#jem blythe

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Anne of Green Gables

Sample Size: 488 stories

Source: AO3

NOTE: This chart excludes stories from "Anne With An E", as requested.

[ynhart]

A wip

-So many children to draw!!!

-added Anne + Rilla in this 2024 version

[gogandmagog]

The Blythes are Quoted by L.M. Montgomery

[anneofgreengablesthings]

so @shirleyjblythe posted a super fun poll to guess Shirley's middle name so of course I decided to research all the Blythe children's names bc apparently I don't know what to do with myself until school starts again!! give them a follow bc I am HERE for the Shirley appreciation

Joyce Blythe (deceased) is the only Blythe child not named for someone else. Anne wanted to call her Joy bc she was overjoyed at having a baby.

ok so Jem is actually James Matthew Blythe but they call him Jem (after Captain Jim and Matthew, in House of Dreams Anne says they were the two best men she knew outside of Gil)

Walter is apparently the next oldest, which I never put together - he is older than the twins. He is Walter Cuthbert Blythe in honor of Matthew and Marilla, and the Walter is in honor of Anne's father, Walter Shirley, who died shortly after her birth.

The twins are Anne and Diana (Nan and Di for short) after Anne and Diana of course. We don't learn their middle names.

Shirley is named after Anne's parents (Walter and Bertha Shirley) but we don't learn his middle name. Maybe something for Gil's side of the family?

Rilla is Betha Marilla Blythe, after Anne's birth mother (Bertha Shirley) and adoptive mother (Marilla Cuthbert)

[lifeofmarvvel]

Some Facts and Headcanons about the Blythe kids' appearances

Including how tall I think they are in relation to each other and who they look the most like

Jem

We know that Jem has Anne's red hair but Gilbert's curls as well as his eye color (hazel). He's said to be tall, have Anne's nose, Gilbert's mouth (and probably smile), and "the only one of the family who had ears nice enough to please Susan" (RV)

Pretty much, he's a good mix of Anne and Gilbert

The AoGG wikia also kinda roasts him by adding "Although not as handsome as his brother, Walter, or his best friend, Jerry, Jem grew up to be a good-looking young man" (rip lol, why'd they go with 2 comparisons on his looks in one sentence)

He's also decently tall, though it doesn't specify any comparisons in how tall. I'd say probably a solid 5'10 or 11.

Walter

He's considered the "handsomest of the Ingleside children" with straight black hair, and dark grey eyes.

Given that Anne also has grey eyes (though more green-gray, iirc), and the fact that he doesn't look like any known relative, I feel like there's a chance he looks like either one of Walter or Bertha's siblings (if they had any at any point) or one of their parents, his great-grandparents

As for height, I feel like he was always close in height to Jem growing up, only an inch or two shorter. They end up being roughly the same height by the time they stop growing

Nan

We find out exactly who Nan looks like in the series! During Anne of Ingleside, we find out she looks just like her Grandma Blythe. Consequently, she looks a lot like Gilbert, too -- the most of the daughters to look like him, in fact

She has straight brown hair and brown eyes. Her hair is considered silky, too. Anne appreciates the fact that at least Nan can wear pink out of her daughters

As for height, she's taller than Rilla, but still pretty short. Like, Rilla is barely shorter than her. It's a tough victory but she's not the shortest so  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Di

Anne's mini-me! Di has her red hair and green eyes. Her hair is said to have a "swirl to it" so I'm assuming that means she got Gil's curls as well (or at least some waves).

Since she looks so much like Anne, we can likely assume she's also pretty freckled

I like to think she's the tallest of the daughters. Like 5'8 or so, not too much shorter than Jem. While growing up, she was always taller than Nan but not too much -- Nan just stopped growing first

Shirley

Ah, Susan's "little brown boy" aka brown hair, brown eyes, and a darker skin tone than the Blythe kids who got Anne's Very White skin tone. He looks the most like Nan out of his siblings, and is the son that looks the most like Gilbert (just a slight difference in eye color)

We got nothing on his hair texture but I tend to picture him with curly hair too, probably just because of that "pretty close to Gilbert's mini-me" thing I've concluded

Little siblings have a bad habit of being rude and ending up taller than their older siblings. (I say this as an oldest child who has a younger sister that's a good few inches taller than me.) Because of that, I like to think that Shirley ends up the tallest of the Blythe kids. Idk how much taller than Gilbert that would make him, if at all, but he'd be pretty tall, definitely at least 6'2

Rilla

Rilla is a good mix between Gilbert and Anne, just in a different combo than Jem. She has Gilbert's hazel eyes, Anne's freckles, and "ripely, ruddily brown" which is probably exactly what Anne wanted her hair to be when she was younger. So, pretty much, she started auburn/red-haired and turned more brunette as she got older. The red is probably most visible in the summer sun

There also isn't anything about her hair texture, either. I'd say it's either wavy or the type of straight hair that actually does hold heated curls and hairdos better than others

Rilla is the baby and, unfortunately for her, I picture her as the shortest of the family. She's like an inch shorter than Nan. All growing up she probably said stuff like "I'll be taller than both of you!" to the twins and then. it just never happened. Sorry, girl

Fun Facts (aka all this but reworded exclusively)

