Emily Starr never knew what it was to be lonely—until her beloved father died. Now Emily's an orphan, and her mother's snobbish relatives are taking her to live with them at New Moon Farm. She's sure she won't be happy. Emily deals with stiff, stern Aunt Elizabeth and her malicious classmates by holding her head high and using her quick wit. Things begin to change when she makes friends: with Teddy, who does marvelous drawings; with Perry, who's sailed all over the world with his father yet has never been to school; and above all, with Ilse, a tomboy with a blazing temper. Amazingly, Emily finds New Moon beautiful and fascinating. With new friends and adventures, Emily might someday think of herself as Emily of New Moon.
MY THOUGHTS:
This is the first book in a trilogy Lucy Maud Montgomery was anxious to start work on, partly so she could move on from the Anne series she felt herself cornered in for so long. Her new heroine is Emily Byrd Starr, whose beloved father dies of consumption early on, leaving her at the mercy of intimidating relatives from her mother's side of the family. The proud and haughty Murray aunts and uncles disowned their younger sister (Emily's mother), when she eloped with a penniless guy they spurned (Emily's father). They all baulk at the thought of taking on Emily now, and decide to settle the matter by drawing lots. Poor Emily herself is the person forced to draw the slip of paper!
She ends up heading off to New Moon Farm, the ancestral family hub, with spinster aunts Elizabeth and Laura, and disarming cousin Jimmy, who's said to be intellectually compromised after a childhood accident, although we readers are left wondering whether he simply thinks fresher, more original thoughts than the average person. (More about Jimmy here.) Laura is sweet and easy-going but Elizabeth, who rules the roost, is grim and set in her ways, making her one of Emily's biggest trials.
There are strong similarities to the relationship between Anne and Marilla in Anne of Green Gables, yet it's really quite the opposite. While Anne and Marilla come to terms with each other being so essentially different, Emily and Aunt Elizabeth lock horns because they're so similar! They are both stubborn, single-minded, strong-willed individuals who are perceived by others as sharing the same fierce family pride and carrying themselves with the same haughty carriage. In both cases, their eventual warming to each other is very touching.
Emily's main tool to help her cope with change is a rich inner life that atones for the loss of many other things. Her 'flash' is a fascinating phenomenon. It's her name for those sensual moments that provide sudden glimpses of a wider, more wonderful spiritual plane far beyond our own. Her history of everyday triggers is one we can all practice taking on board. It includes 'a high, wild note of wind, a grey bird lighting on her window sill, the singing of "Holy, holy, holy" in church' and her first sudden glimpse of a dormer window in the early evening sky at New Moon. That sort of rich and simple pleasure is available for us all.
Montgomery endows Emily, more than any other heroine, with her own passion for writing. For both Maud and Emily, the sheer necessity of getting things on paper puts it beyond the scope of hobby to an outright calling. Emily needs to empty her soul with her pen so all the emotional dross can be cleared. The solace she gets from reading and writing keeps her on an even keel. Aunt Elizabeth has an old-fashioned suspicion of fiction and wants Emily to stop, but Emily knows she can't possibly obey. Writing is as necessary to her as breathing. It's elemental and cathartic to her soul. I tend to think if Aunt Elizabeth managed to prevail, Emily would be far harder to live with.
Emily's three closest friends provide excellent subplots, because their equally colourful backstories enrich the whole text. (Funnily, they're all only children brought up by single parents, or in Perry's case, it's a great aunt, after his seafaring father passes away.)
First is Emily's BFF, the vibrant and choleric Ilse Burnley whose dad, the local doctor, neglects and resents her for a mysterious reason that's concealed from kids but tacitly understood by all adults. When we finally discover what it's all about, Dr Burnley emerges from the secret looking like a rat in my opinion, although peers from his own era seem to understand where the guy was coming from. I'll say no more and leave you to form your own opinions about him.
