...
Show More
Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, written by Kate Douglas Wiggin and published in 1903, is a charming little book. I noted in my journal, “This is a dear little book. It moves along briskly, and the only reason it's taking me so long to read is that I'm reading only a little at a time.” In many aspects, it resembles other girls' coming-of-age novels like Anne of Green Gables - Anne of Avonlea, Emily of New Moon, and An Old-Fashioned Girl. However, Rebecca is a unique character. She is as imaginative, positive, and poetic as Anne Shirley, but her family circumstances add different dimensions to her personality.
Rebecca Rowena Randall is the second of seven children in the struggling Randall family. They reside on a farm in rural Maine in the late 19th century. Her father has passed away, and her mother sends her to live with her aunts, Miranda and Jane. Miranda is irritable, parsimonious, and extremely practical, while Jane is gentle, good at peacemaking, but still unaccustomed to children. Although they initially wanted Rebecca's older sister, their intentions are good: they are committed to getting Rebecca an education to improve her family's situation. The book follows Rebecca's years from age ten to seventeen. She is an optimistic and capable girl, standing out from everyone else in her limited world of the village and farms due to her imagination and quick mind. Her prospects are promising because of her talents in writing, music, acting, public speaking, and art. This, combined with her sweet nature, love for people, and yearning for broader experiences, makes her a remarkable character. However, her imaginative ways conflict with Aunt Miranda's insistence that she be more ordinary and down-to-earth. Rebecca excels in school, but winning Aunt Miranda's heart proves to be a challenge.
The story itself is so similar to Anne of Green Gables that I couldn't help but compare and contrast the two as I read. I wish I could have stopped myself, as it affected my enjoyment. If I had read Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm first, I would have undoubtedly loved it more. Mostly, I had an issue with the narrator/author, Kate Douglas Wiggin. She is not as lyrical or positive as L. M. Montgomery, and thus, she undermines her heroine. I felt that Rebecca would have been better served by L. M. Montgomery. Wiggin has a tendency to be harsh on her characters (except for Rebecca!), almost cautioning you not to like them too much, while Montgomery makes you like almost everyone, even the unpleasant ones. Aunt Miranda is mean and miserly, Emma Jane (Rebecca's closest friend) is dreadfully dull, Mr. and Mrs. Cobb (an older couple who dote on Rebecca) are sweet but simple-minded, and Miss Dearborn (the schoolteacher) is ignorant. Rebecca's vitality made me frown upon most of the other characters because of how Mrs. Wiggin critically contrasted them with Rebecca. But Rebecca herself would be a wonderful friend - sweet, personable, intelligent, and committed to doing what is right. She is a bright light in her world.
Despite my annoyance with this negativity, I realized that there is a special strength to the author's story and style. Because Mrs. Wiggin doesn't paint life in rosy hues, Rebecca's triumphs seem even more remarkable. She rises above her circumstances with a mindset of hope and joy. Mrs. Wiggin writes thoughtfully and spiritually, imparting life lessons to her readers and forging a bond between them and the heroine. I loved some of her insightful messages so much that I copied them into my journal. For example, “The girl's [Rebecca's] eyes were soft and tender, and the heart within her stretched a little and grew, grew in sweetness and intuition and depth of feeling. It had looked into another heart, felt it beat, and heard it sigh, and that is how all hearts grow.” Another beautiful passage is, “You might harness Rebecca to the heaviest plow, and while she had youth on her side, she would always remember the green earth under her feet and the blue sky over her head. Her physical eye saw the cake she was stirring and the loaf she was kneading; her physical ear heard the kitchen fire crackling and the teakettle singing, but ever and anon her fancy mounted on pinions, renewed itself, renewed it strength in the upper air. The bare little farmhouse was a fixed fact, but she had many a palace into which she now and then withdrew, palaces peopled with stirring and gallant figures belonging to the world of romance, palaces not without their heavenly apparitions, too, breathing celestial counsel. Every time she retired to her citadel of dreams she came forth radiant and refreshed, as one who has seen the evening star or heard sweet music or smelled the rose of joy.” And finally, “I look like a drudge,” said Rebecca mysteriously, with laughing eyes, “but really I am a princess; you mustn't tell, but this is only a disguise; I wear it for reasons of state. … why, Mother, it's enough joy just to be here in the world on a day like this, to have the chance of seeing, feeling, doing, becoming!” Aren't these passages lovely? Through Rebecca (the only one who seems to have it just right), Mrs. Wiggin presents a message of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and of sacrificing for others to make their lives brighter.
