#lantern hill book club

[mzannthropy]

Maria Weinberg of Canada’s Oaklawn Farm Zoo told Buzzfeed News, ‘I was just going into the lion enclosure to give the lions some pumpkins to play with.” ‘As I was giving the other two lions their pumpkins I look back at Obi and saw he was sitting in the wheelbarrow. Hoping he would stay there long enough [so] I could get the pic, I let him sit there as long as he wanted, and after two or three minutes he jumped out and went and played with the pumpkins.’

Article.

In view of the famous lion chapter of Jane of Lantern Hill, let me share this lion in wheelbarrow with you.

[batrachised]

Starting September 17th, 2023! We'll read one chapter a day. Tag your posts with #Lantern Hill Book Club. You can find the book for free online here.

[the-moral-of-the-rose]

A tribute to the cats of Montgomery's books.

Part 1. Anne Shirley (later: Blythe).

Rusty-the cat (the fighter):

"The animal was well past kitten-hood, lank, thin, disreputable looking. Pieces of both ears were lacking, one eye was temporarily out of repair, and one jowl ludicrously swollen. As for color, if a once black cat had been well and thoroughly singed the result would have resembled the hue of this waif’s thin, draggled, unsightly fur." (Anne of The Island).

"But, like Kipling’s cat, he “walked by himself.” His paw was against every cat, and every cat’s paw against him. One by one he vanquished the aristocratic felines of Spofford Avenue. As for human beings, he loved Anne and Anne alone. Nobody else even dared stroke him. An angry spit and something that sounded much like very improper language greeted any one who did.

“The airs that cat puts on are perfectly intolerable,” declared Stella." (Anne of The Island).

(He does get better looking though! He's said to become "plum and sleek" and his eyes heal!).

A fighter,

Independent,

Daring,

A survivor of an attempt of "chlorophorm murder".

Joseph-the-cat (a big fat softie that could fight if needed):

"Joseph, as the disgusted Stella said, looked like a walking rag-bag. It was impossible to say what his ground color was. His legs were white with black spots on them. His back was gray with a huge patch of yellow on one side and a black patch on the other. His tail was yellow with a gray tip. One ear was black and one yellow. A black patch over one eye gave him a fearfully rakish look. In reality he was meek and inoffensive, of a sociable disposition. In one respect, if in no other, Joseph was like a lily of the field. He toiled not neither did he spin or catch mice. Yet Solomon in all his glory slept not on softer cushions, or feasted more fully on fat things." (Anne of The Island).

"But Joseph rashly sat up and yawned. Rusty, burning to avenge his disgrace, swooped down upon him. Joseph, pacific by nature, could fight upon occasion and fight well. The result was a series of drawn battles. Every day Rusty and Joseph fought at sight. Anne took Rusty’s part and detested Joseph. Stella was in despair. But Aunt Jamesina only laughed." (Anne of The Island).

Joseph-with-a-coat-of-many-colors,

soft bean,

non-offensive,

sweet,

meek and gentle,

could fight if needed.

Sarah-the-cat (dignified queen):

"Sarah-cat gravely sat herself down before the fire and proceeded to wash her face. She was a large, sleek, gray-and-white cat, with an enormous dignity which was not at all impaired by any consciousness of her plebian origin. She had been given to Aunt Jamesina by her washerwoman.

“Her name was Sarah, so my husband always called puss the Sarah-cat,” explained Aunt Jamesina. “She is eight years old, and a remarkable mouser. Don’t worry, Stella. The Sarah-cat never fights and Joseph rarely.” (Anne of The Island).

"Rusty lowered his head, uttered a fearful shriek of hatred and defiance, and launched himself at the Sarah-cat.

The stately animal had stopped washing her face and was looking at him curiously. She met his onslaught with one contemptuous sweep of her capable paw. Rusty went rolling helplessly over on the rug; he picked himself up dazedly. What sort of a cat was this who had boxed his ears? He looked dubiously at the Sarah-cat. Would he or would he not? The Sarah-cat deliberately turned her back on him and resumed her toilet operations. Rusty decided that he would not. He never did. From that time on the Sarah-cat ruled the roost. Rusty never again interfered with her." (Anne of The Island).

