#source: anne of green gables

[addicted-to-his-knife]

Pavi: Father, isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?

Rotti: I'll warrant you'll make plenty in it.

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

There must be a limit to the mistakes one coyote can make, and when I get to the end of them, then I'll be through with them. That's a very comforting thought.

Wile E. Coyote

[wandasgirlblog]

“no one but you is allowed to dictate what you’re worth.”

[adaptations-polls]

Which version of this do you prefer?

See tags of original post for further notes

[jonathanbyersphd]

RIP Anne Shirley-Cuthbert u would've loved archive of our own

[embeccy]

"I really think the woods are just as lovely in winter as in summer. They're so white and still, as if they were asleep and dreaming pretty dreams."

- L.M. Montgomery

[incorrectclassicbookquotes]

Diana Barry: Guys it’s a shooting star, let’s make a wish! Anne Shirley: I wish for good grades. Josie Pye: Nerd. Anne Shirley: Nevermind, I wish upon the shooting star to fall down at a 30° velocity aiming for Josie. Diana Barry: Anne!

[sableuhfin]

I really really liked what they did with Matthew and Marilla characters in Anne with an e

[fandom-obsessed72]

Diana: “Anne, you know Gilbert will never agree to this plan.”

Anne: “Sure he will!”

Ruby: “I’ve already asked him three times. He won’t do it.”

Anne: “Let me try”

Anne: *walks up to Gilbert* “Can we-

Gilbert: “Yes.”

[stark-raving-romantic]

Since we all agree the Harry Potter is NOT it...here's a fun poll! These are just my picks but if you feel that I've neglected one, tell me and I'll make another poll, the winners can face off or something.

Please reblog to break containment!

Pride and Prejudice: It is a truth universally acknowledged , that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

Northanger Abbey: No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be a heroine.

Anne of Green Gables: Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde's Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde's door without due regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof.

The Graveyard Book: There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.

Romeo and Juliet:

"Two households, both alike in dignity

 (In fair Verona, where we lay our scene),

 From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

 Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."

Tuck Everlasting: The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.

Fahrenheit 451: It was a pleasure to burn.

The Hobbit: In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

A Christmas Carol: MARLEY WAS DEAD, to begin with.

The Secret Garden: When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Far Out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.

Percy Jackson/The Lightning Thief: Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

You know, every day ah would peeck a deefferent memory of you and play eet ovair and ovair and ovair again een mah mind, until every hair, every wheeskair, every part of you was exactly as ah remembered.

Pepe le Pew to Penelope Pussycat

[anneofgreengablesincorrectquotes]

Anne: I studied Gilbert Blythe long and hard to figure out why I hated him so much—

Anne: —but that blossomed into primal desire, as these things often do.

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Anne of Green Gables

Sample Size: 488 stories

Source: AO3

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

[batrachised]

Watching Anne of Avonlea (through sheer determination and after a series of events that involved unsuccessfully digging through the website's source code, I managed to rent it), and it strikes me how (in this instance, similarly to the book), Anne repeatedly crushes any romantic advancements on Gilbert's part. In the book, Anne avoids being alone with Gilbert and begs him not to propose to her. It makes me wonder: why did Gilbert think proposing to her would work? Is it because he wanted a sense of finality? Because he did genuinely think he had a chance? He does say this:

“There isn’t anything to forgive. There have been times when I thought you did care. I’ve deceived myself, that’s all. Goodbye, Anne.”

This implies that he did think a yes was possible. Yet I find this difficult to believe, because while we all know Anne does in fact care that way for Gilbert and doesn't know it yet, Anne has also been pretty blunt about how she doesn't think she does. Anne of the Island's first chapters are filled with Anne thinking about how awkward walks with Gilbert are now, or with her crushing any overtures he makes. Exhibit:

Gilbert suddenly laid his hand over the slender white one lying on the rail of the bridge. His hazel eyes deepened into darkness, his still boyish lips opened to say something of the dream and hope that thrilled his soul. But Anne snatched her hand away and turned quickly. The spell of the dusk was broken for her. “I must go home,” she exclaimed, with a rather overdone carelessness. “Marilla had a headache this afternoon, and I’m sure the twins will be in some dreadful mischief by this time. I really shouldn’t have stayed away so long.” She chattered ceaselessly and inconsequently until they reached the Green Gables lane. Poor Gilbert hardly had a chance to get a word in edgewise.

[Gilbert asks] “And after those four years—what?” “Oh, there’s another bend in the road at their end,” answered Anne lightly. “I’ve no idea what may be around it—I don’t want to have. It’s nicer not to know.

“I wonder if I can ever make her care for me,” he thought, with a pang of self-distrust.

“If I had my way I’d shut everything out of your life but happiness and pleasure, Anne,” said Gilbert in the tone that meant “danger ahead.” “Then you would be very unwise,” rejoined Anne hastily. “I’m sure no life can be properly developed and rounded out without some trial and sorrow—though I suppose it is only when we are pretty comfortable that we admit it. Come—the others have got to the pavilion and are beckoning to us.”

Anne was never attended by the crowd of willing victims who hovered around Philippa’s conquering march through her Freshman year; but there was a lanky, brainy Freshie, a jolly, little, round Sophomore, and a tall, learned Junior who all liked to call at Thirty-eight, St. John’s, and talk over ’ologies and ’isms, as well as lighter subjects, with Anne, in the becushioned parlor of that domicile. Gilbert did not love any of them, and he was exceedingly careful to give none of them the advantage over him by any untimely display of his real feelings Anne-ward. 

The only set up we get is this:

Gilbert, to be sure, was still faithful, and waded up to Green Gables every possible evening. But Gilbert’s visits were not what they once were. Anne almost dreaded them. It was very disconcerting to look up in the midst of a sudden silence and find Gilbert’s hazel eyes fixed upon her with a quite unmistakable expression in their grave depths; and it was still more disconcerting to find herself blushing hotly and uncomfortably under his gaze, just as if—just as if—well, it was very embarrassing.

My guess is that based on the paragraph above, Gilbert thought he had a chance - that and his line about how "things can't go on like this any longer." It's still odd to me in the context of the larger pattern of behavior though. Not in a bad way, more in a "tumblr, please provide your thoughts because batrachised's brain cell has quit its job without notice" way

[figayda-rights]

I'm not 100% sure how I feel about MisMag. But I do want to say that they can't just slap the word parody on something and say that's enough to make it a critique. Crown of Candy doesn't critique Game of Thrones. Coffin Run doesn't critique vampires. Weird Al doesn't critique music. Parody is just adopting a style fir humorous effect. It contains no other meaningful engagement with the source material

exactly. Something being a parody doesn't make it a critique or satire. Something being BASED on something else doesn't even necessarily make it a parody. Like, you can't just pull together commonly used themes and pop culture environments and call something parody or satire. Is Anne of Green Gables a parody of Canada? Is Percy Jackson a parody of Mythology? Or are they just Set In Those Environments.

You NEED clarity of purpose, intent, execution, and message for satire. You need to actually have the insight and want to take a look at the source material, understand how it impacts the world, and use comedy and contrast to lay bare it's problems and impacts. There is a reason good satire is hard to do, and good satirists few and far between.

This is why without insight or input from actual trans women or Jewish people, mismag could never be satire. No one else has the experience in those identities enough to hold a mirror up to the source material and in any way create satire of it's issues. The Creator is attempting to say something in a conversation she simply doesn't have the experiences to speak about.

A love letter to a wildly misremembered transphobic childhood obsession isn't satire. Even if you say ""fuck terfs"".