{"id":5409,"date":"2006-10-02T08:03:46","date_gmt":"2006-10-02T12:03:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=5409"},"modified":"2024-10-27T11:35:48","modified_gmt":"2024-10-27T15:35:48","slug":"the-books-further-chronicles-of-avonlea-the-education-of-betty-l-m-montgomery","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=5409","title":{"rendered":"The Books: Further Chronicles of Avonlea<\/i>: \u2018The Education of Betty\u2019 (L.M. Montgomery)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Daily Book Excerpt: YA\/Children’s books:<\/p>\n

\"51QSH0XX72L._AA240_.jpg\"Further Chronicles of Avonlea<\/a>\"\"<\/i> – “The Education of Betty” – by L.M. Montgomery<\/p>\n

This is one of those stories where I think, “Nice try, Maud, but not only am I NOT going there with you – I kinda resent you making me go there in the first place.” Ha. I’m being dramatic – but seriously, ‘The Education of Betty’ is – I don’t know. The whole thing seems ikky to me. And that is the best and most articulate assessment I can make. I dislike the assumption that Betty needs to stop being a tomboy, needs to be pruned and shaped. Ew. I liked her better before. I dislike the assumption of our narrator that he is totally in charge of Betty’s entire life. Like – how she walks, dresses, whatever. I don’t care what anyone says – I like Betty better when we first meet her – chasing dogs across the lawn, than in the last scene – where she is submissive, ladylike, and quivering with romantic possibility. Spare me. Also – I guess I just don’t like the narrator himself. He comes across as smug, sexist, and unimaginative – not to mention jealous and ridiculous, he doesn’t have the balls in the end to just say, “YOU MUST MARRY ME” – or, eventually he does – but not before driving her into the arms of someone else. Ew. Like, dude: your days as a tutor are long gone. Stop acting like you still get to control every move Betty makes, you smug control-freak. Ew. Ikky. Ikky. I read the story keep waiting for Betty to say, “You know what, Stephen? I’ve had it with you. I can grow up on my own. I can ‘education’ myself on my own. You’re WAY too ikky, and WAY too invested in me, oh, learning how to walk slower, and keep my head erect, and comb my hair. Get a life, Stephen. Seriously.”<\/p>\n

I never feel this way about Lucy Maud’s stuff, so whatever, in my opinion – this story is a huge misfire. You at LEAST need me to get on the narrator’s side. But in this case, I am voting against him. Because I think Betty is fine and lovely just the way she is. She’s not a terror. She’s not a juvenile delinquent. No. She just, uhm, LIKES TO READ, and likes to RUN AROUND OUTSIDE, and dismisses with a scoff the idea that women need to be ladylike. Oh my gosh, what is WRONG with Betty????? We have to call in a tutor to help her get rid of THOSE crazy ideas.<\/p>\n

Yeah. That kind of nonsense is what kept women down, and I resent that Betty’s “education” really meant: Making her be like everyone else. So I find the story to be a huge bummer. It’s supposed to be charming, and kind of cute – you can tell, in how she writes it – it’s supposed to be a witty little domestic comedy. But it’s not.<\/p>\n

I am going to provide an excerpt from the beginning when we get to see Betty as herself. Infinitely more interesting than the calmed-down shy coquette at the end. Ew.<\/p>\n

Now Lucy Maud is the QUEEN of unconventional female heroines. Is Emily Byrd Starr<\/a> a normal little girl? Who plays with dolls and tea sets? Uhm NO. Is Anne Shirley<\/a> in any way conventional? Maybe the only conventional thing about her is that she wants desperately to belong and fit in. But, uhm, other than that? She is totally original and herself. And it’s not that these unconventional females don’t have to learn tough lessons along the way – about how to get along in the world – how to know how to pretend to fit in (like with the whole Aunt Ruth debacle<\/a> in Emily Climbs) – even if every fiber of your independent unconventional soul SCREAMS against conformity. Sometimes it is better to conform to get along – than to assert your different-ness.<\/p>\n

Yes. SOMETIMES. But ALL the time? Like with Betty?<\/p>\n

No. Won’t go there with you, Lucy. And since in every other story you write there’s some unconventional and gorgeous and lovable female running around – I’m just gonna assume this one is a misfire, and move on. No hard feelings, Maudie.<\/p>\n


\nExcerpt from Further Chronicles of Avonlea<\/a>\"\"<\/i> – “The Education of Betty” – by L.M. Montgomery <\/b><\/p>\n

I rode over to Glenby the next morning after my paternal interview with Sara, intending to have a frank talk with Betty and lay the foundation of a good understanding on both sides. Betty was a sharp child, with a disconcerting knack of seeing straight through grindstones; she would certainly perceive and probably resent any underhand management. I thought it best to tell her plainly that I was going to look after her.<\/p>\n

When, however, I had encountered Betty, tearing madly down the beech avenue with a couple of dogs, her loosened hair streaming behind her like a banner of independence, and had lifted her, hatless and breathless, up before me on my mare, I found that Sara had saved me the trouble of an explanation.<\/p>\n

“Mother says you are going to take charge of my education, Stephen,” said Betty, as soon as she could speak. “I’m glad, because I think that, for an old person, you have a good deal of sense. I suppose my education hs to be seen to, some time or other, and I’d rather you’d do it than anybody else I know.”<\/p>\n

“Thank you, Betty,” I said gravely. “I hope I shall deserve your good opinion of my sense. I shall expect you to do as I tell you, and be guided by my advice in everything.”<\/p>\n

“Yes, I will,” said Betty, “because I’m sure you won’t tell me to do anything I’d really hate to do. You won’t shut me up in a room and make me sew, will you? Because I won’t do it.”<\/p>\n

I assured her I would not.<\/p>\n

“Nor send me to a boarding school,” pursued Betty. “Mother’s always threatening to send me to one. I suppose she would have done it before this, only she knew I’d run away. You won’t send me to a boarding school, will you, Stephen? Because I won’t go.”<\/p>\n

“No,” I said obligingly. “I won’t. I should never dream of cooping a wild little thing, like you, up in a boarding school. You’d fret your heart out like a caged skylark.”<\/p>\n

“I know you and I are going to get along together splendidly, Stephen,” said Betty, rubbing her brown cheek chummily against my shoulder. “You are so good at understanding. Very few people are. Even dad darling didn’t understand. He let me do just as I wanted to, just because I wanted to, not because he really understood that I couldn’t be tame and play with dolls. I hate dolls! Real live babies are jolly; but dogs and horses are ever so much nicer than dolls.”<\/p>\n

“But you must have lessons, Betty. I shall select your teachers and superintend your studies, and I shall expect you to do me credit along that line, as well as along all others.”<\/p>\n

“I’ll try, honest and true, Stephen,” declared Betty. And she kept her word.<\/p>\n