Dignified,

Queenly,

Aloof,

A remarkable mouser,

Proud,

Ruler of the Patty's Place.

Such a queen.

Shrimp (best-family-cat):

"He seems to have recovered nicely from it," said Anne, stroking the glossy black-and-white curves of a contented pussy with huge jowls, purring on a chair in the firelight. [...] As for the Shrimp, Gilbert had called him that a year ago when Nan had brought the miserable, scrawny kitten home from the village where some boys had been torturing it, and the name clung, though it was very inappropriate now." (Anne of Ingleside).

Loves people,

good with children,

likes sleeping curled up with a member of his human family,

forgiving,

patient,

a little ray of sunshine.

Pussywillow (a little lady of the night sky):

"The Shrimp basked in the glow and Nan's kitten, Pussywillow, which always suggested some dainty exquisite little lady in black and silver, climbed everybody's legs impartially. "Two cats, and mouse tracks everywhere in the pantry," was Susan's disapproving parenthesis." (Anne of Ingleside).

Pretty,

Black and silver like a night sky,

Purring,

Dainty,

Sweet.

Jack Frost (a girl in hiding):

"Four years previously Rilla Blythe had had a treasured darling of a kitten, white as snow, with a saucy black tip to its tail, which she called Jack Frost. Susan disliked Jack Frost, though she could not or would not give any valid reason therefor.

"Take my word for it, Mrs. Dr. dear," she was wont to say ominously, "that cat will come to no good."

"But why do you think so?" Mrs. Blythe would ask.

"I do not think—I know," was all the answer Susan would vouchsafe.

With the rest of the Ingleside folk Jack Frost was a favourite; he was so very clean and well groomed, and never allowed a spot or stain to be seen on his beautiful white suit; he had endearing ways of purring and snuggling; he was scrupulously honest.

And then a domestic tragedy took place at Ingleside. Jack Frost had kittens!" (Rilla of Ingleside).

White and beautiful,

Clean and well-groomed,

Endearing,

Lovely,

Snuggler and purrer,

Mother of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,

"Diabolical" cat according to Susan.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (a cat suffering from bipolar disorder):

"In his Dr. Jekyll mood the cat was a drowsy, affectionate, domestic, cushion-loving puss, who liked petting [...] When the Mr. Hyde mood came upon him—which it invariably did before rain, or wind—he was a wild thing with changed eyes. The transformation always came suddenly. He would spring fiercely from a reverie with a savage snarl and bite at any restraining or caressing hand. His fur seemed to grow darker and his eyes gleamed with a diabolical light. There was really an unearthly beauty about him." (Rilla of Ingleside).

Orange and handsome,

Either sweet, purring, soft and cute, either dangerous and scary,

Possesed (?),

Some kind of mental illness (?),

A kitten of Jack Snow,

Called Goldie in his kittenhood,

Renamed by Walter.

Part 2. Emily Starr.

Mike the First (the fluffiest softie) and Saucy Sal (a badass girl):

"Mike had such a cute way of sitting up on his haunches and catching the bits in his paws, and Saucy Sal had her trick of touching Emily’s ankle with an almost human touch when her turn was too long in coming. Emily loved them both, but Mike was her favourite. He was a handsome, dark-grey cat with huge owl-like eyes, and he was so soft and fat and fluffy. Sal was always thin; no amount of feeding put any flesh on her bones. Emily liked her, but never cared to cuddle or stroke her because of her thinness. Yet there was a sort of weird beauty about her that appealed to Emily. She was grey-and-white—very white and very sleek, with a long, pointed face, very long ears and very green eyes. She was a redoubtable fighter, and strange cats were vanquished in one round. The fearless little spitfire would even attack dogs and rout them utterly." (Emily of New Moon).

Mike: soft, cute, fluffy, darling, handsome, purring, fat, cuddly.

Saucy Sal: a badass, fighter, brave, daring, sleek, green-eyed, gorgeous.

Smoke (the Aristo-cat):

"Smoke was a big Maltese and an aristocrat from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. There was no doubt whatever that he belonged to the cat caste of Vere de Vere. He had emerald eyes and a coat of plush. The only white thing about him was an adorable dicky." (Emily of New Moon).