Jem is the only son with Anne's hair color; he's the only son with Gilbert's eye color

Walter is the only kid with the grey-side of Anne's eyes. He has the darkest hair in the entire family

Nan is the only daughter with brown eyes

Di is the only one with the green-side of Anne's eyes, making her the one with the lightest eyes

Shirley is the only son with brown eyes

Rilla is the only daughter with Gilbert's eyes

None of the children inherited Walter Shirley's blue eyes (probably since the dark-eyed gene is so strong)

None of the children inherited Bertha's blonde hair

And Grandparent Look-Alikes

Jem and Di, because of their red hair, look most like Walter Shirley out of all of their grandparents. Di probably moreso than Jem

We only know John Blythe has brown hair, so it's also possible Nan looks like Grandma Blythe and Shirley looks like John with Gilbert either looking like John or a mix of his parents

Nan is the only grandkid confirmed to look exactly like a grandparent

Walter is an anomaly so who actually knows lol

--

Anyway, I don't really have a reason for posting this other than, hopefully, as a helpful guide to others and as a way for me to make sure my hcs for their appearances are written out so I don't mix up my thoughts in the future. Feel free to add any hc's you might have involving the Blythe kids and their appearances!

[jomiddlemarch]

Each be other’s comfort kind

In some ways, Jem found being married to Mary née Vance was the easiest thing in the world.

To begin with, if he ever referred to her as Mary née Vance, she cuffed him lightly on the shoulder before she rolled her eyes and then drew him back down for a kiss. 

He’d learned the only place to refer to her as Mary née Vance was their bed.

Which he must refer to simply as their bed, not their marriage-bed or anything of a similar high-falutin’ tone which she would accept from his mother and tolerate from Rilla and would otherwise laugh at almost merrily.

As someone not much given to flights of fancy well before the War had made him watch his friends and fellow soldiers gassed and killed, his brother gone without the chance of a farewell, his mind and body scarred in ways he knew as a physician would never fully heal, he found Mary’s unmitigated pragmatism as refreshing as water in the desert.

It also put his father at ease, as Dad said Mary reminded him not a little of his own mother, though Mary was notably less concerned with the vast quantity of pie the Doctors Blythe could consume of an evening, and her piecrust was arguably the equal of Susan Baker’s, though they’d all agreed not to utter such heresy at Ingleside.

In the privacy of their non-marriage, most ordinary bed, with its soft white linens and goose-feather pillows, Jem was free to tell Mary her pastry was actually better than Susan’s, as she had a lighter hand and her piecrust never once reflected any sense of consternation or outrage over some doings in Glen St. Mary, which could not be said of Susan’s best tarts.

Mary was practical and matter of fact. She had a good head for accounts and was far more intelligent that he, any of the Blythes or Merediths (with the exception of Carl) had ever given her credit for. It was easy to discuss the running of his practice and the economic advantages posed by a move to one of the larger towns, the intellectual stimulation offered by hospital work.

Mary did not worry about leaving Mrs. Marshall Elliott behind and she did listen when Jem spoke of his mother’s broken heart with oblique allusions to Walter’s death and more direct remarks about Shirley’s move to Montreal. Even more, she was willing to allow his mother precedence in ways Faith Meredith would never have countenanced. 

(Who knew what Faith would truly have countenanced? She’d eloped with Bertie Shakespeare Drew shortly after their mutual return from England and had immediately bobbed the golden-brown hair Walter had once referred to as her crowning glory in a sonnet Jem was never meant to see.)

Mary was patient and funny, an impossibly good mimic. She had a seemingly infinite supply of riddles and could curse a blue streak with the fishermen down in the harbor, who respected Young Doctor Blythe all the more for his sharp-tongued wife.

She complained very little, never as much as she ought about what mattered most, and only to the degree she would amuse him about things that didn’t matter at all. 

She was never troubled by his nightmares, by being woken by Jem clutching her tightly, his tears falling onto her neck, salt on his lips when he kissed her.

Mary liked to be read to of an evening, but not poetry. She liked Dickens, which didn’t surprise him, and Eliot, which did. She liked mysteries the best, pulp, which made him chuckle, and Lupin instead of Holmes, but she didn’t press him on nights when anything French was the door opened to memories he couldn’t bear.

She was warm, save for her cold feet. She’d tuck them against his shins and it wasn’t like anything else in the whole world.

She was reliable, steady, quick to take his side. Quick to see his side, even before he did. 

She was pretty and she didn’t count it worth much, without any of the vanity of any of the Blythe women.

She was eminently, exceptionally lovable—except that she was difficult to love.

She shrugged off praise.

She didn’t care for ornaments or nosegays, perfume or sweets or what Rilla called a stunning new cloche just the exact color of blackberry fool. 

She looked after him and their home so well, there was little left for him to do.

He was at a loss, one she was aware of and found entertaining, when Rilla remarked one day how much Rosemary Meredith’s new cat reminded her of Mary.

Then he knew.

Mary liked to have a cup of tea made just so, with plenty of milk.

She liked to end the day sitting with her stocking feet tucked up under her.

