Girlhood classic

I’ve shared quite a few memories of my favourite girlhood books, but I’m not nearly done yet. Today’s post is inspired by my visit to a book fair a couple of weeks ago. As I wrote earlier, I like to hunt for treasures in the used books' hall there. I found a few wonderful books this time, too, that I didn’t even know I wanted until they were there.

One great find was a 1950 edition of An Old-fashioned Girl by Louisa M. Alcott (1869). It doesn’t have a cover image – it has perhaps had a dust jacket at some point, now gone – and the gilded letters on its red spine have worn off, but that doesn’t matter. It looks and smells just like an old book should. I instantly knew I had to have it so I bought it. And unlike so many impulse buys on fairs, I haven’t regretted buying it and I know I won’t.

An Old-fashioned Girl tells the story of fourteen-year-old Polly Milton, a country girl who comes to visit her cousin Fanny Shaw in town. I’m not entirely sure where; the town is not named, but I think it’s somewhere on the US east coast. Boston, perhaps. The first part of the story consists mostly of incidents where Polly’s country manners clash with those more fashionable of Fanny and her friends. Polly is often tempted to have what they have, but whenever she succumbs she usually learns a lesson on the virtue of simpler lifestyle; many times she teaches that lesson to others too. The latter part of the book returns Polly to the same town as an adult. The Shaw family loses their fortune and Polly has a chance to help them to live a simpler, happier life. She finds her love, too, in the form of Tom Shaw, Fanny’s brother, a former wild boy who has grown into a decent man.

I loved the book and read it many times. When I was younger, I was moved by Polly’s struggles among the mean rich girls. I was particularly taken with the story of bronze shoes the peer pressure makes her buy but then can’t enjoy because she can’t afford to buy Christmas presents for her family. When I was older, it was the romance that I enjoyed most, the misunderstandings and broken hearts.

An Old-fashioned Girl is one of those books that teach you without being preachy. I learned that it was better to be poor and good than rich and mean, and that a suitable suitor needs more than good looks and addresses. They’re not exactly life lessons I’ve needed to live by, but they have stayed with me all these years.

I haven’t read the book in ages, and I’m not sure I’ll read it now that I have it on my shelf. But it’s a book that makes me happy to know that I have. Who knows, the mood might strike me for something sweet and good-natured. Something old-fashioned. Then I’ll know exactly what to read.

On writing about bad books

Should I write about books that I haven’t liked? The question came up today when I read a post by Cory Doctorow. He says that he won’t. According to him, there are too many bad books to bother with and that a list of bad books is less useful than the opposite. He quotes Michael Swanwick who states that it’s useless to publically humiliate bad books, because they’re either overlooked already or well-loved despite being lousy.

So far, I’ve only mentioned books that I’ve liked on this blog – and yes, I did like Anna Karenina too, even though I was disappointed with how it ended. Would the blog be more truthful if I brought up books I’ve disliked too? After all, it is titled ‘All the books that I’ve ever read’. 

What, then, would I consider a bad book? I’ve read books that I’ve found too boring to finish. They haven’t all been mass market copies of genre bestsellers either. I’ve tried and failed to read classics that I’ve picked up solely because I thought I ought to read them. I’ve already confessed on my other blog never having read The Lord of the Rings so that’s safe to mention. It doesn’t mean they’re bad books; they’re simply books that don’t appeal to me.

I’ve read some poorly written books. Since I write urban fantasy and paranormal romances, I naturally read them a lot too. It seems inevitable that such a popular genre produces quite a few weak books. A copy of a copy of a genre favourite is seldom worth mentioning. They fail to engage me in any level and so I write them off as a waste of my time and forget all about them. I doubt I’d be able to write a coherent sentence about any of them if I had to.

I’ve read books that I haven’t liked, because they haven’t behaved as I would have wanted them to. Usually, this has to do with the brilliance of the author, however, so they’re the opposite of bad books. Once I’ve recovered from the upset they have caused, I tend to remember them fondly. Little Women by Louisa M. Alcott is a good example of such a book. Why couldn’t Jo marry Laurie but the boring professor instead? It took a few re-reads before I came to understand the choices the characters made.