Aristocrat,

Dignified,

Member of cat caste of Vere de Vere,

Eyes like jewels,

Dignified,

Beautiful.

Buttercup (a tiny cat-cherub):

"Buttercup was a chubby, yellow, delightful creature hardly out of kittenhood." (Emily of New Moon).

Delightful,

yellow ball of fluff,

cute,

small bean,

adorable.

Mike the Second (a cute furry grey demon of the night):

"Emily’s furry kitten, Mike II, frisked and scampered about like a small, charming demon of the night; the fire glowed with beautiful redness and allure through the gloom; there were nice whispery sounds everywhere. [...] (Emily of New Moon).

A gift from Old Kelly,

Cute, furry,

Charming, plump,

Fluffy,

Rescued by Emily,

A forever kitten,

Gone too soon.

Daffodil - Daff - Daffy (a life-long friend):

“The kitten was a delicate bit of striped greyness that reminded Emily of her dear lost Mikes. And it smelled so nice—of warmth and clean furriness, with whiffs of the clover hay where Saucy Sal had made her mother-nest." (Emily of New Moon).

"Daff," said Emily wearily, "you're the only thing in the world that stays put." (Emily's Quest).

"Don't you wish—or do you!—Daff, that you and I had been born sensible creatures, alive to the superior advantages of Quebec heaters!"(Emily's Quest).

Fluffy,

Grey,

Cute,

Nice,

Adorable,

Emily's friend and companion of her lonely years,

Snored loudly in his sleep during his later years,

Followed Emily everywhere,

My personal favourite.

Part 3. Pat Gardiner

Gentleman Tom (an immortal cat):

"Gentleman Tom sat beside Pat, on the one step from the landing into Judy's room, blinking at her with insolent green eyes, whose very expression would have sent Judy to the stake a few hundred years ago. A big, lanky cat who always looked as if he had a great many secret troubles; continually thin in spite of Judy's partial coddling; a black cat . . . "the blackest black cat I iver did be seeing." For a time he had been nameless. Judy held it wasn't lucky to name a baste that had just "come." Who knew what might be offended? So the black grimalkin was called Judy's Cat, with a capital, until one day Sid referred to it as "Gentleman Tom," and Gentleman Tom he was from that time forth, even Judy surrendering. Pat was fond of all cats, but her fondness for Gentleman Tom was tempered with awe." (Pat of Silver Bush).

Ageless,

Troubled,

Mysterious,

Fascinating,

Full of personality.

Bold-and-Bad (a mad-cat ball of energy):

'"Bold-and-Bad", the kitten of the summer, came flying across the yard to her. Pat picked him up and squeezed some purrs out of him. No matter what dreadful things happened at least there were still cats in the world."

"Even Bold-and-Bad, whom ordinarily nothing could subdue, crouched with an apologetic air under the stove."

"Sure and I will, Patsy darlint. Ye nadn't be fretting over Bold-and-Bad. He's living up to his name ivery minute of the day, slaping on the Poet's bed and getting rolled up in me shate of fly-paper. Sure and ye niver saw a madder cat." (Pat of Silver Bush).

Full of energy,

Mischievious,

Living up to his name,

Bold,

Bad-but-adorable,

Brave,

Unstoppable,

Always young.

Part 4. Valancy Stirling:

Banjo (a devilish philosopher):

"Banjo is a big, enchanting, grey devil-cat. Striped, of course. I don’t care a hang for any cat that hasn’t stripes. I never knew a cat who could swear as genteelly and effectively as Banjo. His only fault is that he snores horribly when he is asleep." (The Blue Castle).

Grey devil cat,

has his own chair,

rules his kingdom of Barney's hut,

a graceful swearer,

dignified,

Good Luck (a wistful philosopher):

"Luck is a dainty little cat. Always looking wistfully at you, as if he wanted to tell you something. Maybe he will pull it off sometime. Once in a thousand years, you know, one cat is allowed to speak. My cats are philosophers—neither of them ever cries over spilt milk." (The Blue Castle).

Dainty,

Wistfull,

Charming,

Enchanting,

Clever,

Interesting.

