A week from Saturday, Kito and I leave for our trip to Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island. To prepare, we're reading Lucy Maud Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, which is set in the fictional town of Avonlea on PEI. Until now I had avoided the novel, mostly in deference to the wishes of my childhood self. My older sister loved the Anne of Green Gables books (there's a whole series) and, especially, the television miniseries adaptation, which the Disney Channel aired on a continuous loop from 1987 to 1991. I found the movie and its sequel dull and interminable and took my sister's fondness for them as yet another symptom of her unfortunate affinity for stories with heroines clad in calico. I preferred books and movies with a little adventure--long journeys, talking animals, anything where you didn't have to watch some plucky young woman learn to sew or churn butter.
My tastes must have grown tamer over the years, however, because I find that I like the book just fine. I mean, sure, I wish Anne would shut the hell up sometimes and there are moments when I think I wouldn't blame Marilla and Matthew one bit if they put her on a train back to the orphan asylum in Nova Scotia. But Green Gables and the Lake of Shining Waters and the white birches and the cherry blossoms and all sound just lovely.
I still refuse to read Little House on the Prairie, though.
Now I am REALLY jealous. I love that you all have become globetrotters. I do not love it when you start picking off places I've always wanted to go to.
Ren
Posted by: Andrew Patner | August 26, 2011 at 06:53 AM