Both Burnleys are renowned for their tantrum throwing! It's great fun to read, especially Ilse's colourful insults, but could anyone really get away with such full-on hissy fits without alienating their friends? In the case of Allan and Ilse, people just seem to accept that they're born that way. It seems to me at the very least, both father and daughter are headed for blood pressure and cardio problems if they don't tone it down. Lots of good property is broken or otherwise damaged by being kicked, smashed or pitched out of windows. I do love Ilse though, for her honesty and energy.
Next is the budding artist Teddy Kent, whose intensely brooding and neurotic mother has her apron strings tied so tightly around him, the poor boy can barely breathe. Even though Teddy is loyal enough to say that she's awesome when they're alone, she's a menacing force capable of doing his psyche great harm. Everything she thinks he's too fond of gets destroyed, whether it's pets being drowned or artwork being burned. Because she must have all his love for herself! Seriously, this lady needs help.
And finally, Perry Miller, the hired boy who helps Cousin Jimmy around New Moon! What a lad! He's quick-witted and penetrating with abundant confidence to make up for being born on the wrong side of the tracks. This boy hails from Stovepipe Town, the nearby slum, but has no doubt he could become premier of Canada if he tries hard enough. He's a fabulous example of rising from putdowns. I remember as a kid thinking Perry would be a great match for Emily, but can now see he's far too pragmatic. Emily needs a much artier, head-in-the-clouds type of guy, if you get my drift. (I once wrote a blog post explaining why this boy is one of my favourite LMM heroes. You can find it here.)
I read a suggestion somewhere that Montgomery might have based Emily and her three best friends on the four basic temperaments. Emily is Melancholic, Ilse is Choleric, Teddy is Phlegmatic and Perry is Sanguine. Even though each of them, like most of us, is really more of a mixture, I like this generalisation, although I'm not sure it was intentional on Montgomery's part.
Montgomery's knack for writing elderly ladies shines in this book. Aunt Nancy Priest, her companion Caroline, and Perry's Aunt Tom are all other-worldly wrinklies beyond caring about making good impressions at their stage of life. Old ladies get plenty of awesome lines reflecting the wisdom of having seen the gamut of human nature in their time.
But practically every character is well drawn. Miss Brownell gets my prize for nastiest teacher, Lofty John for meanest practical joke and Dean Priest for creepiest romantic intentions. One of the final impressions we're left with is this thirty-something guy who's biding his time, waiting for a twelve-year-old girl to grow up so he can woo her properly. Yep, Montgomery's setting him up to become one of Emily's serious suitors, and Dean's occasional passion charged comments suggest that he can hardly wait.
But I started with Emily and will finish with her too. Believe me, we have no sunny-hearted, carroty haired Anne here. Emily is a little Gothic chick from her black hair and pallid skin right through to the bone! She has a prickly, cheeky streak a mile wide, and backchat flows so naturally to her tongue that half the time she doesn't even realise. Simply stating that Emily lacks Anne's essential sweetness is an understatement. Sure, Anne blows up at Mrs Lynde and Gilbert for outright insults, but can you imagine her delivering a line such as this one from Emily to Great Aunt Nancy? 'If I was Salome I'd ask for your head on a charger.' In all honesty, I can see why some people, (both inside the story and out), consider Emily a piece of work.
She even lives in a darker, grimmer version of Prince Edward Island than Anne's, to match her Gothic persona. Emily's world is peopled by control freaks like Mrs Kent, perpetual sulkers like Dr Burnley and cynical brooders like Dean Priest. It contains eerie guestrooms with spine-chilling portraits and terrifying four-poster beds. Gruesome things happen to innocent people, like Ilse's mother.
But Emily's flash, devotion to writing, love of cats and openness to being wowed humanises her, and makes me keen to keep re-reading her adventures. Most of all, I admire her self-containment. When her blunt old former housekeeper, Ellen Green, warns her not to cause ripples because she's of no importance, Emily responds, 'I'm important to myself!' Yay, a girl like this will survive the dark, Halloween-y twists her life sometimes takes.
Bring on Emily Climbs!
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