Anne of Avonlea

By the end of Anne of Green Gables, Marilla’s stalwart, domineering personality gives way to a loving and caring matriarchal figure for Anne due to Anne’s love and devotion. She continues this character arc into this second book in the series. Rather than responding with harshness, Marilla’s attitude here is one of understanding and concern. Anne’s impact on her life is omnipresent, for Marilla no longer holds the unfeeling persona she once did. Though she still offers the same sage advice during the raising of the twins as she did while raising Anne, her sarcastic and domineering attitude has been tempered by Anne’s love over the past few years, which is why she is not enraged by Davy’s misbehavior.

Instead, Marilla acts as a sensible guide to Anne’s conscience. She is there to remind Anne to stay the course and not give up when times get hard—like the evening before Anne’s first day of teaching or when Mrs. Morgan does not make the first dinner plans. As the true mother figure of the novel, Marilla not only handles the addition of Davy and Dora splendidly for an older woman, but she also sacrifices “losing” Anne to college at the end of the book. Though she can’t bear to be without her Anne, Marilla knows that the girl’s future lies far beyond the boundaries of Avonlea, and the inclusion of the twins in the storyline—plus the death of Mrs. Rachel’s husband—allows her to let Anne go.

Twins by birth only, Davy and Dora are complete opposites: Dora behaves as any good child should, and Davy wreaks havoc wherever he goes. Even so, Anne and Marilla find themselves loving the little boy the most as he has a “born knack of winning love” (109). He reminds Anne of her neglected childhood, even through his bad moments. She sees in him a child in need of a guiding hand and a lot of forgiveness, like herself when she was younger and believes that she and Marilla can raise him to be a perfect gentleman. Marilla, however, sees in him a glimpse of Anne—only worse. Davy reminds her of all the scrapes Anne got into her first couple of years at Green Gables; only Davy’s seem to be driven by a desire to actually be bad, while Anne’s were driven by mere curiosity.

Both children serve as an opportunity for Anne and Marilla. For Anne, they represent a chance to teach a younger generation about the love and lessons she received from Marilla and Matthew. For Marilla, they represent a way to express the love and sensitivity she acquired from raising Anne. This novel’s depiction of Marilla—who has learned to express the love she feels instead of bottling it up inside—is a far cry from the Marilla of Anne of Green Gables who ruled the household with an iron fist. The twins allow both women to showcase their change in character and circumstance, and it is the twins who will remain at Green Gables to love and support Marilla after Anne heads off to Redmond College.

Mr. Harrison proves to Anne that kindred spirits can often be made, not born. An angry little man, “short and fat and bald” (3), he often comes across as a vitriolic outsider who has no place in the quaint town of Avonlea. However, as often happens for Anne, her friendship with Mr. Harrison overpowers that initial first impression and blossoms into something quite beautiful. Much like her initial encounter with Mrs. Rachel—which readers may remember involved a slur at Anne’s hair color and ended with a dramatic apology on Anne’s part—Mr. Harrison’s comment about a “redheaded snippet” (4) invokes outrage in the young woman but is soon followed by a lively and engaging best friendship. Though Mr. Harrison and Mrs. Rachel are sworn enemies who disparage any comparison between themselves, Anne sees them both as formed kindred spirits—people whose initial impressions must be overcome to see the beauty within.

His friendship with Anne blossoms into one of the central friendships of the novel as well as encompasses one of the major themes—the overcoming of initial impressions. It does not take long for Anne to impact the old bachelor. After their first tea together, he realizes that Anne “makes [him] feel young again” (20) and welcomes her friendship with open arms. Though they differ in many regards, Mr. Harrison represents the effect that Anne has on people. Her optimism and inner vivacity often change those around her for the better.

