Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter

The popular story of orphaned Pollyanna and the 'glad game'. As soon as Pollyanna arrives in Beldingsville to live with her strict and dutiful maiden aunt, she begins to brighten up everybody's life. The 'glad game' she plays, of finding a silver lining in every cloud, transforms the sick, the lonely and the plain miserable - until one day something so terrible happens that even Pollyanna doesn't know how to feel glad about it. (Source: Goodreads)

My Thoughts
This was the second time that I'd read this book and I enjoyed it. I re-read it for my Classics Club challenge but also because this is the book that the Kindred Spirits book club on Goodreads, which I am member of, was reading in February. The Kindred Spirits decided to read this book, because there seem to be many similarities between the plot of L.M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables and that of Eleanor H. Porter's Pollyanna.

As Pollyanna wasn't an undiscovered terrain for me, I knew what to expect. But this time, I wanted to read it also for the sake of drawing a comparison between the two above-mentioned novels. This is why I'm laying the emphasis of my review on the differences and similarities between Anne of Green Gables and Pollyanna.

The next part of the review may contain spoilers; so, proceed with caution!

Follow Friday: Introduction & AoGG Read-A-Long

If you've read my post about my bookish resolutions for this year, you know that I hope that, in 2013, I will be able to enter at least one read-a-long or readathon. On the other hand, I want to improve my connections with the reading community. I'm following ca. 60 bookish blogs via RSS feed (many of those also on Twitter) and I'm member of seven different book clubs on Goodreads. So, I hear about new read-a-longs or challenges almost every day and have got invitations to bookish events pretty frequently. But of course, I am not able to enter all of those, however much I'd like to. Also, sometimes I miss an event, which I would have loved to join, as for example the 2013 TBR Pile Challenge hosted by Adam over at Roof Beam Reader.

Robinson Crusoe and His Man Friday by John Charles Dollman
via sofi01

About the Depth of Despair and the Joyful Morning

Have you ever been in the depth of despair? Kindred spirits probably know what I'm talking about. As Anne explains to Marilla, upon learning that Marilla doesn't want her to stay at Green Gables, because Anne isn't a boy, the depth of despair is a state of mind when you can't do anything that you usually would.

"You're not eating anything," said Marilla sharply, eying her as if it were a serious shortcoming. Anne sighed.
"I can't. I'm in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the depths of despair?"
"I've never been in the depths of despair, so I can't say," responded Marilla.
"Weren't you? Well, did you ever try to IMAGINE you were in the depths of despair?"
"No, I didn't."
"Then I don't think you can understand what it's like. It's very uncomfortable feeling indeed. When you try to eat a lump comes right up in your throat and you can't swallow anything, not even if it was a chocolate caramel.

(L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, Ch. 3)

I'm a kind of person who completely understands what Anne is meaning. I don't need to try to imagine that because I've often been there... Maybe I'm hypersensitive or too passionate or both, anyways, in the past 3-4 weeks, I've constantly been in the depth of despair, because we learned that our family dog, Sunny, is suffering from spinal disc herniation and must undergo surgery.

(By the way, the whole story had began earlier, back in April 2012, when Sunny and I were taking our regular afternoon walk and a Rottweiler attacked us. It's a breed famous for its aggression, but, regrettably, it's not yet banned from Hungary. Sunny almost died, but, thank God and one of His Angels, in the form of a bodyguard, we were rescued. However, my right hand was seriously injured; I thought I would never be able to play the piano or knit again. And, as we recognised some months later, our Vizsla had been injured more seriously than we first thought.)

Thus, due to the worries about the Sunshine of our life, I wasn't able to eat normal and couldn't even read as usual. I was just browsing my bookcases, searching for some kind of comfort reading, and tried several books to read, but couldn't focus on the text, until I began George Sand's Fadette. That novel turned out to be a real comfort reading. (Review is coming soon...) Nevertheless, our family's Christmas and New Year's Eve weren't too merry, because we knew that Sunny's surgery would take place soon.

