Błe̜kitny zamek

Tarma

Well! What a pleasant surprise this book was. I'd just finished reviewing the first three books of Anne of Green Gables - the last two of which received less than glowing praise, and I made a comment that really, if Anne of Green Gables was the only really good thing Montgomery wrote, I could still be happy, because it was *that* good. And then I stumbled on a description of this book, I can't even remember how, and it intrigued me, and I went and found it. And I started reading at 11 at night and at 2 in the morning I finally gave up trying to finish in one night but by the next morning, I'd woken up and finished it. It's delightful! And the funny thing is... it's nothing particularly groundbreaking. It's a romance, it's an underdog story, it's a boy-meets/loses/gets-girl and vice versa story, it's about the ugly duckling getting the perfect man and making all the people who kept her down sorry for how they'd treated her. But it doesn't matter! Montgomery's writing *makes* this into a fresh, funny, utterly irresistable read. As with Anne of Green Gables, the locations are just as much characters as the actual people are, and described with all the love, care and talent that went into Avonlea. I even experienced a moment of envy when Valency desribed the view from her bed on the island - it was so vivid and so much like what my own dream home would be like. Valancy is funny and likeable and, let's face it, I have more than a little sympathy for the woman on more than one count. Firstly, her story is set in the early 20s. I grew up in the late 80s/early 90s, and yet I *still* had adults constantly telling me to my face that any plans I had must be made around when I got married and had children. My declaration that I had no intention of 'getting' or 'having' either were met with a derisive "oh, you'll change your mind." Popular media was no better, and I grew up desperate for role models who were *not* married or engaged to be married. My imagination did wonders for me, but as I grew up, it became harder and harder to escape to when the world seemed so set against allowing that there was any possible fate for me *other* than marriage and children. Little wonder, then, that I felt an instant connection with Valancy, who in a world even more restricted in the one I experienced, looked to marriage for an escape, and struggled similarly with both the desperate need for a mental escape where she *could* be who she wanted, and the ever-increasing pain it caused by remaining so long as imaginary only, and seeming that more likely every bleak and lonely year to remain so. I am also the ugly duckling of my own particular family. I was the awkward introverted one, she was beautiful and athletic and popular and perfect, damn her hide, and that most certainly crossed my mind with the introduction of Olive! So yes, one could say this book was made to draw me in, but I think the thing that won me over the most was Barney. For, although my religious family will never know it, I may have said I never wanted to be married or have children - I did *not* say I never wanted a lover. I had always known I wanted a lover. I had always known what I wanted *in* a lover. And what I wanted is what Barney was - when once he started to develop as a character, all my girlish fancies came back to life and I fell madly in love with him right along with Valancy. Straightforward and honest, wanting to have a few secrets of his own and perfectly fine with his partner having her own secrets as well, taking and giving personal space, having his own opinions and perfectly fine with his partner having hers as well... my GOD, such simple things are so very sexy, but the thing that made it the best was that they did everything *together*. He didn't take her places, he went places *with* her. It's a distinction that some may never notice or think matters, but to me it was the difference between a 'hero' that does things to and/or for the heroine, and a hero that does things *with* the heroine - and the latter, to me, is so damned sexy I damn near melted into a puddle of gooey tears in the restaurant where I made the mistake of reading the last few chapters while I enjoyed breakfast, when he spoke to her of travelling together, of seeing things together, and spoke of it as a shared adventure instead of as something he was going to do *for* her. In short, romance is usually something I tolerate to enjoy something else. I enjoy adventure and excitement and explosions and swordfights and fantasy - but Montgomery's Barney Snaith... and lord, what a name! I didn't believe he *was* to be the hero up to the point where they were married, the name seemed such an unromantic name to pair with such a purple prose-y name as "Valancy Stirling" - names I am sure Anne Shirley herself would agree with me were never meant to appear together in print... but I'm equally sure that by the end of the novel she'd agree just as strongly with me that who cares, that was the BEST little romance story ever! *ahem* As I was saying, Barney Snaith and Valancy Stirling made me fall utterly and completely in love with them, and they didn't even have to try at it - all they did was be themselves, and the magic was done.