Rebecca Rowena Randall is the second of seven children in the struggling Randall family. They reside on a farm in rural Maine in the late 19th century. Her father has passed away, and her mother sends her to live with her aunts, Miranda and Jane. Miranda is irritable, parsimonious, and extremely practical, while Jane is gentle, good at peacemaking, but still unaccustomed to children. Although they initially wanted Rebecca's older sister, their intentions are good: they are committed to getting Rebecca an education to improve her family's situation. The book follows Rebecca's years from age ten to seventeen. She is an optimistic and capable girl, standing out from everyone else in her limited world of the village and farms due to her imagination and quick mind. Her prospects are promising because of her talents in writing, music, acting, public speaking, and art. This, combined with her sweet nature, love for people, and yearning for broader experiences, makes her a remarkable character. However, her imaginative ways conflict with Aunt Miranda's insistence that she be more ordinary and down-to-earth. Rebecca excels in school, but winning Aunt Miranda's heart proves to be a challenge.
The story itself is so similar to Anne of Green Gables that I couldn't help but compare and contrast the two as I read. I wish I could have stopped myself, as it affected my enjoyment. If I had read Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm first, I would have undoubtedly loved it more. Mostly, I had an issue with the narrator/author, Kate Douglas Wiggin. She is not as lyrical or positive as L. M. Montgomery, and thus, she undermines her heroine. I felt that Rebecca would have been better served by L. M. Montgomery. Wiggin has a tendency to be harsh on her characters (except for Rebecca!), almost cautioning you not to like them too much, while Montgomery makes you like almost everyone, even the unpleasant ones. Aunt Miranda is mean and miserly, Emma Jane (Rebecca's closest friend) is dreadfully dull, Mr. and Mrs. Cobb (an older couple who dote on Rebecca) are sweet but simple-minded, and Miss Dearborn (the schoolteacher) is ignorant. Rebecca's vitality made me frown upon most of the other characters because of how Mrs. Wiggin critically contrasted them with Rebecca. But Rebecca herself would be a wonderful friend - sweet, personable, intelligent, and committed to doing what is right. She is a bright light in her world.
Despite my annoyance with this negativity, I realized that there is a special strength to the author's story and style. Because Mrs. Wiggin doesn't paint life in rosy hues, Rebecca's triumphs seem even more remarkable. She rises above her circumstances with a mindset of hope and joy. Mrs. Wiggin writes thoughtfully and spiritually, imparting life lessons to her readers and forging a bond between them and the heroine. I loved some of her insightful messages so much that I copied them into my journal. For example, “The girl's [Rebecca's] eyes were soft and tender, and the heart within her stretched a little and grew, grew in sweetness and intuition and depth of feeling. It had looked into another heart, felt it beat, and heard it sigh, and that is how all hearts grow.” Another beautiful passage is, “You might harness Rebecca to the heaviest plow, and while she had youth on her side, she would always remember the green earth under her feet and the blue sky over her head. Her physical eye saw the cake she was stirring and the loaf she was kneading; her physical ear heard the kitchen fire crackling and the teakettle singing, but ever and anon her fancy mounted on pinions, renewed itself, renewed it strength in the upper air. The bare little farmhouse was a fixed fact, but she had many a palace into which she now and then withdrew, palaces peopled with stirring and gallant figures belonging to the world of romance, palaces not without their heavenly apparitions, too, breathing celestial counsel. Every time she retired to her citadel of dreams she came forth radiant and refreshed, as one who has seen the evening star or heard sweet music or smelled the rose of joy.” And finally, “I look like a drudge,” said Rebecca mysteriously, with laughing eyes, “but really I am a princess; you mustn't tell, but this is only a disguise; I wear it for reasons of state. … why, Mother, it's enough joy just to be here in the world on a day like this, to have the chance of seeing, feeling, doing, becoming!” Aren't these passages lovely? Through Rebecca (the only one who seems to have it just right), Mrs. Wiggin presents a message of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and of sacrificing for others to make their lives brighter.