Part 5. Jane Stuart

Two Peters (little cuties):

"The Snowbeams told Jane their cat had kittens and she could have one. Jane went down to choose. There were four and the poor lean old mother cat was so proud and happy. Jane picked a black one with a pansy face—a really pansy face, so dark and velvety, with round golden eyes. She named it Peter on the spot. Then the Jimmy Johns, not to be outdone, brought over a kitten also. But this kitten was already named Peter and the Ella twin wept frantically over the idea of anybody changing it. So dad suggested calling them First Peter and Second Peter—which Mrs Snowbeam thought was sacrilegious. Second Peter was a dainty thing in black and silver, with a soft white breast. Both Peters slept at the foot of Jane's bed and swarmed over dad the minute he sat down."

"First Peter was sitting on the doorstone when Jane came downstairs, with a big mouse in his mouth, very proud of his prowess as a hunter." (Jane of Lantern Hill).

Cute,

Soft,

Adorable,

Lil hunters.

Silver Penny (small but mighty):

"Ding-dong had brought her a kitten to replace Second Peter...a scrap about as big as its mother's paw but which was destined to be a magnificent cat in black with four white paws. Jane and dad tried out all kinds of names on it before they went to bed and finally agreed on Silver Penny because of the round white spot between its ears." (Jane of Lantern Hill).

Beautiful,

Magnificent,

Adorable.

Part 6. Marigold Lesley

Lucifer and Witch of Endor (a devilish married couple):

"Of course the cats were present at the festivity also. Lucifer and the Witch of Endor. Both of black velvet with great round eyes. Cloud of Spruce was noted for its breed of black cats with topaz-hued eyes. Its kittens were not scattered broadcast but given away with due discrimination. Lucifer was Old Grandmother's favourite. A remote, subtle cat. An inscrutable cat so full of mystery that it fairly oozed out of him. The Witch of Endor became her name but compared to Lucifer she was commonplace." (Magic for Marigold).

Gorgeous,

Soulful,

Fascinating,

Witchy,

Subtle,

Almost human-like,

Clever.

Part 7. Kilmeny of The Orchard.

Timothy-The-Cat (Sir Timothy - the real head of the family):

"They have no living children, but Old Bob has a black cat which is his especial pride and darling. The name of this animal is Timothy and as such he must always be called and referred to. Never, as you value Robert’s good opinion, let him hear you speaking of his pet as ‘the cat,’ or even as ‘Tim.’ You will never be forgiven and he will not consider you a fit person to have charge of the school."

"The other end of the bench was occupied by Timothy, sleek and complacent, with a snowy breast and white paws. After old Robert had taken a mouthful of anything he gave a piece to Timothy, who ate it daintily and purred resonant gratitude." (Kilmeny of The Orchard).

Dignified,

With Royal airs,

Sleek,

Black,

Stunning,

A family member,

A family pride and joy.

I love how every cat has its own little personality!

[thesweetnessofspring]

LMM gets a lot right when it comes to the way a kid's mind works and how events/relationships impact them. We can see that in Jane, who's struggling academically under the stress of the emotional abuse, her parentification, how she tries to sort out if her mother wanted/loved her, dreading spending the summer with her estranged father, feeling the blame of her parents' separation. But also in Phyllis, who lives in a stable home with two parents and is affluent. Phyllis spouts off the grown-up's gossip and excels in school, and the praise she receives fuels her to continue to act as the adults want her to.

I was just thinking today of how people like Shakespeare and Austen get called Geniuses for their writing, and while LMM does certainly get praise, it's usually with a little *for a children's writer addendum. But to be an adult who can look into the soul of a child and write their psychology is also a Genius level literary skill, even if it isn't looked at the same as those who write adult characters.

[redplaidjacket]

This little bit about having an imaginary garden made me smile.

It reminded me of this entry in Maud's journals, where she details all the essentials to an old-fashioned garden.

I had a little fun once and researched all the flowers and plants she mentions.

I wonder what Jane and Jody's garden will look like, and if it will ever be mentioned again.

