

Nice cover, but Anne is far too young -- 

she'd have her skirts down and her hair up if she were the school principal! 

The reason that Mrs. Pringle won't take Anne as a boarder becomes quickly apparent. The Pringles and "half-Pringles" are the dominant family in the area, and they run the show. Before even arriving, they're mad at Anne for having the gall to be hired as principal over one of their own clan, and they are determined to make her life difficult behind her back, though they appear to be kind to her in person, inviting her for dinners, etc. But they undermine her at the school at every turn, especially with the students who are insubordinate, refuse to do homework, play pranks on her at every turn. However, Anne manages to get the better of them when they attempt to sabotage the school play. 

Of course Anne wins them over eventually, with a bit of deus ex machina. (Which is fine).There are also other recurring characters, including Katherine, a prickly co-worker who was also angling for the job; and Elizabeth, a miserable child living next door who seems to have the worst guardians and the loneliest existence in the world. Naturally, Anne's inherent sunny disposition and cockeyed optimism change their lives. 

This volume isn't groundbreaking or particularly exciting as far as Anne's story goes (or in the greater annals of children's literature). Basically, it just seems amusing filler in the Anne chronicles before her marriage. Nothing really happens to Anne other than meeting interesting and eccentric characters in Summerside, or improving the lives of everyone around her. You could even read this as a stand-alone novel if you didn't know anything else about Anne Shirley -- I actually found it easier to read than the previous novel, Anne of the Island (due to the gap in my reading I'd forgotten a lot of the secondary characters and was a bit confused at times).

Still, the fun and quirky characters are what makes this book delightful, if a little too good to be true, sometimes. But it's Anne Shirley and who doesn't need a little unrealistic levity right about now? It's just the thing for a pandemic comfort read, and I will probably finish the rest of the series this year.

In this passage, Anne is taking a tour of the cemetery and getting a little local color from one of the residents: 

The MacTabbs were all handsome but you could never believe a word they said. There used to be a stone here for his Uncle Samuel, who was reported drowned at sea fifty years ago. When he turned up alive the family took the stone down. The man they bought it from wouldn't take it back, so Mrs. Samuel used it for a baking-board. Talk about a marble slab for mixing on! That old tombstone was just fine, she said. The MacTabb children were always bringing cookies to school with raised letters and figures on them. . . scraps of the epigraph. They gave them away real generous, but I never could bring myself to eat one. I'm peculiar that way. 

I'm quite sure I will remember this story the next time I'm rolling out cookie dough!

There are many, many editions out there, and while searching for cover images, I also found this:

Apparently Anne of Windy Poplars was adapted as a 1940 movie! It's not on DVD but you can find clips on YouTube. The full movie may be online somewhere but I wasn't able to find it. I did find a synopsis of the plot on Wikipedia which you can read here, it sounds absolutely terrible. Has anyone seen it? I'd love to know! 

 I'm counting this as my Children's Classic for the Back to the Classics Challenge. And thanks again to Simon and Kaggsy for hosting the 1936 Club! 

Victorian Children Clearly Need Supervision

Also known as The Wouldbegoods by E. Nesbit. Inspired by Better Book Titles, I've decided to title my book reviews to better reflect what I really think about a book. (Also I feel like I need to liven up my reviews a little bit, as they've been feeling a bit stale lately. I may actually go back and retitle some of my previous posts). 

Anyway, The Wouldbegoods is essentially a turn-of-the-century version of Junie B. Jones with better writing -- children who do all the things that real children would like to do, but really know better (one hopes). Published in 1901, this book is full of what I would call Teachable Moments which are hilariously funny. The Bastable children from the delightful book The Story of the Treasure-Seekers have returned in another installment, this time in the country over the summer holidays. Since they can't stay out of trouble in London, the six children been sent to stay in the country with two other children Dennis and Daisy, supervised (in theory) by Albert-Next-Door's-Uncle, the writer, who seems to be so engrossed in his writing he pays little attention to eight children. The children have all vowed to be Good and create a Secret Society called The Wouldbegoods, for which they will do Good Deeds and Help People. Naturally, hilarity ensues because nothing ever goes as planned.

