Kilmeny
had been, she knew not where,
And
Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare;
Kilmeny
had been where the cock never crew,
Where
the rain never fell, and the wind never blew.
Anyway,
I digress. Nan, at Letters
From a Hill Farm, really rated this, but I'm not so enthusiastic.
Bits of it were delightful, and Montgomery is excellent on
descriptions of scenery and wildlife, but overall it really, really
irritated me. Our heroine, the beautiful and virtuous Kilmeny is just
too perfect, and lacks the appeal of Anne Shirley. I always find Anne
very endearing and human, but Kilmeny is neither. The novel also
lacks the humour of Anne of Green Gables – not that every novel
needs to be funny, but the occasional laugh would have levened the
mix in this one.
But
what annoyed me most was the notion that that beautiful people are
good and clever, and that foreigners are somehow not quite right, and
a are 'low' and not to be trusted. I know theories like this were
widespread when the novel was published in 1910, but I thought they
were distasteful in the extreme, and there are other novelists
writing at the same time who didn't express such views.
And
I found the hero's obsession with naive, childlike Kilmeny, and his
assertion that he will teach her everything she needs to know was
more than a little disturbing.
Possibly,
at this point I should try and give you a brief synopsis of the book,
otherwise my comments will make no sense whatsoever. So, here goes.
Eric Marshall has just graduated from college, but has no need to
work because he is heir to a fortune and will work in his father's
department store. However, he agrees to help a sick friend by
temporarily taking over as schoolmaster to a small community on
Prince Edward's Island. In the beautiful woods he catches a glimpse
of a beautiful young maiden playing beautiful music on her violin.
She is Kilmeny, who is an orphan and is very beautiful – oh, sorry,
I have already mentioned that, but Eric can only ever love a
beautiful woman (shallow bastard). Anyway, she cannot speak, but
communicates most ably (and beautifully) by writing lengthy messages
incredibly quickly. Brought up by her dour uncle and aunt, who are
brother and sister, Kilmeny has never been to school, and never mixes
with people.
She's
a mysterious figure with a tragic back story dating back to the
months before her birth – for her father discovers his first wife
is not dead, as he thought, but very much alive, and Kilmeny's goes
mad. Well, maybe I exaggerate. She has some kind of breakdown and
becomes very peculiar indeed.
Eric,
who is terribly good looking, and clever, and everything that is
right and honorable, has clandestine meetings with with Kilmeny
because he loves her and she loves him. But there is a fly in the
ointment...
Before
our upright hero can tell Kilmeny's guardians he has been meeting
their niece in secret, and ask for her hand in marriage, Neil, the
son of Italian pedlars who has been brought up by the aunt and uncle
(his mother died and his father ran away) tells on them because he is
love with Kilmeny (are you still with me?). I felt sorry for Neil,
who is portrayed as 'sullen' and 'low', a thoroughly bad lot, because
of his Italian heritage!
Kilmeny
won't marry Eric because she can't speak, and Eric's friend, a
brilliant doctor, believes her muteness is caused by some kind of
psychological disorder, and she may speak if she is shocked into it.
All
ends happily, of course, so there you have it it, a sweet, charming,
romantic fairy tale – only I don't think it is really. None of
the characters really came to life, and Kilmeny and Eric are so
beautiful and perfect and good that it's positively sickening.
And,
as I said before, it's idealogically unsound, even if some of ideas
were prevalent at the time, and there is stuff about children paying
for the sins of their parents which also annoyed me, and it's chock
full of that rather cloying sentimentality which was so popular with
Victorian and Edwardian readers (but not with me).
By the way, downloaded this from Project Gutenberg, and read it on the Kindle, which is not an attractive image, so I've used pictures of book coves to brighten things up a little! And I should mention that Montgomery quotes quite extensively from the poem, and if you want to read it you'll find it here.
It looks like you have some good insights into why you didn't enjoy this book as much. The opinions about foreigners probably just reflects the opinion at the time. I wonder what people in the future will think of our closely-held beliefs.
ReplyDeletePaulita, you are quite right, I think it did reflect opinions of the day, and sometimes that kind of outlook is not so intrusive in an older book,and it doesn't necessarily mean the author held those views, but I felt it struck a jarring note here.
ReplyDeleteI do think that xenophobia was quite pronounced then, and maybe the difference between now and then is that it was not a big deal for anyone to express it. It's still around today - and some places express it more openly than others. I read it over and over again in such writers as Agatha Christie. Even Hercule Poirot is often referred to as a foreigner, and he has to win people over.
ReplyDeleteI expect Kilmeny was so 'perfect' because she had been very sheltered. Really extraordinarily so.
I also think that the family stuff was much more predominant then. People were judged by their parents, and their 'sins.'
I think it read rather like a fairy tale, with a hidden princess and a handsome prince.
I also think there used to be more hope, hope the way Eric expresses it. In the US it is referred to as a 'go to' attitude. I fear it has mostly gone by the wayside when it comes to work and adding something to one's country.
I understand all your objections and annoyances with the work. Really I do. But I still fell under its spell. :<)
Nan, I really wanted to like it lots, because you did such a goo review, and I love Anne of Green Gables, but for some reason it just didn't gel with me - but I will read it again and see if it grows on me!
DeleteI did like Montgomery's description of plants and wildlife - she had such a feel for the place and the landscape - and the secret garden aspect of the tale, with flowers blooming as Kilmeny and Eric's feelings for each other grows. And I found her treatment of the reason for Kilmeny's inability to speak was interesting, and seemed surprisingly modern for its time.
But I agree with you whole-heartedly about Agatha Christie. Lots of her work (not only Poirot) is riddled with xenophobic views, and her attitude towards the 'lower classes' leaves a lot to be desired. It always annoys me intensely, but I still read her, and I will still read more LM Montgomery!
I've not yet read this one, though I recently acquired an old hardcover copy which I've just re-collected from my mother, who enjoys a good dose of L.M. Montgomery occasionally.
DeleteI recently tried to re-read Magic for Marigold, but just couldn't keep going - too sweet & implausible - I'm going through a cynical phase in my reading lately - and I suspect from the review you've given Kilmeny might trigger the same response, but I'll see if it "takes".
And I also love Anne of Green Gables; I think it is far and away the best of LMMs books, and I've read an awful lot of them over the years.
I enjoyed your review, and Nan's as well. My verdict as to which of you I agree the most with shall follow sometime in the future, if all goes well!
~Barb in B.C. (Canadian Book Challenge participant)
Thank you for visiting Barb. I would be interested to read your view of this books. It's not often I disagree with what Nan says - she's one of those bloggers where if they recommend a book I know there's a good chance I will like it.
DeleteI wouldn't bother reading it again! Too many good books you might love out there. :<)
ReplyDeleteHello again, Christine & Nan & everyone else,
ReplyDeleteI've just started "Kilmeny" myself - and I am wondering which one of you I'll ultimately agree with most. Eric has just finished his first week of teaching, and we've just seen the beautiful, dark, sulky youth. The plot thickens!
~Barb