She liked to have her hair stroked, even if his hand trembled, which stopped much sooner when he was paying all his attention to the silkiness of her fair hair and the delicate skin at her temple, her throat.

She liked to sleep early on cold winter nights.

And sometimes, when they were together in the shadows, she liked to be called Puss. She liked it exceedingly well.

[the-moral-of-the-rose]

I am quite certain that Little Jem's gift of pearl beads reminded Anne of Matthew! How came I haven't noticed it before? And Jem's middle name was Matthew, too! :

“I’m quite content to be Anne of Green Gables, with my string of pearl beads. I know Matthew gave me as much love with them as ever went with Madame the Pink Lady’s jewels.”

Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery

"Jem, I never thought you supposed they were real pearls. I knew they weren't...at least in one sense of real. In another, they are the most real things I've ever had given me. Because there was love and work and self-sacrifice in them...and that makes them more precious to me than all the gems that divers have fished up from the sea for queens to wear. Darling, I wouldn't exchange my pretty beads for the necklace I read of last night which some millionaire gave his bride and which cost half a million. So that shows you what your gift is worth to me, dearest of dear little sons. Do you feel better now?"

Anne of Ingleside by L. M. Montgomery

[rmblythe7]

Does anybody have a good fancast for Jem Blythe? I’ve been thinking about it for a fic and I just can’t find anyone that really fits. If you’re an obsessed fan like me and have any ideas, please share!

[choujinx]

NIJI NO TANI NO ANNE (2003) by lucy maud montgomery & hara chieko

[acrookedbookshelf]

I just finished Rilla of Ingleside. And I can't say that it is my favourite in the whole serie with the second and third book ! Omg the ending, Jem, Walter... everything 😭

[alwayschasingrainbows]

LITTLE JEM BLYTHE'S MOODBOARD

"Jem imagines he is going to be a sailor...like Captain Jim..."

(Anne of Ingleside by L. M. Montgomery).

"He was and always had been a sturdy, reliable little chap. He never broke a promise. He was not a great talker. His teachers did not think him brilliant, but he was a good, all-round student. He never took things on faith; he always liked to investigate the truth of a statement for himself. Once Susan had told him that if he touched his tongue to a frosty latch all the skin would tear off it. Jem had promptly done it, “just to see if it was so.” He found it was “so,” at the cost of a very sore tongue for several days. But Jem did not grudge suffering in the interests of science." 

(Rainbow Valley by L. M. Montgomery).

[shannyh25]

Summary: Going to medical school is hard. But Jem figured if his father went to medical school and graduated, Jem can to. All Jem and Faith wants to do is help people. But what happens while Jem and Faith go to medical school and then Faith gets pregnant during their first year?

This is my first time writing a Jem and Faith fan fiction. Please tell me your thoughts. I know the basics did them, but that’s about it. I would love any tips and advice on making my story stronger. Thank you!

Title: Faith, Hope, and Happiness

Chapter 1

"Are you sure you have everything you need? All your medical textbooks, paper tablets, pencils, notebooks?" Anne asked anxiously to her oldest son.

Jem grinned at his mother. "Yes Ma, I promise. Dad and I went over everything just this morning, making sure I had everything I needed. He tripled checked. I have my medical bag that you and dad bought me with everything in it. I promise, I'll be just fine."

Anne turned to Gilbert. "Maybe Jem can just stay here and you can teach him everything he needs to know? You're the greatest surgeon in all of Glen St Mary. Jem doesn't need to go to school, does he? He can learn from hands on experience that you can teach him?"

Gilbert gently placed a kiss on his wife's forehead, "Trust me Anne-girl, if I could keep Jem at home and teach him everything, even surgery, I would do that in a heartbeat. It would save us a ton of money. But Jem has always done good in school so it's okay. He will be the next famous Doctor Blythe."

Anne sighed knowing she couldn't win this battle. Anne kissed Jen's head and then told the boys she needed to check on Susan. Susan has been in the kitchen all morning baking Rilla's favorite dinner and dessert. It was Rilla's 13th birthday. But instead of Susan being in a good celebratory mood, she has been in a bad mood because Jem was leaving in a month for medical school. Jem winced as he heard the cupboard door slam and then the sound of pots and pans being laid down harshly on the stove.

"I didn't mean to upset Mother about going to school. I just want you to help people and so does Faith. We plan on studying a lot together". Jem said.

"Don't worry about your mother. She'll be fine. She knew this day was coming, but I think you should go and speak to Rilla. She has been rather upset about you leaving for school." Gilbert said.

"It's her 13th birthday Dad. She should be excited about today of all days. Do we really need to give her a check up on her birthday?" Jem asked.

"I rather get it over with now. That way she doesn't have to dwell on it and you two can have a good rest of the time while you're still here. Rilla is the closest to you aside from Walter. In just a few short weeks, it will just be me, your mother, Susan and Rilla. You all will be off at school. It may be her birthday but she needs a checkup. She was rather anxious this morning and I pulled her into my office to discuss what was going on. She told me she was scared of being a teenager, the body changes around this time and she doesn't want you to go to medical school. She is terrified of starting school and you have always helped her with her homework. I reminded her I was a teacher once and so was your mother. She can always ask us for help but maybe it would be better if you spoke to her." Gilbert said.