As always, Nesbit's writing as the voice of a child is spot-on:

You read in books about the pleasures of London, and about how people who live in the country long for the gay whirl of fashion in town because the country is so dull. I do not agree with this at all. In London, or at any rate Lewisham, nothing happens unless you make it happen; or if it happens it doesn’t happen to you, and you don’t know the people it does happen to. But in the country the most interesting events occur quite freely, and they seem to happen to you as much as to anyone else. Very often quite without your doing anything to help.

Clearly, Victorian children ran amuk with little or no supervision, and the adults are shocked -- shocked, I say! when they get into all kinds of trouble, much of it requiring vast expenditure to make right. (I suspect family's newfound fortunes from previous book are squandered to pay these bills). The results are often laugh-out-loud funny but also shocking to a modern adult -- there are chapters including stranger danger, a kidnapping, and a loaded firearm! After the first couple of episodes, you'd think that either the adults or the children would start to learn from their mistakes, but this is a book meant for children so nobody does (otherwise, it would make for a very dull story). But I enjoyed the heck out of it and found myself alternately snorting with laughter or yelling "Noooooo!" while reading. 

The Wouldbegoods is sadly out of print, but used copies are available and it's also in the public domain. I've now read six of Nesbit's books for children, and I've decided I really prefer those with little or no fantasy elements. I find the antics of children in our world much more amusing than those in fantasy lands. I also own a copy of Nesbit's book for adults, The Lark, which has been newly reprinted by the Furrowed Middlebrow imprint of Dean Street Press (readily available via Amazon and The Book Depository).  It's making quite a stir in the blogosphere, thanks to the Furrowed Middlebrow blog and also by Simon at Stuck in a Book. I hope it will be equally delightful. 

I'm counting this as my Children's Classic for the Victorian Reading Challenge. 

Mary Poppins by P. L. Travers

"She knew very well that Mary Poppins never wasted time in being nice." 

Growing up, I missed an awful lot of the children's classics -- I read and loved the Narnia series, the Little House books, and the Boxcar children, but I never even read The Wizard of Oz series until I was in middle school (and I skipped the first book, assuming it was just like the movie.  I was quite wrong).  I am now officially adding Mary Poppins to the list of books I regret never reading while I was an actual child.

If you're not familiar with the plot, Mary Poppins is a mysterious, magical nanny that shows up and takes charge of the four Banks children after their Katie Nanna leaves on short notice.  She's not what you'd call warm and cuddly -- she's actually rather short and brusque with the children -- but when Mary is around, wonderful things happen.  The two elder children, Jane and Michael, have fantastic adventures with Mary, including a visit to the zoo at night when the animals are running the place; a tea party held whilst floating up near the ceiling; and a magical trip around the world.

Mary Poppins was never among my favorite Disney movies when I was a kid, and when my own children were born, I didn't enjoy it much more.  It was only after I saw Saving Mr. Banks that I had any read desire to read the book to see how it compares to the movie.  Well, it's far superior -- in fact, there's barely any resemblance to the movie at all, except the famous opening when she comes in with her carpet bag and slides up the bannister; and her evening out with Bert.  It's possible that other elements in the movie are taken from later books in the series, which I haven't read yet, but if you're a fan of the movie, you might be disappointed.  Mr. and Mrs. Banks are barely mentioned, and there are no chimney sweeps in sight.

I also did not realize that this book was revised by Travers back in 1981.  I'd been listening to the audio, and when I have a hard copy, I like to see my progress by comparing it to the print book.  So, I looked in my copy to check my place, and was VERY surprised to see that my current chapter, "Bad Tuesday" was QUITE different -- as in quite racist!

