Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Literary Twin

About six nine twelve a long time ago, somewhere or other, I was asked who my literary twin was. And when I say I, I mean that I was part of a large poll that included the question "Who do you feel is your literary twin?"

I don't know what I answered, but whatever it was, I was wrong.

I know I was wrong because I know I didn't answer "Anne Shirley", and there is no question that she and I are the same person, barring hair color. And a BA.

I have just reread four of the eight Anne novels by LM Montgomery, and I giggled as I read, just because I was seeing myself in the pages. Idealistic, dramatic, prone to stopping in the middle of a task because my imaginings had gotten in the way. It's as if someone bottled my childhood character and wrote a book about her.

It isn't even just my childhood character, though. I still imagine things, constantly. Ridiculous things, too, the same as Anne. I am only slightly less vocal about it than she is, and I don't believe I ever kissed a flower.

I even married Gilbert Blythe, although he says his name is Paul.

The funny thing is that, as I have grown up, I see more of Marilla Cuthbert in myself, especially in the way I deal with the children I care for. No-nonsense, firm, not given to flights of fancy EVER. I was a bit appalled at fist, but I'm not altogether sure that it's a bad thing. I just have to be careful to temper the Marilla with the Anne.

I do love reading the Anne books. I feel that, if I could only step through the pages into her world, she and I would be "kindred spirits" together.

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