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

AU game: the grandmother dies when Jane is ten 👀

Five fun facts meme. Interpreted as 'five things that would happen' because I don't know how many of these are, uh, fun. Also it's more than five, because I have no self control.

Jane goes to the funeral, of course. She does not cry. She wears a new dress that Aunt Sylvia bought her, when it became clear that Mother would not be able to pull herself together enough to handle the logistics of preparing her daughter for the funeral. Everyone keeps assuring Jane that the grief she feels is normal, and that she will feel better if she can cry and let out her feelings. She is given a week off school to mourn. Aunt Sylvia offers to let her stay over with them for a few days.

Jane does not tell anyone that, although she does not know the word for what she is feeling, she's pretty sure that grief is not it. She feels very dreadful indeed, that she cannot grieve her own grandmother.

The house on Gay Street seems to have died with Grandmother. Aunt Gertrude fades ever more into the wallpaper. She continues the routine perfectly, almost aggressively. It is as though Grandmother will return at any moment and Aunt Gertrude will not be the one to be scolded by her mother for letting the house go. Mother fades into herself. She stops going out, stops putting on her pretty, expensive clothes, barely leaves her room. She alternates between wild grief and furious merriment, dotes on Jane and refuses to see her each in their turn. Robin is devastated that her mother is dead. Robin is overjoyed that her mother is dead. Robin is finally free. Robin is more trapped than she has ever been.

It's Mary and Frank who keep the house going. Frank runs errands and takes Jane to school and sees to it that she has new clothes when she starts to outgrow her current ones. Mary keeps them fed and stocked and makes sure Miss Robin eats something every day. She lets Jane help her in the kitchen as much as she likes, because the poor child should have something to cling to, with her world in upheaval.

Irene Fraser learns that Victoria Kennedy has died. She makes some rapid calculations and decides that her brother must never know. If he is ever to move on from his youthful mistakes, he must never get wind that there is anything out of the ordinary in Toronto.

But Andrew Stuart bows to no one, and that spring he gets it in his head that he must see his daughter again. Irene tries to talk him out of it, argues and manipulates and, when all else fails, pleads with Andrew to leave the past in the past and let things lie. Andrew will not be swayed. He writes to his wife and demands that she send him their only child. 

Andrew's letter sends the house on Gay Street into renewed chaos. They had just started to claw their way out of the pit, to find a new balance and start living again. Aunt Gertrude continues to live by her schedule, keeping the house spotless and presiding over Jane's evening bible reading. But somehow, without Grandmother, she seems softer. Not more approachable, or kinder, or anything perceptible, but somehow Jane doesn't dread the evening bible session anymore. Mother, meanwhile, is slowly, timidly, starting to emerge from her overwhelming grief. She is fragile still, and rarely gets through the day without crying, but even that seems to soothe her. She doesn't go out, can't bear to face her pretty, glittering friends, not when her feelings are so big and so complicated and so overwhelming, but she resumes some of her correspondence. Jane is still dreadfully worried about her, and conspires with Mary to make all her favorite dishes. She asks Miss West if Jody couldn't come over in the afternoons, after the lunch rush, to sit with Mother and keep her company while Jane is at school, and Mother finds some life back teaching Jody to play the piano and taking her out for nicer clothes. Mary, who sees everything even if she doesn't let on, calls on Miss West and negotiates a fee for Jody's time, so that the poor girl won't find herself punished for wasting time.

When they receive Andrew's letter, they almost lose Robin again. Jane, who is by this point accustomed to thinking of herself as the secret head of the household, takes it upon herself to answer the letter. She shall not go to him, she writes. He has not wanted her until now, and she cannot leave Mother alone in her grief. Please do not write them again.

Andrew does not write to them again. Andrew goes to Toronto and knocks on the door.

It is very ugly, at first. Robin cries. Andrew demands to know why she didn't write to him to say her mother was dead. Robin, in a fit of bravery that could only be fueled by sheer emotional exhaustion, asks why he didn't write to her first, all those years ago, when she left.

The room goes silent. Andrew says he did write to her. Robin says she never got the letter. All three Stuarts, silently and with utter certainty, realize what must have happened to it.