Jem let it all sink in. Then looked up the stairs where his sister's room was then looked back at Gilbert.

"I don't have to go to school. I can stay here and tutor Rilla and earn money for boarding fees for when I do go to school. Faith and I did talk about that some and she said if worse comes to worse, she'll be alright with me staying home and helping Rilla."

"No, no Jem. I wouldn't expect you to sacrifice your medial schooling for Rilla. You have always wanted to be a doctor and now is your chance. Rilla will be just fine. Go up and speak to her but when you guys are done, I expect you in my office for her checkup. Remember, you're doing all the work. I'll be there to help guide you if you need help. I'll go and get the injection ready and the instruments ready for her blood draw. Take your time." Dad said.

Jem nodded his head. "I noticed she has been rather quiet and keeping to herself. She is more than welcome to come and stay with Faith and I. We would love to have her. Faith thinks of Rilla as a sister."

"Let's give it time after you leave for school. I need to keep an eye on her anxiety because she has been rather anxious about you leaving. Change is hard for her. Go speak to her Jem. Tell her once you get settled, perhaps she can stay with you guys for a visit." Gilbert said.

"Okay dad. I'll go up now." Jem said.

Gilbert patted his son on the head and watch his son go upstairs to comfort his sister.

Walking quietly up the stairs, Jem looked at all the pictures on the walls from over the years. Pictures of the children of different stages in life hung up on the walls. He stopped walking and looked at one picture. It was his favorite. The picture was taken a when Rilla was about 5 years old and he was grinning at the camera as he held Rilla upside down and she was squealing with laughter. Her hair was wild and all over the place. Jem was talking enough at that age that when he held Rilla by the ankles, the tips of her hair was hardly touching the ground. He chuckled at the memories.

He walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. The door was open ajar and he saw Rilla curled up on the bed and knees tucked into her chest. Her hair was coming out of her braid.

Jem didn't bother for an answer. He walked right into her room and sat down on the bed. Out of habit, Jem brushed her hair back to check her pulse. If he knew anything about doctoring, his father taught him the basics. Whenever Rilla was stressed out and Jem was around, he would always check her pulse first.

Rilla didn't even flinch or groan when she felt Jem check her pulse. She let him because she knew she was going to miss that whether she wanted to admit it or not. She sniffed and buried her face on her pillow.

"Hey Munchkin. Do you think we can talk for a little while? I want to make sure you'll be okay while I'm away at school." Jem said.

Sniffing, Rilla got up from laying down with Jem's. He wiped her eyes with his thumb. "Your pulse is much too fast. I rather it be slower by the time we go down stairs."

Rilla made an attempt to say something but Jem stopped her. "If I know anything dad taught me, it's basic doctoring. I still plan on giving you one last medical checkup tonight after supper when we all settle down. I expect your pulse to be back to normal. I expect you to eat your supper too."

"I don't want you to go to school Jem. Can't you stay here? Dad can teach you everything you need to know. He is the best doctor and surgeon here." Rilla said.

"That's basically what mom said just before I came up here. I have to go to school Rilla. I want to help people and children especially. I want to make people feel better and so does Faith. When the time comes Faith and I plan on taking over dad's medical office. You'll be my first patient." Jem said.

Rilla's lips trembled. "Who will help me with my homework? You have always helped me with that."

"Mom and dad used to be teachers, remember? I'm sure they will help you. I want you to talk to them. Once Faith and I get settled into our dorms, I want you to come stay with us. It can be for a week or a weekend. Whatever you feel comfortable with. I know you easily get homesick, but I think you should practice being away from home. I'll have everything you need medical-wise to help you." Jem said.

Rilla looked at him hesitantly. "I don't want you and Faith to get mad when I get anxious. You got mad at me that one time I went with you and Faith on a trip to one of Faith's family members houses."

Jem grimaced at the memory. "Faith wasn't mad at you, munchkin. She was mad at me because I force fed you when you didn't eat your breakfast. You know perfectly well that dad and I don't put up with that. You need to eat food and that will help with the nausea when you get homesick. I'll do it again if I have too. But Faith was mad at me for force feeding you and I got a big lecture from her after you ran off. She wants you to come and stay with us Munchkin. She thinks of you as a sister. She's protective of you to just like I am. That's why I got the lecture from her about what a bad brother I was."

"You're not a bad brother Jem. You're my favorite brother aside from Walter and he is going off to school soon as well this year. Then it will just be me at home with mom, dad and Susan. I would like to come and visit you and Faith if you and dad will let me." Rilla said.

Jem grinned. "I would love that Munchkin. You can be my guinea pig when it's time for me to practice my blood drawing skills, and giving you injections and practice my sewing skills. We'll have fun!"

Rilla wrinkles her nose. "Can't Faith do that? I'm terrified of needles and blood."

Jem patted Rilla's arm and grinned, "Please Rilla? You'll be my first ever patient. I'll be as gentle as I can. I already do the basic doctoring on you with dad watching. What's the difference?"

"You don't have to stitch me up and give me injections or draw my blood. Dad does all that." Rilla said.

Jem scoffed. "I helped stitch up your cut you had on your hand just a few months ago. I didn't do so bad, see?"