That particular chapter starts out with Michael getting out of the wrong side of bed.  Everything goes wrong all day and he's being very naughty.  They're out on a walk and spot a compass on the ground, and Mary Poppins uses it so they can travel around the world.  In the audio version, they go in all four points of the compass, and visit a polar bear, a macaw, and panda, and a dolphin, and it's quite delightful.  Apparently in the original version it's people, and the visit to Africa is particularly offensive.  But I'm glad to say that the revised version is much better.  

Though I do own a print copy of the book, I mostly listened an audio version, which I just loved.  The reader, Sophie Thompson is one of the most delightful audiobook narrators I've ever encountered.  (Yes, that's the Sophie Thompson who is the sister of Emma Thompson, who played Miss Bates in Emma and Mary Elliot in Persuasion).  She's just perfect for Mary Poppins -- Mary is very no-nonsense, the children are full of wonder, and her accents are spot-on.  I'm planning to read the entire Mary Poppins series, and when I do, I will imagine Sophie Thompson narrating all the rest of the books in my head.

I'm counting this book as my Children's Classic for the Back to the Classics Challenge.

Celebrating Diana Wynne Jones

In honor of the second annual DWJ March, I've written a guest post for Kristen at We Be Reading.  She's posed the question:  What makes Diana Wynne Jones magical?

Well, I don't know about everyone else, but the first thing I thought of was how Diana Wynne Jones is one of the brilliant children's authors whose works really stand the test of time.  To me, she's just as good as J.K. Rowling.  I read my first DWJ book, Dogsbody, years ago when I was in middle school.  I probably picked it up because there was a dog on the cover, and even though I didn't get some of the British slang and references until years later, the story completely transported me.  If you haven't read it, it's one of her first works, and a fantastic book.

Anyway, in Dogsbody, Sirius, the Dog Star, is not just a star, he's a sort of a celestial body personified.  The story begins with Sirius on trial for murder by his peers, and he's sentenced to live a dog's life -- literally -- on Earth, unless he can find a mysterious object called the Zoi.  Otherwise, he'll spend the rest of his natural life as a dog, and die here.

Sirius is reborn as a puppy, and is rescued from drowning and found by a lonely girl, Kathleen.  Kathleen is Irish and is living an almost Cinderella-like existence with some horrible cousins in England, while her father is serving a prison sentence for his involvement with the IRA.  Sirius is renamed Leo and is Kathleen's salvation, and as he grows, he becomes protective and attached to her as he searches for the Zoi.  He becomes torn between his love for Kathleen and his desire to find the Zoi and return to his life as a celestial being.

DWJ is just brilliant at bringing characters to life.  Kathleen is a sad orphan, but not sickly sweet, and the relatives who've taken her in are pretty horrible, rather like the Dursleys in the Harry Potter series.  (Imagine, however, if the main character in Harry Potter never leaves Privet Drive, but is stuck there with a magic dog instead of escaping to the wizarding world of Hogwarts.)

I have an autographed copy of this edition!!  Really!!!

It's a great story and I read it over and over as a child.  I never could find any more books by Diana Wynne Jones -- back then we didn't have inter-library loan, and the bookstores in my town were pretty lame.  I essentially forgot all about Diana Wynne Jones until 2005, when I spotted a copy of Howl's Moving Castle at a bookstore in a Japanese train station when we were stationed there -- I think it was in Kyoto.  Every Japanese train station has a bookstore, but the supply of English-language books is pretty limited.  I'm sure it was only available because the movie version had just been released, though I never got to see it on the big screen.

Anyway, since then I've read lots more Diana Wynne Jones books, and I've reread Dogsbody several times --it's just as good thirty years later!  I'm pleased to see there's a new paperback edition with a brilliant introduction by Neil Gaiman.  It's worth buying just for Gaiman's intro, which is very touching and got me all choked up.  

