Yesterday, I finished reading Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery. It was a delightful read (and, yes, it was my first introduction to Anne…I can’t believe I missed out on her perspective all these years), which hit close to home in ways that, at times, made me squirm. Anne reminded me of a combination of my daughter and my red-headed niece, Margot. The dramatic flair, the embellished storytelling. That was fine because she’s a thoroughly likable character, even when she does show her temper because she shows it with such style! It’s as if Life is a performance art and she’s determined to master it.
The part that discomfited me was to see how much in common I had with Marilla, the plain spinster who takes this extraordinary orphan under her wing and, together with her brother, Matthew, determines to raise her well. While I have a good deal more imagination than Marilla, my inclination toward motherhood, I’m afraid, has never been as natural as I would have liked. It was touching and quite a relief, then, to see her soften toward the end. There’s hope for me yet!
As a writer, I couldn’t help noticing the shifts in point of view within scenes or chapters. They weren’t too disconcerting because the story carried me along, but at times I’d be in Anne’s head and then suddenly pulled out into the narrator’s (or 3rd Person POV)…or I’d be in Matthew’s and then Marilla’s, etc. I suppose they weren’t so strict about that kind of thing back in 1908 when the story was written. Even so, the characterization is marvelous and I’m anxious now to read the next in the series, Anne of Avonlea.
This whole experience with shifting POV has got me to thinking again about trying several points of view in my Beirut manuscript. Something along the lines of what Barbara Kingsolver did in The Poisonwood Bible. I’ll admit I’m having a tough time staying in a teenager’s head even though my memories of Lebanon are those of a teenager. Try as I might, I don’t think YA fiction is my genre.
