For some weird reason, I got conned into reading Montgomery's The Blue Castle
. Until I looked that book up, I didn't realize Montgomery also wrote the Anne of Green Gables books
. But since the former was a decent enough book, I figured I should give the latter a try, especially since it is about a red head, and I think all red heads are adorable. I'm still not sure why that is, but I noticed one day that red heads turn my head in a way that no blond or brunette ever did. So, anyway, I read the book.
Anne, it seems, is an orphan who is adopted by mistake by a rather "mature" couple who thought they were getting a boy. They thought about returning Anne, but somehow she managed to talk them out of it. Anne is a big talker. She also has a very undisciplined imagination. There is little in life that doesn't give Anne significant "scope for imagination". One thing that does not, she claims, is cooking. Obviously, she's never been in my kitchen. "What would be fun to put in this recipe?" Then a number of little bottles of one thing and another are sniffed. "What's the worst that could happen?", says the cook as he tosses one thing or another into the mix.
Anyway, Anne is an 11-year old at the beginning of the book and I begin to think I don't much understand 11-year-old girls. Penrod
is an 11-year-old boy
who has an imagination that I understand. Then I realized that I rather liked Emma Graham in Hotel Paradise
(but she'd jumped the shark by Belle Ruin
), Flavia DeLuce in The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie
, and Mary in The Secret Garden
, all three imaginative, 10–12-year-old girls, so it wasn't the girly imagination that befuddled me, just Anne's approach to imagination. Hers was a bit too fantastic, or something.
Still, I got to like the book quite well in the end. If I could hand out +s and -s, I'd give this book a ***+, or perhaps even a ****-. But since I can't do that, it's stuck with a mere ***, which is likely a downgrade because I'm not now and never have been an 11-year-old girl.