Yesterday was the day. And, I was sick worried. We took him to the hospital at 10:00 a.m. and we didn't know anything about him until 3:00 p.m. I just kept praying and praying and hoped that everything will be fine. Later we also learned that our Sunny is feeling better and was also able to walk a bit. But he had to stay at the hospital for the night and we weren't allowed to visit him so that he doesn't become agitated. It's been a hard day's night, believe me.

But, we are thanking God that today at 8:45 a.m., we got back our Sunny safe and sound. Of course, he's having pains, ought to take prescription drugs, and it will take several weeks till he's completely healed. In sum, we are praying together with Anne this beautiful sentence from Psalm 30:

"Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning."

(L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, Ch. 40)

And what about you? Have you ever felt the depth of despair? Were you able to read? And, what kind of books did/do you read in hard times? What are your favourite comfort readings?

The Classics Club: Check-In #1

Autumn is definitely here. Leaves are becoming red, yellow, brown and falling to the ground, migratory birds are leaving, and the days are getting shorter. I am in a melancholy mood, which I try to cure by Vivaldi music and comfort foods, such as Lorraine's Roasted Butternut Squash Soup with Chilli and Ginger, Susan's Savory Sage Riblets with Roasted Fall Veggies, and Nigella's Chestnut Chocolate Pots. (Believe it or not, my doggy too loves squash soup!) But, before everybody's mouth starts watering, let us speak about classics, or rather about my "progress" since my membership in The Classics Club.

Autumn Windows by Timothy Easton

Past: I joined the Club at the beginning of September; hence, my main activity hitherto consisted mainly in establishing this blog, drawing up my reading list, and reading the books on my nightstand, in order to be able to devote myself to this challenge from October onwards. (Btw, I also tried to find a new job and therefore I have read lots of advertises of vacancies and written thousands job applications. My search has been unsuccessful so far...)

Present: Recently, news has come in that Jillian from A Room of One's Own, the founder of the Club, is going to stop blogging and will leave us. I'm very sorry to hear that. I don't know her well and maybe now I won't have the opportunity to get acquainted with her. Nevertheless, I have admired her for her commitment and for making a success of an idea.

As regards my current doings, I happily received my copy of Tom Jones by Henry Fielding, which is the first on my reading list and will probably fill my October, as it is very long (about 850 pages). Now, I can't wait till Sunday when I'll eventually start reading! In the meantime, though, I am still reading John Mullan's What Matters in Austen?, because it was a birthday present, and Agatha Christie's Sleeping Murder, because I've taken up a personal challenge to read all Miss Marple books in the reading order suggested by the official Agatha Christie community website.

I have also created a new shelf in my goodreads account–I have named it "challenge 2". On this shelf I am putting classics that I'd like to read when my first challenge is over (after August 31, 2017) or that I will probably use as substitutes for books on my current list. I mean, there might be some books that I don't want to read after all. I'm particularly afraid of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy because Russian novels are as much heart-breaking as Hungarian. And, having read The Story Girl's review of A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens, I'm not sure about wanting to read that novel either.

Future: I'm hoping for a bright future. Autumn need not necessarily be the time of melancholy and departures. Who knows what autumn is holding for us? I might finish reading my first book for the challenge. I might even find a nice new job. Or, maybe I will have a nice surprise, as Anne had one beautiful autumn afternoon...

"I've come up to ask you to go for one of our old-time rambles through September woods and 'over hills where spices grow,' this afternoon," said Gilbert, coming suddenly around the porch corner. "Suppose we visit Hester Gray's garden." [...]

"Oh, I wish I could," she said slowly, "but I really can't, Gilbert. I'm going to Alice Penhallow's wedding this evening, you know. [...]

"Well, can you go tomorrow afternoon, then?" asked Gilbert, apparently not much disappointed.

"Yes, I think so."

