Don’t let their fictional status overshadow their invaluable lessons.
InterMEDIAte is an exploration of life, and all the things that make it up, through media. No form is superior to another. All belong and deserve to be explored. This is an attempt to be more critical about the media I consume. Media is the mediator between life and human experience.
Anne of Green Gables is my childhood hero. I also know people grew up with Hermione Granger and the likes. These characters were a place of comfort for us and many young people, especially girls. The girls who did well in school, loved reading and were seen as too ‘independent’ for their age. Whereas I met Hermione in Year 7, Anne Shirley had been a staple in my house for decades.
When the world was first introduced to Anne, it was through Lucy Maud Montgomery’s books, in 1908. My grandmother read them so that she could teach it to her primary class. My mum grew up reading it. As did my aunt and cousin. Then came my turn. I, however, first met Anne through a screen. I don’t mourn this, as I read Anne at a time when it meant the most to me.
Before reading the books, I had watched the films countless times. It was a staple in my house. We watched it when there was nothing interesting on TV, when I visited my grandmother’s house in the summer, or simply because we wanted to. Anne of Green Gables defines my childhood, adolescence, and now my time as a student in Oxford.
For around thirteen years, Anne’s life was terrible. She lost her parents and had to live between orphanages and neglectful families. Yet she never lost her spark. When she landed in Green Gables with the Cuthbert siblings she shone brighter than ever. In Avonlea, she found a loving family; her bosom friend, Diana; her eventual husband, Gilbert; and a place where she could allow herself to bloom. Anne’s dream was to progress in her education as far as possible, spend her life teaching, writing, and, most importantly, reading.
Anne’s status as a bookworm is undeniable. In the opening scene of Anne of Green Gables (1985) , we meet Anne walking through a forest, one hand laden with a bucket, the other with a basket, and somehow she is also carrying a book. She is entranced in the story, reading aloud, walking without hurry. That is the dream, I always think, to be able to immerse yourself in a book so that all else becomes background noise. This makes it seem as if I have never enjoyed a book as much as Anne, but I beg to differ.
Reading is a crucial part of me, and not just because my degree is 80% reading. As a child I had a bookshelf. On that bookshelf, plenty of books. Both in Polish and Spanish. They were pieces of and from those I loved the most, my mum, my grandmother, my aunt, my uncle, my cousin. In reception, my school had organised a book swap, where everyone brought in a book of their own, placed it in a big box and exchanged it for a book someone else brought. One rule: you can’t pick your own book out of the box. I was devastated, my master plan was ruined. I would have to leave my precious book behind. Some may say I was a selfish child, I like to think that I simply cherished what was mine and did not see the need in the swapping. Needless to say I was upset. But I recovered. This, to me, foreshadowed my future relationship with books.
My family recently moved houses. I had to pack up my room, the majority of my efforts enveloped in boxing up my books. It was a physical reminder of my love for books, a love which has undergone some turbulent patches, the focus on studying then for A-Levels and currently for my degree has depleted the time I once invested into reading.
While unpacking the books, I came to my beloved Anne of Green Gables series. Every book is a different edition, one is even the American version. As I look at the books next to each other, a Polish saying comes to my mind, ‘każdy z innej parafii’, which literally translates to ‘each from a different parish’. In Polish, it is employed when things close together are so mismatched that it is almost comical that they are together. I think of this saying, but to me, the mismatched books are endearing. I bought them secondhand and I consciously chose them to be from different edition runs. I love how unique they look on my shelf and the texture they provide to my bookcase.
Above all else, every glimpse at the books or rewatch of the series reminds me why I applied to Oxford. Anne is a diligent student, who worked her way up to the top of the class and ended up pursuing her academic dreams. All this at a time when education was generally not easily accessible, with girls facing an additional hurdle due to their gender. I do not live in those times. I have had access to free education all my life and I have the resources to attend one of the best universities in the world. Yet, I still struggle.
Oftentimes I find myself stressing over essays and classwork. I never seem to have enough time. I am constantly behind. I, also, feel that I am an average student. I don’t necessarily ‘excel’ in my academics, but I get by. This year I am beginning to see improvement, which brings me hope. Oxford tutors are adamant that they don’t make mistakes when giving out offers. I hope they are right and that I am not their first blunder.
