4/9 Finished Emily of New Moon, by Lucy Maud Montgomery. An immensely rich book, with many ponderous thematic angles and favorite moments I can only hope to do justice to.
“Elizabeth Murray had learned an important lesson—that there was not one law of fairness for children and another for grown-ups. She continued to be as autocratic as ever—but she did not do or say to Emily anything anything she would not have said or done to [Aunt] Laura had occasion called for it” (326).
Emily Byrd Starr coming to New Moon proves an opportunity for her Aunt Elizabeth, an old maid, to at her age, grow more ‘mature’ morally. At the beginning, Emily was a chore or a nusiance: the Murrays cast lots for her to see who would raise her when her father died. Spirited and feisty, as well as dreamy and imaginative, Emily and her straight-laced Aunt Elizabeth are often in conflict. When Emily gets into trouble for writing poetry during class, Aunt Elizabeth says, “I am sorry to say, Emily, that I have been hearing some very bad things about your behaviour in school today.” But as Emily perceptively, and wittily, replies,
“No, I don’t think you are sorry. I don’t mean to be impertinent, but you are not sorry. You are angry because you think I have disgraced New Moon, but you are a little glad that you have got some one to agree with you that I’m bad.” (174-175)
Then, to worsen matters, Aunt Elizabeth wants to hear only one side of the story. After hearing the unsympathetic teacher, Miss Brownell (who also saw this as a chance for comeuppance, with a disagreeable student), Emily complains,
“It was not as bad as that, Aunt Elizabeth. You see it was this way—“
”I don’t want to hear anything more about it.”
“But you must. It isn’t fair to listen only to her side. I was a little bad—but not so bad as she says—“
“Not another word! I have heard the whole story.”
As far as Aunt Elizabeth is concerned, Emily doesn’t have a side to the story. For her Aunt, children are always subject to search and seizure: she does not respect Emily’s privacy when she keeps writings. Toward the beginning, Emily had to burn an account book filled with imaginative journaling because her aunt insisted on reading everything she wrote. Later, Emily finds a stock of letter-bills, lengthy sheets she can write on the backs of, and often writes letters addressed to her deceased father, as a sort of diary. In heats of passion, she often writes things quite uncharitable about Aunt Elizabeth. For a long time they stay hidden, but later—in a chapter entitled “Sacrilege”—Aunt Elizabeth discovers their hiding spot while cleaning, and read them all without asking permission, feeling no pangs of conscience about it.
“Elizabeth Murray would never have read any writing belonging to a grown person. But it never occurred to her that there was anything dishonorable in reading the letters wherein Emily, lonely and—sometimes—misunderstood, had poured out her heart to the father she had loved and been loved by, so passionately and understandingly.” (320)
But when she confronts Emily about the letters, Emily makes it clear that she is the one who has been wronged. “How dare you? How dare you touch my private papers, Aunt Elizabeth?” Shocked by the accusation, surprising to record, “For the first time in her life it occurred to Elizabeth Murray to wonder if she had done rightly” (321-322). Amazing to say, most of her life behind her, this stern believer in discipline had never before reflected onand doubted her actions—but thankfully life with Emily leads to her developing a more sensitive conscience. Despite their different ranks in the household, for Montgomery they become equals.
“For the moment they faced each other, not as aunt and niece, not as child and adult, but as two human beings each with hatred for the other in her heart—Elizabeth Murray, tall and austere and thin-lipped; Emily Starr, white of face, her eyes pools of black flame, her trembling arms hugging her letters.” (322)
She admits she was wrong to read Emily’s letters, and Emily, while treasuring the letters, adds explanatory notes to put her more mean-spirited remarks anout her aunt into context.
Commentary: Giving a high degree of autonomy to dependent children may seem progressive, but it is essential to character development. The way Miss Brownell and Aunt Elizabeth treat Emily made me think of Deweyan, socializing education, which treats the pupil wholly as a subject who needs to be trained to fit into society and meet expectations. Unlike a liberal education that teaches one to be able to distinguish right and wrong from convention, schooling as socialization is manipulation solely to fit the individual into a larger, preexisting, arbitrary scheme. It violates the categorical imperative, by treating students only as means, as well as the Golden Rule: when autodidacts set out to learn for themselves, they want to learn the truth, not how to conform. Consequently, it is no surprise that honor, in the ways of truth-telling and secret-keeping, is often denigrated in modern education. Many times I recall it being drilled into me that, if someone I knew was consideeing suicide, then you could NOT keep his secret even if he trusted you. Somewhere in “the system”, I do not doubt someone understood these were rules for a society of isolated, distrustful individuals who think of deceit as the only way to get by.
I read a nice counterexample of an American culture of honor recently, in a book I have been reading off and on and will review on finishing, Little House on Rocky Ridge, the first Rose Years book in the Little House metaseries. Mama and Papa (Laura and Almanzo) had hidden their life savings, a $100 bill, in a writing case when they travel back east to settle in Ohio. Just as they are about to head to the bank, they look in the case, and the money is missing! Their daughter Rose knew, and Mama asks her just once if she had told anyone, to which Rose truthfully answers no. ”Mama had said it was a secret, and Rose had kept it” (190). Given the seeming lack of other explanations, I think many parents would have distrustingly questioned her again and again, but it is clear that Rose was raised to tell the truth the first time, in return will be trusted because she is honest, and feels a weight of responsibility to be honest since she knows her words will be believed. Her parents immediately move onto other possibilities. That is what a culture of honor looks like.
