It’s May 31 at 9:00pm and I am still working on my contribution to the readalong Sarah and I decided to host back in March. I have been writing it in fragments, using my post to respond to the thoughts of others. Today’s writing mostly involves cobbling together my bits and pieces to present to you at the last hour of the last day of May.

In the comments on Sarah’s blog “The Idyllic Island”, we were discussing the disappointment we felt about the perfectness of Jane’s life in Prince Edward Island, and the lack of L.M. Montgomery’s usual knack of keeping the reader enchanted with her story and characters. Our friend Marianne pointed out a few lines from the book that reminded her of her “beloved Anne of Green Gables.” One of the lines she chose–“‘As soon as you hang a picture on a wall,’ said dad, ‘the wall becomes your friend. A blank wall is hostile.’”–reminded me of something I noticed as I was highlighting my favourite lines and passages in Jane of Lantern Hill – I love the way Montgomery anthropomorphizes things. I have always been able to relate to the idea that beloved objects (or living things like trees and pets) have feelings.

My daughter–who is 18-years-old this month–came home from shopping with her friend last week with yet another Squishmallow – a very cute bee with a rainbow belly. I squealed over it like I was 10 years old. Just like I did for all the other cute, squashy things in her life. My daughter pointed out that her friend had to hide her own purchase from her mother so she wouldn’t get a lecture about spending money on things she doesn’t need. (Not that I don’t agree with that sentiment when I put my rational/sensible/grown-up hat on.)

When my nephew was eight, he and his brother were visiting for a few days during the summer and we were playing in the pool. I was about to jump in when my nephew asked me how old I was. I told him I was 47 and he was astounded. He told me I seemed like the youngest one in the house. Younger, even, than my (teenage) children. And I don’t think he was referring to the way I looked.

All of this to say that I remain delighted by Montgomery’s characters who believe that flowers can “burst into bloom” as soon as they hear you coming; that washing can stream “gallantly out against the blue sky”; that the “shabby streets” can listen; that a house can be watching “with a mocking triumphant malice”; that a teakettle dances on the stove when it comes to a boil; that the trees can talk in “some lost sweet language of elder days”; that fields can have “secret moods”; that the darkness outside a window can look in “menacingly”; that the rain can spit and the wind can be lonely; that there can be streets that are “friendly… The houses did not look at each other with their noses in the air. Even the big ones were not snooty. They sat among their gardens, with spireas afoam around them and tulips and daffodils all about their toes”. And, if all of these things can be true, books can feel cozy on a shelf, teacups can feel fulfilled, art can cheer up a house, and Squishmallows can be in need of a good home. These things make me happy, and one of the reasons I love Montgomery’s work so much. Even when it’s not her best work.

I have to reluctantly agree with my friends that Jane of Lantern Hill is not Montgomery’s best work. As I noted in my intro post for the Lantern Hill Readalong, Montgomery was writing Jane of Lantern Hill at a hard time in her life, and it’s not hard to imagine that she was just going through the motions. Although, she did make a concerted effort in this book to contrast the city of Toronto and the province of Prince Edward Island: Toronto being the dark, grim ‘bad guy’ and PEI being the beautiful, nurturing ‘good guy.’ This is likely a reflection of Montgomery’s longing to go home.

When I was young, I had no idea how sad Montgomery was in real life, and I’m glad that I didn’t. But now–although it breaks my heart–it adds a new level of dimension to her writing. When I read her work now, I ask questions like: What was going on in her life as she was writing this? Was she using her writing as an escape from her everyday life? Was she working out her problems and feelings in her stories? Or was she just trying to give her publishers and readers what they wanted?

What if L.M. Montgomery had written a book just for herself – what would it be like?

Thank you to everyone who read along, commented, tweeted, blogged, or just quietly visited. And thank you to Sarah for co-hosting the readalong! Below are the blog posts I’ve gathered. If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know or add your link in the comments.

Bill @ The Australian Legend thought the book was “okay”… “the story made sense and held together well with the right number of ups and downs (and a soppy ending).” I love his description of how the island children felt about Jane: “lots of island children who think Jane is the bees knees.” Montgomery’s protagonists tend to be well-loved by everyone. Sometimes it can feel like a bit much. But they (almost) never let it go to their heads. 🙂

Rebecca @ Bookish Beck: In Rebecca’s review of the book she wonders if this could have been “one of the earliest stories of a child who shuttles back and forth between separated or divorced parents?” There is a lot of talk about divorce, but Jane’s parents didn’t get one for two reasons: 1) you had to travel to the United States to get a divorce, and 2) Jane’s grandmother wouldn’t allow it because it would have been too scandalous. Rebecca also points out that, in the end, both Toronto and PEI have become lovely places to live for Jane and her family. It’s nice to think that, in the end, Jane and Toronto can get along. Finally, what stuck with Rebecca most was “the exploration of how the feeling of being at home (not just having a house to live in) is essential to happiness.” Did Montgomery ever feel at home in Ontario? How might things have been different for her if she’d stayed in PEI where she was happiest?

Laila @ Big Reading Life loved Jane. (Hooray!) “Jane is a winning character and to watch her growth over the course of the novel was delightful. She discovered an affinity for gardening that warmed my heart.” Laila says that LMM’s “mastery of setting” makes her want to visit PEI. Maybe my new blogging goal should be to lure as many of you to Atlantic Canada as I can!

Sarah Emsley, my co-host, posted about Jane of Lantern Hill three times this month. In her first post, Sarah asks questions about the contrast between Toronto and PEI, as well as Jane’s virtuousness. Is it too much? She considers the context of Montgomery’s life at the time she was writing Jane of Lantern Hill, and she compares some of her characters with Jane Austen characters. (Who can resist that?) Sarah was in Germany visiting her sister (who joined us in our readalong) earlier this month, and posted some beautiful pictures of her visit there.

Despite loving PEI with “all her heart”, in her second post, Sarah talks about how the Island’s perfections were “a bit much” – the food, the landscape, the friendly people, and the ease at which Jane fit in and found herself good at everything. Sarah found it “hard to keep track of the assortment of characters who surround Jane and her father in their Island home”. However, Sarah does feel “a deep sympathy” for Jane when she goes back to Lantern Hill and recognizes it as her “spirit’s home”. “My heart breaks for her here, and for her creator, and for anyone who feels trapped in a place that isn’t their true home.” In this post, you’ll find some idyllic pictures of PEI, taken while on vacation. Be sure to read all the way to comments for some interesting perspectives on the book.

Sarah’s third post is a guest post, written by Kathy Cawsey. She writes about returning to favourite children’s books as an adult and the new things we notice when we do. She found herself “noticing the adults far more than the central child” in Jane of Lantern Hill. And she compares her own grandmother with Jane’s. She wonders if Jane would someday realize “that her grandmother really did love her in her own, rather warped, way”. Kathy’s words made me think about grandmother a little more deeply, making me wonder what her life was like and how she ended up so mean-spirited. I love what Kathy writes at the end: “That is my daydream for Jane. An adult daydream of complex, hard joy, rather than simple easy happiness.”

Again, thank you to everyone who joined in in any way! Enjoy a few photos of PEI that my daughters and I took while camping at the National Park.