When Gilbert came the next afternoon he found Anne waiting for him [...] She wore a green dress—not the one she had worn to the wedding, but an old one which Gilbert had told her at a Redmond reception he liked especially. It was just the shade of green that brought out the rich tints of her hair, and the starry gray of her eyes and the iris-like delicacy of her skin. Gilbert, glancing at her sideways as they walked along a shadowy woodpath, thought she had never looked so lovely. [...]

The day was beautiful and the way was beautiful. Anne was almost sorry when they reached Hester Gray's garden, and sat down on the old bench. But it was beautiful there, too—[...] golden rod had kindled its fairy torches in the corners and asters dotted it bluely. The call of the brook came up through the woods from the valley of birches with all its old allurement; the mellow air was full of the purr of the sea; beyond were fields rimmed by fences bleached silvery gray in the suns of many summers, and long hills scarfed with the shadows of autumnal clouds; with the blowing of the west wind old dreams returned.

"I think," said Anne softly, "that 'the land where dreams come true' is in the blue haze yonder, over that little valley."

"Have you any unfulfilled dreams, Anne?" asked Gilbert. [...]

"I have a dream," he said slowly. "I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends—and YOU!"

Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was breaking over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.

"I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it again today will you give me a different answer?"

Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining with all the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked into his for a moment. He wanted no other answer.

(L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, Ch. 41)

Autumn Sunlight after Rain, Fontainebleau by Andrew McCallum

Note: The idea of posting our check-ins for The Classics Club on our blogs originates with Jackie from jackiemania. Of course, many club members have followed her since then; I am no exception either.

Book Reviews From The Cherry Tree

Last time I explained my reasons for choosing the title of my blog. To the “race who knows Joseph”, i.e. people who are intimately acquainted with Anne and know her ways perfectly well, it will be pretty obvious what the thing is with my subtitle: “book reviews from the cherry tree”. Nevertheless, let me explain it briefly, just in case there are some people among us who are not that familiar with Anne.

Regrettably, I’ve never been to the Prince Edward Island (it is at the top of my list of “places I must visit before I die”, though), hence I can only assume that the island must be full of cherry trees. This is the only possible explanation I can think of for the prominent place that cherry trees occupy in Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables. It really must be the case since Montgomery’s heroine describes the island—upon arriving at Avonlea and on her way to Green Gables—as follows:

Oh, there are a lot more cherry-trees all in bloom! This Island is the bloomiest place. I just love it already, and I’m so glad I'm going to live here. I've always heard that Prince Edward Island was the prettiest place in the world, and I used to imagine I was living here, but I never really expected I would. It’s delightful when your imaginations come true, isn’t it?

(L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, Ch. 2)

Yet, Anne and we already had our first encounter with a cherry tree before the above scene. When Matthew Cuthbert finally arrives at the train station, Anne, who has been dropped off much earlier, explains to him what she had planned to do, in case Matthew didn’t come as follows:

“I suppose you are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables?” she said in a peculiarly clear, sweet voice. “I’m very glad to see you. I was beginning to be afraid you weren’t coming for me and I was imagining all the things that might have happened to prevent you. I had made up my mind that if you didn't come for me to-night I’d go down the track to that big wild cherry-tree at the bend, and climb up into it to stay all night. I wouldn’t be a bit afraid, and it would be lovely to sleep in a wild cherry-tree all white with bloom in the moonshine, don’t you think? You could imagine you were dwelling in marble halls, couldn’t you?”