I'm still trying to finish the complete works of Diana Wynne Jones, but one of the nicest things is that I share her books with my own children.  My youngest is almost twelve and loves Howl, which just thrills me to bits.  To me, any author that you can pass down to a new generation is the definition of magical.

This is cross-posted on Kristin's blog, We Be Reading.

Jacob Have I Loved by Katherine Paterson

Another Newbery winner, an odd one. I was a little apprehensive about this, because my good friend and fellow book blogger Amanda really disliked it (you can read her review here); but a Sherrie, a librarian friend where I volunteer, just loves it.  And I had loved one of Katherine Paterson's earlier books, Of Nightingales that Weep. I read it when I was a youngster and I looooooved it, read it over and over, but by the time Katherine Paterson won the Newbery for this one I had moved on to trashy books like Flowers in the Attic. (Please forgive me -- I did read good stuff too, like Animal Farm and 1984 and Gone with the Wind.).

Anyway, this book sort of intrigued me, because it's all about sibling rivalry (hence, the title): Sara Louise is the older of a pair of 14-year-old twins, and is far outshone by the beautiful, fragile, talented Caroline, who sings like a bird and makes everyone else swoon.  It's about 1940 and they live with their parents and crazy grandmother on a tiny little island off Chesapeake Bay, Maryland, where their father ekes out a living crabbing and fishing and catching oysters and all sorts of Deadliest Catch sorts of stuff.  They are barely scraping by and it seems like every extra cent is spent on paying for music lessons and cab rides and ferry rides to develop Caroline's musical talent.  Even the extra money that Sarah Louise earns goes to Caroline!!!  The fact that she is smart and good and works hard seems lost on everyone.  So, the war starts, a mysterious old gentleman moves back to the island, there are natural disasters, and since they are teens, there are coming-of-age issues and jealousy regarding various males.

This book really intrigued me because growing up I always felt kinda overshadowed by my older sister, who . . . guess what?  Sang like a bird and was the Most Talented Girl in the Whole Wide World.  Or so it seemed. (Talented! Really smart! Lots of friends!)  However -- we were not a) poor fisherfolk on Chesapeake Bay, just middle class people living in a boring Detroit suburb; b) my parents didn't spend every last cent on her; and c) my sister is actually a very nice person and we have always gotten along really well.  So, the parallels end there, though oddly enough, my sister moved to Maryland. To go to music school.  I am not making this up.

Okay, back to the book.  I did really like parts of it -- I thought Paterson did a fantastic job describing life on Chesapeake bay.  I have no desire to go fishing, but I've always liked boats and water -- probably because I grew up trapped in the Midwest.  When I read it, I could practically smell the salt air and the fishiness and hear the sound of the water and all that.  Living on a tiny island sounded sort of interesting compared to my childhood. 

I really felt like most of the characters seemed kind of one dimensional. Caroline didn't seem to have a single redeeming quaility -- didn't anyone notice she just took and took from everyone else because of her "gift???" She didn't seem to contribute one whit while everyone else was slaving away, and just took it all for granted. I wanted Sarah Louise to say hey, what about me? How about a scholarship for ME? She was pretty passive agressive. Her crazy grandmother had all these great lines, like a Greek chorus screeching out what was really going on, but Sarah Louise did nothing. So maybe she deserved to get walked all over.

My biggest issue is that the book seemed really unresolved -- nothing ever happened with her sister, the vague love interest, or her parents -- I was waiting for some kind of confrontation, or for some huge irony, like Caroline dying in a ferry accident on the way to her first performance, or something.   But a lot of plot lines seemed unfinished or thrown together at the end, and in fact, the last five pages or so zip through the rest of her life. And that's the end.  I guess I just I didn't understand the point of the book.  A disappointment.

(Oh, and isn't the cover kind of creepy?  Of course Sarah Louise is the dark-haired twin, and she looks kind of bitter and nasty.  Caroline almost looks like a ghost -- could this be foreshadowing?  Nah.)

Newbery Count: 37/89