Paul, “a boy with big, dreamy eyes and a beautiful, sensitive face” (101), quickly becomes Anne’s favorite student. Though he may be a young boy, Paul connects most of the major storylines in the novel. His connection to Anne—built on their mutual love for imagination and beauty—makes it quite clear that he is the student she dreams about in the opening chapter, who will become a famous poet due to her teaching. With Paul, this is possible. He is devoted to his schoolwork, diligent in his responsibilities, and confident in who he is—a difficult feat for the young ones of Avonlea, who often try to remain as normal as possible. Though he is often labeled as strange for his vivid make-believe stories, these stories are just a way for Paul to cope with the loss of his mother—something Anne understands intimately.

Without Paul, the quintessential romance of Anne of Avonlea couldn’t come to pass. His relationship with Anne leads her to mention the “Irving” name after all these years to Miss Lavendar, rekindling an old flame that expired long ago—the memory of a perfect love marred by two individuals' misunderstanding. In doing so, Paul gains a mother figure in Miss Lavendar—not to replace his departed mother, but to take a place alongside her. Anne and Miss Lavendar serve as mother figures—and kindred spirits—for the young man, giving him a well-rounded upbringing in his father’s absence.

If readers could jump forward in time to Anne in middle age, she would possibly look and act very much like Miss Lavendar. As the princess waiting for her prince to return after many, many years, Miss Lavendar fits the bill. She is a lively, vivacious woman of 45 who has built a quaint life for herself in a beautiful, secluded cottage. Like Anne and Paul, she is a kindred spirit who frequently dwells in the realms of imagination. Anne, obsessed with romance (in other people, not herself), falls quickly into the idea that she can reunite Miss Lavendar and the love of her life, Stephen Irving.

Deemed peculiar even in her younger years, Miss Lavendar has eccentric qualities that mirror those of Paul and Anne, all of whom are judged by those around them for being lost in daydreams and imagination far too often. She serves as a surrogate mother for Paul—until she becomes his stepmother—by listening to his stories and concerns. For Anne, she is both a good friend and an “enchanted princess” in need of salvation from her true prince—a fact that endears Anne to her and elicits Anne’s involvement in her romance. In fact, without the influence of fate—or Anne’s wrong turn in Grafton—Miss Lavendar may be stuck in Echo Lodge forever with just her echoes to keep her company.

Gilbert and Anne’s friendship continues in the same vein as readers left the two of them in the first novel, with Gilbert harboring a very secret adoration of Anne in the hopes that, as both of them come of age, Anne will realize how wonderful they are together. Instead, he proves to her over and over again how valuable of a friend he can be: the work on the Village Improvement Society, their pet project, would not be possible without his dedication and sacrifice—the same sacrificial attitude he presents at the end of Anne of Green Gables when he gives up the Avonlea school so Anne can stay home with Marilla.

For his part, Gilbert has grown into quite a wonderful man. His vision of being a doctor and giving back to those who built him and those who will come after him speaks to a mind dedicated to service above self—a trait that any woman would admire in a future husband. However, he must overcome Anne’s vision of her “ideal man” to win her affection, and it is this commitment to her ideals that Gilbert most loves about her.

Through the omniscient narration, readers can pick up on all the signs that Gilbert is in love with Anne. The entire town also knows it; everyone sees it except Anne. It is not until the end of the novel, when Anne reaches the end of her childhood innocence, that she begins to see Gilbert for who he is and what he means to her life—a strong central figure who supports her for who she is.

Like most of the other Avonlea young folk from the first novel, Diana’s bosom friendship with Anne morphs into one of emerging maturity on both of their parts. While they both value each other immensely, the differences between the two best friends become clearer as the novel progresses. Diana, never one to follow Anne into the realms of imagination and fancy, pursues the typical path of a young woman at the turn of the 20th century. Thoughts of marriage and family dominate her mind, and her romance with Fred Wright makes Anne realize how separate their lives are becoming.

Even so, no one in Anne’s life fills the role of “best friend” as Diana does, and Anne values that they have “never had a quarrel nor even a coolness” (192) in their time together. It is still always Diana that Anne turns to in moments of great happiness and great despair, and, like in the first novel, Diana is always present for Anne’s greatest success and failures. Despite their great differences in character and outlook, this closeness they share speaks to the strength of the “bosom friendship” they formed in the first novel.