(L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, Ch. 2)

Here, do you understand now? The crown of a cherry tree is just the perfect place for imaginary adventures. Therefore, Anne, who loves imaginary adventures, simply must have had her very own cherry tree. Which is why Montgomery “planted” a cherry tree directly at Anne's window, which fact Anne becomes aware of on her very first morning at Green Gables:

It was broad daylight when Anne awoke and sat up in bed, staring confusedly at the window through which a flood of cheery sunshine was pouring and outside of which something white and feathery waved across glimpses of blue sky. [. . .] it was a cherry-tree in full bloom outside of her window. With a bound she was out of bed and across the floor. She pushed up the sash [. . .] Anne dropped on her knees and gazed out into the June morning, her eyes glistening with delight. Oh, wasn’t it beautiful? Wasn’t it a lovely place? Suppose she wasn’t really going to stay here! She would imagine she was. There was scope for imagination here.

(L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables, Ch. 4)

This cherry tree, which “adorns herself as a bride for her husband”, is named Snow Queen by Anne and she stays with Anne for a long time. In Anne of Avonlea we also learn that “Anne liked to sleep with her window open and let the cherry fragrance blow over her face all night. She thought it very poetical” (L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea, Ch. 24).

I think there is even a symbolic meaning behind the death of the Snow Queen. It happens in Anne of the Island and Anne learns of this sad event upon returning to Avonlea.

She came down from the porch gable on the evening of her return with a sorrowful face.
“What has happened to the old Snow Queen, Marilla?”
“Oh, I knew you’d feel bad over that,” said Marilla. “I felt bad myself. That tree was there ever since I was a young girl. It blew down in the big gale we had in March. It was rotten at the core.”
“I’ll miss it so,” grieved Anne. “The porch gable doesn’t seem the same room without it. I’ll never look from its window again without a sense of loss.”

(L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, Ch. 39)

But what is more important, the above conversation between Anne and Marilla is taking place shortly before Anne finds out about Gilbert’s being almost fatally ill and recognizes her love for him. As if the loss of the Snow Queen would have marked the beginning of a new era.

So, that’s the story of cherry trees in Montgomery’s series and the explanation for my choosing this “cherryish” design and blog title. Believe me, if I had a garden and a cherry tree in it, I would read my books in or under it. Regrettably, I’m not that lucky. Nevertheless, I can imagine having one and writing my reviews from it...

Anneish Imaginary Adventures

When I was looking for a good title for my blog, for a blog about books I have loved to read and books I haven't,  of course I have had to think about my favourite reads so far. One of my all time favourite books, or rather book series, is Lucy Maud Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables.

I was almost 16, when I first read the series, nevertheless I loved Anne and her adventures. In the 20 years since then, I have read the series countless times, and I am still loving it. I own the whole series in Hungarian and in English and the first book in the series I own in three different editions. So, I think it's fair to say that I'm an Anne addict.

If you've never read Anne's stories, you might wonder why. But, I'm afraid the magic of Montgomery and her heroine cannot be explained easily, and maybe some people will not be enchanted by it anyway. Margaret Atwood wrote an article in The Guardian and has tried to give an explanation, but I think, the best way to find out whether you, like million other, love Anne is to read the books.

Certainly, one of the reasons why I identify myself with Anne is that she shares in my love for reading. Anne loves to read because every new book is a new adventure: you can imagine being anything—from an indian to a queen—and what is more, you can forget about the lemons life gives you...

"I understand now why some men must go to sea," said Anne. "That desire which comes to us all at times—'to sail beyond the bourne of sunset'—must be very imperious when it is born in you. [...] I never see a ship sailing out of the channel, or a gull soaring over the sand-bar, without wishing I were on board the ship or had wings [...] like a gull, to sweep out into the very heart of a storm." 

"You'll stay right here with me, Anne-girl," said Gilbert lazily. "I won't have you flying away from me into the hearts of storms." [...] 

"Doctors who have to be up all night waiting on sick folk don't feel very adventurous, I suppose," Anne said indulgently. "If you had had a good sleep last night, Gilbert, you'd be as ready as I am for a flight of imagination."

(L. M. Montgomery, Anne's House of Dreams, Ch. 8)

So, that's that. Anne and me, we both love imaginary adventures. Hence my blog's title. And what about you? Are you ready for flying with us?