Jem took Rilla's hand and turned it over so he could see her palm. "See, hardly a scar. With dad's help, you were basically my first patient and I hardly left a scar. My stitches are tiny just like dad's!"

Rilla looked at her hand that Jem basically stitched back up. He really did do a good job and she supposed that she could be his and Faith's guinea pig.

"Well, alright. I suppose I can be your guinea pig. As long as you don't push the needle in my arm to hard." Rilla said.

"Thanks Munchkin. I'll practice my needle skills on Faith first." Jem said.

"I'm going to regret this." Rilla muttered.

"Now, another thing I want to discuss. I expect you to eat all your meals. Especially after I leave for school. I don't want any excuses on why you didn't eat them. Having an empty stomach will just make your nausea worse. I'll be getting updates from mom and dad on the matter. You know perfectly well I won't let you get away with not eating. Dad won't let you get away with that either. You're skinny enough and you need weight on you. I don't want to force feed you tonight of all nights. I'll be watching you and making sure you eat. I want to do a check up on you with dad present just to make sure I'm using the medical instruments right. I'm 99.9999% sure I am, but dad wanted me to tell you that you need an injection for school and he wanted me to practice drawing blood. So, I get a head start on the subject which why I partly came up here. He is waiting for us in his office."

"N,n,N, Now?" Rilla asked.

Jem nodded his head. "It's better we do this now and get over with early so we can enjoy the rest of our evening Munchkin. I promise I'll be as gentle as I can. I have done this before with some of dad's patients and they said I did good. Please trust me. If I hurt you, just tell me and dad can take over."

"Why hasn't the other kids gotten checkups from you?" Rilla asked.

"Because they aren't scared of doctors, needles and blood. They also don't have anxiety problems like you. So, you my dear Rilla, get to be my patient. I'm going to worry about you the most while I'm at school and so will Faith." Jem said.

"You don't need to. I'll be busy struggling in school while you're doing medical school. I wish you can stay home and tutor me. I'll be good and do what you tell me to do. I promise." Rilla said.

Rilla's lips started to tremble and a fresh set of tears started to fall from her eyes. Jem wiped her tears again with his thumb and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I would if I could Munchkin. But I need to concentrate on my own schooling. Trust me, my homework will be much harder than yours. Mom and dad will help you with your school work. I promise. When you come see me on the weekends, I'll help you too. School will be starting soon for both us. You can do this. I don't leave for another few weeks so we still have time to spend together. I need you to promise me something." Jem said.

Rilla looked at her brother curious.

"While I'm at school, I want you to promise me you'll keep up on your studies. If you need help, ask mom or dad. Don't forget they both used to be teachers. Secondly, I want you to promise me that you'll eat breakfast. Especially if you feel nauseous and anxious or at least half of it. I'll get reports from mom and dad. I expect you to eat the rest of your meals too. You know I won't put up with that when you visit Faith and I." Jem said.

Rilla bit her lip and looked at Jem. She knew he was being serious. Going all Doctor mode and teacher mode on her.

"Come on Munchkin. Dad's waiting for us in his office. I'll make you a deal. If you don't fight me when I give you an injection, I'll play a few rounds of checkers with you." Jem said.

"Let's make the best of the last few weeks, okay? I plan on being home every evening. You and I will have plenty of time together, okay?"

Sniffing Rilla nodded her head yes and she allowed Jem to take her hand to head downstairs to their dad's office.

[gogandmagog]

JEM: “Do you mean to say, mums, that you and dad were on bad terms when you went to school?”  DOCTOR BLTYHE: “Your mother thought she had a grudge against me, but I always wanted to be friends. However, that is all ancient history now. When did death come and look at you?”  ANNE: “Not my death. It was the shadow of your death I was thinking of... when everybody thought you were dying of typhoid. I thought I would die, too. And the night after I had heard you had taken a turn for the better... ah, that was the ‘wakefulness of joy’!”  DOCTOR BLYTHE: “It couldn’t have been anything to mine the night after I found you loved me!”  JEM, aside to Nan: “When dad and mums get to talking like that we find out a lot about their early days we never knew.”  SUSAN, who is making pies in the kitchen: “Isn’t it beautiful to see how they love each other? I can understand a good deal of that poem, old maid as I am!”

— ‘The Sixth Evening,’ The Blythes are Quoted, Lucy Maud Montgomery  

I was just revisiting this book, as I was getting ready for bed... and I remembered the first time that I read this chapter, how I had a good laugh over the notion that Jem and the Blythe kids didn’t know very much about their parents ‘early days,’ especially since their ‘early days’ stories are overall charming and amusing if nothing else... but it just now occurred to me, that there would be simply no way to tell this story to their kids without betraying two things. First, that Gilbert went and called Anne “carrots,” for all intents and purposes making proper fun of her hair, and second, that Anne was fragile and sensitive about her red hair and wished it were any different color.     These guys have 2.5 (.5 for Rilla, whose hair does change later) children with red hair. Of course it can’t be mentioned! The idea of sharing the same hair as your mother, only to come to understand that she hated her own hair? Or that your father was once known to tease her for that hair. Big oof! Which had me then realise as well, that Anne leaves off lamenting her hair to anyone expect Susan and Gilbert (always privately, too), in any book past Anne of the Island. I’m convinced it’s for these reasons.