In my first year, imposter syndrome was my most loyal friend. It followed me to lunch. Ate dinner with me. Sat beside me in the library. Stood over my shoulder as I was doing my reading. Ridiculed me as I wrote my essay. In the lead up to my Prelims in Trinity, It constantly woke me up. It forced me awake hours at a time, almost like keeping me hostage. But not Anne. Never Anne.
Anne accompanied me throughout my A-Levels and exam season. I read a bit of the books every night, as a consolation prize. Anne held my hand as we walked to all my exams. She was a comforting place to run to after those destabilising exam halls. But in Trinity last year, I forgot about Anne. It is such a shame and all my fault. I allowed my new friend, imposter syndrome, to overshadow and push my kindred spirit Anne aside.
Anne herself has many kindred spirits of her own, Matthew Cuthbert, her teacher, Diana, Aunt Josephine. I like to think that if I existed in her universe, Anne would also consider me one. But who knows. What I now know is that when imposter syndrome is vying for my full attention, I need to shift at least part of it to Anne. She has been a recurring presence in my life, I met her at such a young age that I can’t pinpoint exactly when.
What I do know is that through Anne’s trajectory, I learnt to appreciate education. I am beyond fortunate to have been raised in a family that has always encouraged learning and reading. When I was young and my mum was working, my grandmother would help with my homework. She didn’t speak Spanish but she was by my side. My mum would take me to the library to return my books and allow me to select my upcoming adventures before quickly dashing off to work. My cousin has given me more book recommendations than I can count. She has not stopped, and I hope she never does. Apart from this she always asks me my opinions and what I think regarding what I read. Her passion for reading led her to choose Polish philology as her degree. Recently, she has given birth to a son, my godson. I hope that I will be able to emulate for him what she is to me, especially in the sphere of learning and reading.
Anne helps me feel gratitude for the fact that I am able to study what I enjoy at the university I dreamed of. This is not to say that it is not hard, but I like to think it is worth it. Studying History at Oxford is peculiar. I had a tutorial about Thomas Wolsey in the college he founded. I pass by the Clarendon building only to be reminded by the Earl of Clarendon, Charles II’s right-hand man. I am a member of Jesus College, the only Elizabethan college.
No one simply studies history at Oxford, one walks amongst it. It comes with its challenges, but I hope that it will be worth it. I think it is given that I am still here, although who knows for how long.
As if Anne has not done enough for me already, her story has been a great unifier for the generation of women in my family. This young girl helps us transcend generational gaps and unites us in front of a TV. As we watch, we share similar reactions about how tragic Anne’s beginnings are, how funny her whimsical imagination can be, how her green hair was a brave choice, how her attempts to ignore Gilbert were a poor attempt to hide her feelings, and these are not all. I feel happy simply thinking about the times I watched it.
To me, Anne of Green Gables is the epitome of girlhood. Both the book and the adaptations, (in my opinion the one with Megan Follows is the best), grasp the complexities of being a girl and then growing up into a woman. The story is filled with moments of laughter, tears, sighs, and all the emotions that define girlhood. This does not mean that only girls and women should read or watch Anne of Green Gables. Everyone can deconstruct the story to gain something. Like I said, I have watched this more times than I can count and I will keep rewatching it for as long as I want.
As I have grown, Anne’s experience of girlhood has led me to reflect on the lives of the women in my family. I am particularly drawn to my grandmother’s life. Sixty-one years separate the years when we were born. Within these years, my grandmother’s education, marriage, the birth of her children, her time as a teacher, her friendships, her sorrows lie. I am privy to some, but not all. I can’t help but think that her life could have unfolded differently, with more merriment and satisfaction. However, as much as I wish that my grandmother had gone on to get a degree, married later so that she could discover herself further, had children at an easier time, I have to be grateful for the path her life took. All these events eventually led to me. In a parallel universe my grandmother lived another life, but there I do not exist even as a thought. All I can do is live a life which would bring joy to my grandmother, and by extension my mum.
Anne Shirley, to you I shall be forever indebted. You have shown me the value of reading, education, whimsy, and being authentic to yourself. I hope the whimsy which adds colour to my life will never leave and that your presence helps me persevere through my academic career.