This afternoon, while Ellen took a post-feeding nap, I finished my first Kindle book. More importantly, I finished a book I declared to have read as a young girl. It has been a lie (in my Reading & Writing Education class, sophomore year, as part of my final portfolio) that has haunted me. Why did I have to lie about reading a "series"? Did it make me a more complete reader? While I have, certainly, watched the series' movies countless time and have found many a bosom friend through my shared interest in LM Montgomery's Anne-girl, I had never actually read her books.
Therefore, this past summer as I anticipated the arrival of a daughter and readied her nursery, I unpacked the Anne of Green Gables book collection I've owned since middle school and set them prominently on Ellen's bookshelf. This would be the first book I read aloud to her. Excuse me--the first series. Sure, a re-read would be necessary in another few years before the first viewing of the beloved movies, but somehow the Anne books brought to life the Norman Rockwell "simple childhood" theme I had envisioned for Ellen's room. LM Montgomery did not disappoint. While the interactions between Gilbert and Anne were not as numerous in the book as in the movies, the appropriate romance was still lurking. The final chapter about sorrow is likely the most accurate and beautifully composed thoughts on the subject. One of my favorite quotes
Now, about that Kindle. Is it fair to say I finally read Anne of Green Gables, when I never opened the book nor turned its pages? The Kindle has enabled this only-one-hand-free mother to read when she otherwise wouldn't be able to, so I am thankful, and yet I miss the look of yellowed pages, the feeling of progress seen in the location of the bookmark, and that look of blurred black typeset on the cotton fibers of each page. Some day, when Ellen sits independently or perhaps even curls up under her covers before bedtime, attentively listening to chapter books, we'll probably pull out the bound pages, open the cover, and enter the world of Avonlea, yellow pages and all.
No comments:
Post a Comment