[anneofgreengablesthings]

The L.M. Montgomery Literary Society posted this lovely photo of the three boys LMM dedicated Rainbow Valley to. It caused me to wonder who they were and what connection they had to Maud. I wrote a little bit of what I discovered below in honor of Veteran's Day/Rememberance Day. It seems they were members of the church her husband Ewan pastored in Zephyr. Maud and Ewan gave a going away dinner for the young men of their congregation and she wrote that her heart ached as she looked around the table at the young men they had come to know well.

Robert Brookes was the oldest of the three, at 32. Before leaving Canada, he left his farm to the care of his sister and her husband, and left documentation willing most of the land to them, as if he knew he would not return. Maud was close with him and his sister as they were close in age to her in a congregation of mostly young people or elderly. He took furlough to England, like Jims' father did. His sister wrote him there that she had a new baby daughter and he was thrilled to hear about his niece, writing "I want you to take good care of that little girl. I’m willing to go back and do my duty to the end, then when I come back she’ll be great company for me.” He returned to the front and was killed in the Third Battle of Ypres, reportedly while helping a wounded man to safety. He was quoted in local newspapers for his brave words, (link)and for how cheerfully he had given up his successful farm and went to defend his country. He was very close to his sister and wrote her many letters, similar to Walter and Rilla's relationship. His sister was understandably devastated. Maud remained close friends with her and supported her through this.

Maud ran an aid society and sent care packages to each soldier from Ewan's church. She was greatly incensed to receive a letter from a friend calling the war a "commercial" one. As a result of this she doubled down on her efforts to check on "the boys" and their families, becoming closest to these three.

Goldwin Lapp was just 22 when he was killed, and his parents bought a plaque at church "sacred to his memory" which Maud would later take inspiration from for Walter's plaque in Rilla.

Morley was a teacher who trained as a pilot, perhaps the inspiration for Shirley's flying. He was 23 when killed. His death was noted by LMM in her diary. Here is an article about that.

Most interesting of all, a member of the 116th battalion, mostly made up of Zephyr men, reported hearing a "bugler calling him" for years before the war and even wrote a poem about it. Perhaps this was inspiration for Walter's poem and premonition.

Sorry for the long post! I just found the tie-ins to Rilla and Rainbow Valley fascinating and wanted to share for anyone else interested. This website was a great source.

[abigailspinach]

4th October 1918

"Today Jem's letter came. It has been in the house only six hours and it is almost read to pieces. The post-mistress told everybody in the Glen it had come, and everybody came up to hear the news.

"Jem was badly wounded in the thigh—and he was picked up and taken to prison, so delirious with fever that he didn't know what was happening to him or where he was. It was weeks before he came to his senses and was able to write. Then he did write—but it never came. He wasn't treated at all badly at his camp—only the food was poor. He had nothing to eat but a little black bread and boiled turnips and now and then a little soup with black peas in it. And we sat down every one of those days to three good square luxurious meals! He wrote us as often as he could but he was afraid we were not getting his letters because no reply came. As soon as he was strong enough he tried to escape, but was caught and brought back; a month later he and a comrade made another attempt and succeeded in reaching Holland.

"Jem can't come home right away. He isn't quite so well as his cable said, for his wound has not healed properly and he has to go into a hospital in England for further treatment. But he says he will be all right eventually, and we know he is safe and will be back home sometime, and oh, the difference it makes in everything!

[jomiddlemarch]

and is there honey still 

Kissing Mary Vance was nothing like kissing Faith.

This realization, occurring a moment after the kiss ended, Jem’s hand still at Mary’s slender waist, her normally pale cheeks as pink as a rare mayflower, was followed immediately by the understanding that he’d never be able to tell anyone. There was no confidant he could trust with such a secret, even if he could bring himself to so violate the rules of gentlemanly behavior. It just wasn’t done and that was before he considered speaking of kissing Mary Vance, who was accepted as Miss Cornelia’s adopted daughter, but whose personal history was never quite forgotten.

Susan, should she ever hear of it, would be scandalized beyond comprehension. 

Jem would never eat another slice of her strawberry pie.

His friends and siblings would be confused, Faith put out, her pique covering any feelings of betrayal, for all that there was nothing binding between them.

Mother would be disappointed and Dad would shake his head.

The expression in Mary’s eyes, those queer eyes he now saw were the color of moonstones, told him she understood it all. 

“It’s nothing to make a fuss about,” she said. Faith would have tossed her head making such a remark, her golden-brown curls shown to advantage, but Mary only looked at him steadily and let the hand that had been on his shoulder drop to her lap.

“You hold yourself too cheap, Mary,” Jem said. 

“That ain’t—that isn’t possible,” she replied. “Anyway, what’s a kiss amount to?”

It was a good question, one Jem had thought he’d known the answer to, just as he thought he’d known the answer to the question she was laboring over at her desk in the empty classroom, a piece of paper scribbled over and crossed-out, grey smudges on the foolscap, on Mary’s white cuffs. She would’ve laundered them herself, being Miss Cornelia’s daughter not relieving her of her housekeeping duties, chores she’d call them though Jem knew none of his sisters had ever helped even pinning clean clothes to the line.