In the end, Jane does go with Andrew to the Island. Andrew invites Robin along too, but she refuses. Better for father and daughter to spend time together without her, since she's had Jane to herself all these years. Privately, she knows that she couldn't bear to exchange so much as one word with Irene Fraser, not when she is so fragile and everything is so new. She and Jane write to each other regularly, and with no forbidden subjects. Jane discovers freedom, true freedom, on the Island, and Robin spends her time doting on Jody and, slowly, venturing out into the world. She wants to be brave for her daughter, wants to have things to write about that won't make Jane worry. To her own surprise, she realizes that, when she can set her own schedule, she does not mind going out. She missed the parties and the socializing, now that she can refuse an invitation when she wants to and choose for herself whether or not to spend an afternoon in. Robin and Andrew slowly get to know each other again, first through Jane's letters and, eventually, through their own correspondence. They continue writing after Jane comes back to Toronto for the fall.

That year, Andrew comes to Toronto for Christmas.

Next summer, Robin and Jody visit the Island for a few weeks.

Slowly, the family heals.

Send me an AU and I'll give you five an amount of things that would happen in it!

[alwayschasingrainbows]

I didn't include Barney Snaith, Gilbert Blythe and Hilary Gordon, because they seem to be the best liked.

Also, I am curious about the results.

[no-where-new-hero]

I know Lantern Hill Book Club finished ages ago but I just now (I know it’s ridiculous) read the last two chapters and here are my two cents.

LMM endings continue to be bizarre and rushed but in the way that Emily’s Quest is, by putting all the doubt of the supposed happily ever after on the last page. The light-headed happiness of Robin and Andrew is legitimate just as Emily’s gladness at marrying Teddy is, but LMM lays out her problems nevertheless. Jane still has to be the interlocutor to her parents which is a dreadful place for an only child to be (not to overshare but I’ve been there and it can be Bad), they all still need to live half the year in Toronto which is far too close to 60 Gay and Grandmother for my liking, and there is absolutely no resolution with the elephant in the room of Aunt Irene. Andrew has his vocation and potentially Robin is growing a spine, but have they grown up enough to talk through things like normal adults?

LMM overuses (imo) the romance novel trope of a misunderstanding leading to alienation—again paralleling Emily and Teddy, Robin and Andrew patch up miscommunication but not incompatibility. That would be a lot for a book of this purview, in some ways, since it is supposed to focus on Jane and Jane’s (occasionally erroneous) POV on situations. But like Emily, it echoes into grown-up issues so deeply that the reader’s urge is to have a grown-up resolution, or maybe a little epilogue. I see why her publishers wanted a sequel at that point.

But I ALSO think it’s telling that LMM didn’t want to write one. I wonder if she didn’t really know how to carry the whole world forward in a satisfying way considering Jody’s exit was a trifle slapdash and both the ideas of a happy Robin-Andrew and a conflicted Robin-Andrew feel painful to delve into. The first one would be dull—LMM thrives, as any good novelist does, on conflict—and the second would just carve out the same dynamic as in this book, only more sordid because there would be no eucatastrophe a second time around. The only way I could see a middle ground is if Grandmother and Aunt Irene conveniently died or if there were a significant time jump, but neither solution were the types of things LMM did. Jane has already become old before her time; I really feel like Maud must have had no more coming-of-age arc to complete without the intense self-identification she had with Emily (writing and mental illness) or Pat (house worship and mental illness).

[the-lily-blooms-late]

Local Man Backs Up Woman For the Worst Reason Possible

[batrachised]

So many of LMM's books take place before WWI that hindsight on the war rarely appears. Excluding TBAQ, I think Andrew might be the only character LMM writes who demonstrates the long term effect of the war. This is a short chapter, but it's heavy--here we once again encounter the deeper issues peeping through the child's perspective.

It's clear, and unsurprising, that Andrew still carries the weight of the war with him. He can't talk about without snapping. I think it's a credit to how safe he makes Jane feel that his savageness doesn't bother her at all, but this response, for all its brevity, is deep. He doesn't want to see any reminder of the war; he views the medal as a hollow token; what's more, his perspective on the war has changed. He implies that young Andrew in the wake of WWI's victory had a very different, much less cynical perspective than the Andrew of a decade or so later. ("Once I was proud of it. It seemed to mean something...")

