I’ve been rereading Anne of Windy Poplars, because it’s the perfect fall comfort read. Anne moves to a new town, finds a charming tower room in a house with two adorable old ladies and their quirky housekeeper, and proceeds to win the hearts and minds of everyone in Summerside, as she seems to do everywhere she goes. And she chronicles her three years apart from her beloved Gilbert in dozens of letters, which remind me strongly of my emails to J when we were apart for our yearlong engagement.
This time around, I noticed a detail I’d never noticed before, in her first letter to Gilbert:
From the left window in the tower I can see the roofs of the town…this place where I am to live for at least a year. People are living in those houses who will be my friends, though I don’t know them yet.
I had always blithely assumed, in my previous reads, that Anne had planned to spend those three years in Summerside before Gilbert finished medical school and they got married. But reading that phrase (italics above are mine), I realized: she didn’t know, at the outset, how long she’d be there. The fear of resigning at Christmas (when the Pringles plagued her life out), or at the end of a year, was very real. And her musings on a new life with an unknown end date struck a deep chord with me – since I, too, am living in a new life with an unknown end date. We’ll be here a couple of years yet, but I am not sure what lies around the “bend in the road,” either in Boston or after we leave it.
This is one reason I love rereading – noticing these details for the first time, and feeling an entirely new kinship with a character who has long been a good friend. (And, of course, it was deeply reassuring to read about Anne’s three years in Summerside and watch her build a rich, full life there.)
cakes, tea and dreams 
I love your thoughts on this…what a meaningful detail to notice in this reading. That books can take on different meanings and bring new insights is such an interesting and beautiful part of reading and rereading!
I’m not quite sure why, but almost every one of your blog posts bring tears to my eyes. The ones about Oxford, I can diagnose more than others — as much I love my home here in Abilene, there will always be a longing for those sacred days. The others, though, are harder to get at. I think it’s that you reveal an honesty and vulnerability that resonates with me. Anyway, thanks.
Yes, yes, yes, yes. What a lovely, happy post for me to read this morning. I needed it so much to start my week with good thoughts. (It wasn’t going so well this morning with band concerts I didn’t know about and a Halloween party I almost forgot). I also want to pass this on to my less die-hard kindreds who haven’t quite found the joy in this book or Ingleside, which are almost a collection of stories as much as a novel. It took me a few times through the series to love Windy Poplars, but now I so do. And you’re right – it’s just perfect for this season and for the life season you face!
Oh, this is good. I have to pass this link on to my friend Brandi, who’s reading the books for the first time and just finished Windy Poplars. This is the book that stays my favorite because (a) it was my first Anne book and (b) I’ve also done the long-distance thing and OH how you learn to live for neither sharp, stub, nor rusty days.
Some books just don’t bear re-reading. But the ones that do are so incredible. They’re gifts, really. And to consider the point you’re bringing up today, that big question mark about when life would throw her for another loop–oh, Anne. So much toughness at her core. And so much faith.
Happy Halloween, friend. I like to think of you in chilly Boston, looking out an upper window at houses of people you’ll make friends with. It’s been years since I read the Anne books, and I normally don’t re-read, but perhaps I should make an exception. They really are comfort books. Anne is one of the best heroines ever.
This is my least favorite Anne book, but it is still lovely. I just read Anne of Ingleside yesterday!
[…] Windy Poplars revisited […]
It is beautiful to revisit our childhood story books with new insights and older eyes. We marvel at the innocence we had when we first breathed in those pages and how that little child in all of us is still very much alive.
Beautiful post ❤
I’ve been craving a comforting fall read. I finally bought my first Jeeves book over the weekend, but your post makes me long for Anne (or Emily!) and to pull the Wind in the Willows out from the bedside table cabinet.