He supposed a kiss could be an ordinary thing, a peck on the cheek or the lips, a greeting, friendly and inconsequential as a wave, a forgettable gesture of a mild affection.

Kissing Mary Vance was nothing like that.

He could say, in all honesty, that he hadn’t planned it. He’d been pointing out something in her writing, a tricky bit she’d gotten tangled up in, and she’d been peering down at the page, trying to make it out. When she’d perceived her mistake, she’d looked up at him, her expression one he’d never seen before, victory and pride and delight all swirled together, altering her face from one he’d recognized without being aware of it into one he’d been startled to discover. Without a word, without a thought, he’d leaned in and kissed her parted lips before she crowed over her achievement or thanked him, the caress impetuous, a whim, irresistible.

She was irresistible. He’d grazed her lips with his own and in the space before the next heartbeat, he’d cupped her jaw with one hand and let the other drop to her waist to draw her close. He felt the most tremendous desire for her possess him, everything else dropped away. She tasted, quite impossibly, of honey, though that was perhaps because he had always liked honey best, and she was warm in his embrace, coming closer when his hand at her waist reached around her back, sighing a little when he stroked her cheek and angled her head to be able to kiss her more deeply. Every second, his desire for her ratcheted sharply upwards and she met him, her hand clutching his shoulder, her sharp tongue sweet in his mouth. She kissed the way a fast girl kissed but there was a terrible innocence to her response that made him know she’d never kissed anyone else, whatever she might have intimated to his sisters and her friends.

He couldn’t say why he’d broken away. 

A sound in the hallway or her sudden stillness when his hand grazed her breast, the need to breathe, the pounding of his heart felt throughout his whole body. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Mary went on when he was stayed silent.

“Are you sorry?” he blurted out, and hearing the words he became suddenly terrified that he’d transgressed, become that monster Reverend Meredith always warned of in his gentle way, a man consumed by his appetites, greed and lust. “Oh, God, Mary, have I made you do something you didn’t want—”

“As if you could!” she said, wry again, Mary Vance again as he’d ever known her. If she’d wanted to, she would have slapped him, he was sure of that. “There’s no person living who could make me do what I didn’t want and certainly not you, Jem Blythe.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” he said, chastened, still too close to her. Still tasting the honey-sweetness of her lips, feeling the sound of the quiet moan of hers he’d swallowed in his throat.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore,” she offered. “Or ever again. It could be just something that happened once, like as if you’d knocked over my inkwell, and we can forget about it. If that’s what you’d like. To be easy about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore,” he repeated, agreeing. An inkwell knocked over would leave a stain, one endless scrubbing would never entirely remove. “But I won’t forget. I shan’t.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” she said, her old tone mixed in with a new softness. He’d mussed her hair and some of the loose strands caught the light, a far cry from the usual trig appearance Miss Cornelia insisted upon. He wasn’t sure he’d ever see this Mary again, but it might be enough, to have seen it this one time. It was more Walter’s way to say he’d carry it as a talisman, but Jem felt it without saying it, that to have this moment might serve him well in the future.

“Mind you turn that paper in,” he said. 

“Mind yourself, then,” she said and turned away.

He wouldn’t see Mary alone for another ten years. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” Mary said, sitting down beside him, facing the water. She tucked her skirt around her and made no effort to conceal her sturdy, scuffed boots. It was a cool evening, cooler by the shore, but she didn’t have a coat or even the old wool shawl she’d refused to give up before he’d left for France. He shrugged off his own coat and offered it to her. He’d be warm enough in his heavy jersey, one the fisherman down at the harbor wore when the wind picked up.

“Not Rainbow Valley?” he said.

“Why would you go there? You’re not a child anymore. Haven’t been for a long time, unless I miss my mark,” she said. 

“No, you’re right,” he said. “Not for a long time.”

“You don’t have to talk to me about anything. Not about the War or Walter or being a prisoner,” she said. She said it without any particular tenderness, which was the most consoling part. He recalled, very dimly, that before she had come to Miss Cornelia, she’d lived through her own horrors, yet spoke of them rarely if at all.

“Don’t have to tell me about any French girls either,” she added and he laughed. 

It was the first time he’d laughed since he came home. Since he came back to the Glen, anyway, and called it home without being able to fully mean it.

“Not much to tell there. I mostly saw nuns and the Red Cross nurses are awfully brisk, whatever their nationality,” he said.

“I’ve always thought Cornelia would make a good nun, for all that she’s married,” Mary said.

“Perhaps,” Jem replied. The waves kept breaking on the sand and it was dusk, romantic if you wanted it to be. Mary had his coat wrapped around her shoulders. Jem felt scoured, raw and empty.

“Why’d you come, if you don’t expect me to talk?” he asked after several minutes of silence.