On a broader level, in my opinion, this reflects LMM's views on the war as a whole. People have discussed how Rilla is a steady beat of the necessity of fighting; meanwhile, TBAQ demonstrably condemns war. WWII rendered the sacrifices of WWI futile, according to TBAQ; everyone is still grappling with its effects years later. As LMM herself would say, the first day of WWI was the death of the old world.

[the-moral-of-the-rose]

Before Jane Stuart conquered the lion, in Anne Shirley's times there had been:

"my Very Brave Aunt. She lives in Ontario and one day she went out to the barn and saw a dog in the yard. The dog had no business there so she got a stick and whacked him hard and drove him into the barn and shut him up. Pretty soon a man came looking for an inaginary lion’ (Query;—Did Willie mean a menagerie lion?) ‘that had run away from a circus. And it turned out that the dog was a lion and my Very Brave Aunt had druv him into the barn with a stick."

Anne of Avonlea by L. M. Montgomery

Willie White’s Aunt being the prototype of Jane Stuart? Or maybe some ancestor?

Anne Shirley was born on 5th of March 1866 - she was sixteen, going on seventeen during the time Willie wrote this letter as a school assignment (it was around 1882). Jane was born year or two after WWI, around 1919-1920 and the "lion accident" happened when she was around 12 (let's say, in 1932). So, at least 50 years later than the letter describing "A Very Brave Aunt"'s herotic act had been written.

Ok, but now imagine: if Willie's Aunt was about 50 when he wrote the letter (I suppose most "Aunts" of LMM's novels tend to be around this age), she'd be born 100 years before Jane Stuart's. So, great-great grandmother of Jane on Andrew's side, maybe ;)?

@batrachised

[thesweetnessofspring]

Your mother married him against my wish and lived to repent it. I forgave her and welcomed her back gladly when she came to her senses. That is all.

Mrs. Stuart seems to be on a bleak path Valancy might have gone down under admittedly very different circumstances (and Valancy with a child would be very different too). Not sure what happened with Jane's parents yet, so I'm curious to see what the backstory is exactly.

[constantvigilante]

I forgot about this and I have to scream a minute because "You've always had too much of your own way"

"TOO much of your own way"

HER OWN WAY

Irene knooooows Victoria Kennedy. Well enough to be her nemesis. She knows she's cold and jealous. She MUST have some inkling that Jane has in fact never had her own way and is still using it against her.

...granted it's to get her to eat breakfast which she really does need a little especially after not eating dinner. But the sweetened manipulativeness of the woman!

[kehlana-wolhamonao3]

My fancasting for Robin Stuart: Lily James. Bonus: as Lady Rose MacClare she's been wearing amazing clothes from a very similar time period :D

[alwayschasingrainbows]

Lucy Maud Montgomery, writing her female characters as the flowers (Tangled Web Readalong):

"Gay, wearing her youth like a golden rose, was so happy, so radiant, as if lighted by some inner flame."(Tangled Web)

"Ilse in a yellow silk gown the colour of her hair and a golden-brown hat the colour of her eyes, giving you the sensation that a gorgeous golden rose was at large in the garden." (Emily's Quest)

To be sure, Rilla was a slim, white-robed thing, with a flower-like face and starry young eyes aglow with feeling;" (Rilla of Ingleside)

"Anne, as she walked along. In her light dress, with her slender delicacy, she made him think of a white iris." (Anne of Island)

"You look like a pansy yourself, Jane...that red-brown one there with the golden eyes." (Jane of Lantern Hill)

"Roses white enough to lie in your white bosom, my sweet, roses red enough to star that soft dark cloud of your hair." (Emily's Quest).

"And I know you look just as much as ever like a creamy rose with gold in its heart." (Mistress Pat)

"Rich, golden-brown hair, elaborately dressed, with a sparkling bandeau holding its glossy puffs in place; large, brilliant blue eyes and thick silken lashes; face of rose and bare neck of snow, rising above her gown; great pearl bubbles in her ears; the blue-white diamond flame on her long, smooth, waxen finger with its rosy, pointed nail." (Blue Castle).