Synopsis from Goodreads.
When Marilla Cuthbert’s brother, Matthew, returns home to Green Gables with a chatty redheaded orphan girl, Marilla exclaims, “But we asked for a boy. We have no use for a girl.” It’s not long, though, before the Cuthberts can’t imagine how they could ever do without young Anne of Green Gables–but not for the original reasons they sought an orphan. Somewhere between the time Anne “confesses” to losing Marilla’s amethyst pin (which she never took) in hopes of being allowed to go to a picnic, and when Anne accidentally dyes her hated carrot-red hair green, Marilla says to Matthew, “One thing’s for certain, no house that Anne’s in will ever be dull.” And no book that she’s in will be, either.
A series of letters.
Dear Jo (aged 11),
Get off The Sims and pick up a copy of Anne of Green Gables and read it now. It will change your life.
Jo (aged 22)
Dear Ms Montgomery,
I would like to take your beautiful prose and drape it over the washing line in my back garden to create a mystical den that only I and my friends may enter.
Who would I have to talk to for this to happen?
Thank you in advance,
I now understand completely why so many young girls (and some not so young girls!) have fallen in love with you over the years.
You are simply marvellous and, even though I’m late to the party, you are making me feel like the guest of honour.
I wish I had met you when I was younger so you could have taught me that it was OK to get lost in daydreams and not feel shy about looking at things a bit differently than other people.
Because you and I and the rest of our kindred spirits really do have the best view.
Lots of love,
Gilbert- Just wanted to take this opportunity to introduce myself. I have a feeling that we’re going to get on splendidly in the future. Oh and I’d never crush your candied heart under my foot, though I’d probably just eat it. – J
It has come to my attention that there are places in this world that are not rife with gangs of delinquents in hoodies, canals brimming with shopping trollies and boys who think it’s acceptable to wear jeggings.
There is a place in this world where a “myriad of bees” hums over orchards with “a bridal flush of pinky-white bloom” and where brooks are heard laughing under the ice. You will not find sullen commuters who think it’s courteous to steal the last Metro in the morning. This is a place where you can drift “luxuriously out on a sea of daydreams” and eat plum pudding instead of a Greggs pasty and where “days slip[ped] by like golden beads on the necklace of the year.”
This place has scope for imagination. (And it also has seasons other than ‘Grim’)
And this place is called Prince Edward’s Island.
Consider this your first warning, Manchester. If you don’t buck up your ideas, you will find yourself less one Mancunian.
Dear Boys who worked in the cocktail bar at Bangor SU about a year and a half ago,
Remember my 21st birthday?
That wasn’t raspberry cordial …. Was it?
– A former student who would like to remain anonymous.