“I guess because you need someone who doesn’t expect you to talk but who’s willing to sit nearby, without fussing over anything,” she said. “I’ve plenty of handwork and housework to deal with at home. I’m perfectly content to sit and be idle and there’s nothing you can say or not say that can hurt me. I’m not hurt the way you are, I can bear whatever you need—”

“They can’t at home,” he said. Mother, with grief in her grey eyes and grey in her auburn hair, and Rilla, grown into a mother before she was a wife, Dad with something more broken inside him than any of the rest. Susan and Dog Monday and the letters from Di and Nan, blotted and halting. Una, who might as well be one of the French nuns who tended him, all of them mourning Walter and trying to rejoice at his return. Jem, trying to keep them from hearing any of his nightmares, biting his tongue when they spoke at a meal of the future or the past.

“I know,” she said. “Faith Meredith’s married a Brit. Officer, Lord Something Hoity-Toity of Fancy Abbey-on-High.”

“I’m happy for her,” Jem said tiredly. “We were childhood sweethearts, that’s all.”

“I know. Just wanted it said so you’d know I know,” Mary replied.

“If she’d waited, I wouldn’t have wanted her. I wouldn’t want her to have me now, as I am,” he said. “Befouled, diminished—”

“Walter’s dead, Jem. You don’t have to speak in his voice,” Mary said. 

“I wasn���t—”

“Yes, you were. If you don’t think I’d remember, after all those afternoons, those walks and rambles, listening to him, well then. You’d be wrong. I remember,” she said.

“I want Faith to stay as she is. Beautiful, golden, untouched, a lovely memory from my splendid childhood,” Jem said.

“Good Lord, she’d far better off than I thought, even without taking a castle into account,” Mary exclaimed. “Maybe her Lord Gawain-Excalibur-Avalon actually treats her like a women. A person.”

“I didn’t know you liked the Arthurian legends,” Jem replied, taken aback by Mary’s remark, choosing to deflect.

“I liked the sword. And the Lady of the Lake with her own place,” Mary said.

“I thought it would be like that, the War, knights going out,” he said. “I knew there’d be wounds and death, but I thought there’d be honor—"

“You always were a bit of a fool,” Mary said. “Stands to reason though, the way you were raised.”

“We had a—you’re right,” he said, realizing he did not have to defend his parents or Ingleside. “Mother was so careful for us to be well-loved. To live in a world where we might imagine ourselves heroes or able to speak with the fairies—you would have done better than I at the Front, Mary.”

“No one would do better,” she said. He braced himself for her to talk about his medals, his valiant efforts in the prison camp, how he tended those around him with what little he had. How many men had died in his hands, their blood the scent in his nose as terrifying as gas. “You lived.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“Come here, then,” she said, shifting to kneel facing him. The moon had risen and it suited her, her eyes gleaming like opals, her hair silver, the shadow soft around her bare throat. She reached a hand to touch his cheek, rough with the whiskers he hadn’t shaved for the past few days. “Come here, James,” she said and the sound of his name startled him enough to move closer. To let her draw his face to hers for a kiss.

For a moment, he was seventeen again and Walter was alive, the fields of France green, the chestnut trees in leaf. Then he heard a wave break and felt Mary’s hand move to the nape of his neck, her fingers callused, and he tasted salt mixed with honey. She beckoned him and he put his arms around her, holding her tightly, trying to lose himself in her embrace. Letting her find him.

They were alone with the moon and the sea. There was no hallway and Mary kissed him well enough there were no memories, not of France or Germany or Holland, not of the ship or the train or the graveyard with the stone too white, the wilting mayflowers at its base. There was nothing Mary would not do, no end to the comfort she would offer. His hands were at her waist and her breast, eased beneath her skirts, and she coaxed him on. When he brought both back to cup her face, she’d smiled under his lips. When he lay back against the sand and brought her to lie next to him, her head resting upon his chest, she’d come with him.

“I should have asked, Miller Douglas?”

“He married Ada Parker six months ago. I didn’t shed a tear, except that they should be happy,” she said. “To be honest, I didn’t fancy being a shopkeeper’s wife, but I would have made the best of it.”

“I’m alive, but I don’t know what I have to offer,” Jem said. Mary thumped him on the chest, hard enough to notice, soft enough to be nothing more than a scolding.

“You’ve yourself and I’m myself. You don’t have to offer me anything,” she said.

“That’s the first lie you’ve told,” he said.

“Then remember me. This. How it was, how it might be,” she said. “Grieve and suffer and if you want, I’ll be there for it. Or you can come round in a while, when you’re sorted out. I’m in no hurry. I’ve an idea of how to run a doctor’s house, no offense to your mother or Susan, and I’d like to try it out some time.”

“Will there be much pie?” Jem asked.

“There will be honey-cake, pots and pots of clover honey ready to drizzle. That’s your favorite.”

“Call me James again,” he said.

She propped herself up on his chest so he could see her face, the curve of her lips, her silvery hair hanging loose around her cheeks.

“I believe you meant to say, please, James. Mind yourself, then.”

Tagging @gogandmagog who posted this:

DIANA, teasingly: “You, anyhow. I saw you kissing Faith Meredith in school last week ... and Mary Vance, too.”

JEM:- “For mercy’s sake, don’t let Susan hear you say that. She might forgive it with Faith but never with Mary Vance.” From The Blythes Are Quoted

And @freyafrida who wrote "also want to write jem/mary fic now although i have zero ideas for anything apart from the ship"