It’s very difficult to find a book that I would have actively disliked yet finished. When I first read Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter when I was a little girl, I hated the main character. I found her really annoying. However, a re-read a couple of years later proved to be a different experience and I liked her and the book very much.

When I have disliked a book that I’ve actually finished, it’s because I’ve been disappointed by it. It hasn’t lived up to its promise or the ending has been a let-down; books that carry me through the ups and downs and then drop me. I once read a long fantasy series that failed right at the end so badly that I swore never to read anything by the same author again – and I haven’t. Another example is a cleverly written debut novel that got lost in its ingeniousness, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I came very close to writing a one star review of that one, simply for disappointing me. When the second novel by the same author came out, I didn’t read it.

A good critical review of a bad book has its merits. The author can learn about it, if nothing else. Personally, I’m a lazy reviewer and have only ever reviewed books that I liked. Writing a good review of a bad book is difficult. And if the only purpose of the review is to malign the book, it’s pretty much useless. So I believe I’ll concentrate on books that I’ve liked, even if I’m critical of them. Luckily, there is plenty to choose from. I’ve read many books and liked most of them. I can keep this blog going on for a while.

The enduring appeal of childhood classics

If I had to name one book I really loved as a child – and since this is my blog, I will – it would be Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery. Recommended to me by my mother when I was about seven, it was one of the first big girl books I read. I gobbled it up and proceeded to devour the rest of the series too. And then I read them again. I read the series, or at least parts of it, regularly almost once a year for quite a number of years as I was growing up; I’ve even read it once or twice as an adult. It’s the only series that I’ve returned to so often. So what’s the appeal?

Anne of Green Gables, by L. M. Montgomery

The story of Anne Shirley is familiar to everyone: an orphan with a temper in need of a loving family, adopted by two unmarried siblings. She loves to read, which made it easy for me to identify with her. Despite her humble beginnings, she makes something of herself and grows up to become a well-loved member of the society. And best of all, she wins the heart of the most dashing hero a little girl like me could imagine, Gilbert Blythe. Their story, with its ups and downs, kept me in its grip no matter how many times I read the series and to this day, I think it’s one of the finest love stories ever written.

But there is more to the books too. They depict vividly the rural culture of the late 19th century Canada, which I only learned to appreciate when I was older. There are colourful, well-crafted characters, all described with understanding and love. No one is one-dimensional; even the most hated character finds understanding at some point. What morals the books contain – poor Anne has to endure quite a bit of growing up – never preach. Everything is sprinkled with good humour, and friendships – they are for life.

So is it a wonder I loved the books so much? And I’m not the only one. First published in 1908, Anne of Green Gables is little over a hundred years old, yet it keeps winning new readers.

There are plenty of other childhood classics, quite a few of which are at least as old as Montgomery’s book. After all, only a time can make a classic. Louisa M. Alcott comes to mind as a similar author to Montgomery. I loved her Eight Cousins better than Little Women, though, and read it almost as often as I did Anne of Green Gables. But are there new ones in the pipeline, biding their time to be declared a classic?

Harry Potter was hailed as a saviour when it first came out, as it got not only girls but boys, too, to read. I haven’t read the books more than once, but many children read them over again. As it's only sixteen years since the first book was published, it’s early to say if it’ll hold the interest of future generations. But I think it will.

Harry Potter is a story similar to Anne of Green Gables. Harry, too, is an orphan given a chance for a new life, who refuses to break in a world hostile to him and who grows up to be a respected adult. Friendships are very much the core of the series. You root for Anne and Harry from the beginning, sympathise with them and like them. You also dislike those who are against them; another strong emotion.

The similarities may seem superficial, but there is more: both series appeal to adults as well as children. Montgomery wrote her book for all ages and while Rowling’s book was probably aimed for a younger audience, it can be easily read by adults. They’re not undemanding, easy-to-read stories. They tell the story of what it is to be human in full, life and death, forcing you to think. They make you laugh and cry. You can return to them and discover new things every time. They are well-written and they are not easily forgotten. What more do you need for a classic?

Do you agree: will Harry Potter last, or do you have another suggestion? And what is your childhood classic, the one book you read over again?

Here's a wonderfully romantic montage of Anne's and Gilbert's love story from the 1980s TV series. It contains scenes from the sequel that didn't follow Montgomery's books, but who cares when it so heart-melting.