Pic, a delightful cover which shows Emily writing on a letter bill in her attic hideaway. #LucyMaudMontgomery #LMMontgomery #EmilyOfNewMoon #childhood #children #privateproperty #privacy #fairness #ethics #honor #childrensliterature #childrensbooks #literature #books
“Elizabeth Murray had learned an important lesson—that there was not one law of fairness for children and another for grown-ups. She continued to be as autocratic as ever—but she did not do or say to Emily anything anything she would not have said or done to [Aunt] Laura had occasion called for it” (326).
Emily Byrd Starr coming to New Moon proves an opportunity for her Aunt Elizabeth, an old maid, to at her age, grow more ‘mature’ morally. At the beginning, Emily was a chore or a nusiance: the Murrays cast lots for her to see who would raise her when her father died. Spirited and feisty, as well as dreamy and imaginative, Emily and her straight-laced Aunt Elizabeth are often in conflict. When Emily gets into trouble for writing poetry during class, Aunt Elizabeth says, “I am sorry to say, Emily, that I have been hearing some very bad things about your behaviour in school today.” But as Emily perceptively, and wittily, replies,
“No, I don’t think you are sorry. I don’t mean to be impertinent, but you are not sorry. You are angry because you think I have disgraced New Moon, but you are a little glad that you have got some one to agree with you that I’m bad.” (174-175)
Then, to worsen matters, Aunt Elizabeth wants to hear only one side of the story. After hearing the unsympathetic teacher, Miss Brownell (who also saw this as a chance for comeuppance, with a disagreeable student), Emily complains,
“It was not as bad as that, Aunt Elizabeth. You see it was this way—“
”I don’t want to hear anything more about it.”
“But you must. It isn’t fair to listen only to her side. I was a little bad—but not so bad as she says—“
“Not another word! I have heard the whole story.”
As far as Aunt Elizabeth is concerned, Emily doesn’t have a side to the story. For her Aunt, children are always subject to search and seizure: she does not respect Emily’s privacy when she keeps writings. Toward the beginning, Emily had to burn an account book filled with imaginative journaling because her aunt insisted on reading everything she wrote. Later, Emily finds a stock of letter-bills, lengthy sheets she can write on the backs of, and often writes letters addressed to her deceased father, as a sort of diary. In heats of passion, she often writes things quite uncharitable about Aunt Elizabeth. For a long time they stay hidden, but later—in a chapter entitled “Sacrilege”—Aunt Elizabeth discovers their hiding spot while cleaning, and read them all without asking permission, feeling no pangs of conscience about it.
“Elizabeth Murray would never have read any writing belonging to a grown person. But it never occurred to her that there was anything dishonorable in reading the letters wherein Emily, lonely and—sometimes—misunderstood, had poured out her heart to the father she had loved and been loved by, so passionately and understandingly.” (320)
But when she confronts Emily about the letters, Emily makes it clear that she is the one who has been wronged. “How dare you? How dare you touch my private papers, Aunt Elizabeth?” Shocked by the accusation, surprising to record, “For the first time in her life it occurred to Elizabeth Murray to wonder if she had done rightly” (321-322). Amazing to say, most of her life behind her, this stern believer in discipline had never before reflected onand doubted her actions—but thankfully life with Emily leads to her developing a more sensitive conscience. Despite their different ranks in the household, for Montgomery they become equals.
“For the moment they faced each other, not as aunt and niece, not as child and adult, but as two human beings each with hatred for the other in her heart—Elizabeth Murray, tall and austere and thin-lipped; Emily Starr, white of face, her eyes pools of black flame, her trembling arms hugging her letters.” (322)
She admits she was wrong to read Emily’s letters, and Emily, while treasuring the letters, adds explanatory notes to put her more mean-spirited remarks anout her aunt into context.
Commentary: Giving a high degree of autonomy to dependent children may seem progressive, but it is essential to character development. The way Miss Brownell and Aunt Elizabeth treat Emily made me think of Deweyan, socializing education, which treats the pupil wholly as a subject who needs to be trained to fit into society and meet expectations. Unlike a liberal education that teaches one to be able to distinguish right and wrong from convention, schooling as socialization is manipulation solely to fit the individual into a larger, preexisting, arbitrary scheme. It violates the categorical imperative, by treating students only as means, as well as the Golden Rule: when autodidacts set out to learn for themselves, they want to learn the truth, not how to conform. Consequently, it is no surprise that honor, in the ways of truth-telling and secret-keeping, is often denigrated in modern education. Many times I recall it being drilled into me that, if someone I knew was consideeing suicide, then you could NOT keep his secret even if he trusted you. Somewhere in “the system”, I do not doubt someone understood these were rules for a society of isolated, distrustful individuals who think of deceit as the only way to get by.
I read a nice counterexample of an American culture of honor recently, in a book I have been reading off and on and will review on finishing, Little House on Rocky Ridge, the first Rose Years book in the Little House metaseries. Mama and Papa (Laura and Almanzo) had hidden their life savings, a $100 bill, in a writing case when they travel back east to settle in Ohio. Just as they are about to head to the bank, they look in the case, and the money is missing! Their daughter Rose knew, and Mama asks her just once if she had told anyone, to which Rose truthfully answers no. ”Mama had said it was a secret, and Rose had kept it” (190). Given the seeming lack of other explanations, I think many parents would have distrustingly questioned her again and again, but it is clear that Rose was raised to tell the truth the first time, in return will be trusted because she is honest, and feels a weight of responsibility to be honest since she knows her words will be believed. Her parents immediately move onto other possibilities. That is what a culture of honor looks like.
Pic, a delightful cover which shows Emily writing on a letter bill in her attic hideaway. #LucyMaudMontgomery #LMMontgomery #EmilyOfNewMoon #childhood #children #privateproperty #privacy #fairness #ethics #honor #childrensliterature #childrensbooks #literature #books
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