یه سه گانه از ال ام مونتگومری, نویسنده آن شرلی ای که عده زیادی شیفته ش هستن. منم آن شرلی رو دوست داشتما, نمیخوام متفاوت بازی دربیارم :) ولی امیلی رو بیشتر دوست داشتم. هیچوقت آن شرلی رو تموم نکردم چون یه جایگزین براش پیدا کرده بودم.
آن شرلی پرانرژی, اجتماعی و پر حرف بود. به وسیله همین چیزا اطرافیانش رو مجذوب خودش کرده بود.
ولی امیلی همون چیزاییه که آن شرلی نیست و من هستم. ساکت و مودیه, با دوستایی که مثل خودش مطرود و حتی منفورن و یواش یواش پیداشون کرده نمایش اجرا میکنن, میگن و میخندن و شیطنت میکنن ولی آخرش امیلی برمیگرده به نقطه امنش که خلوت و تنهایی خودشه. هیچوقت مثل آن شرلی یهو تخیلات و زاویه دید عجیب غریبشو به زبون نمیاره. همه ش رو پشت کاغذهای باطله مینویسه و برای خودش نگه میداره. متنفره از اینکه بهش بگن شبیه کیه و دوست داره فقط خودش شبیه خودش باشه. امیلی با همه کج خلقیا و دوست نداشتنی بودنش قهرمان ادبی بچگیای من بود و شاید هنوزم باشه.


https://taaghche.com/book/52175

Emily es una especie de hermana de Ana (de Tejas Verdes), siguen caminos separados que a veces se encuentran y por tanto, siendo tan fan de Ana, tenía que disfrutar de Emily, y así ha sido.
Es una historia más pausada y costumbrista, que se detiene más en los pequeños acontecimientos y personajes que vamos encontrando en el camino de la protagonista, quizás faltan grandes momentos o algún personaje realmente destacado, pero la lectura fluye dulce y pausada haciéndote disfrutar del camino.
Hay cosillas que no me han entusiasmado (especialmente de la parte final) pero aún así, es una novela infantil dulce y divertida, que sin tener la chispa de Ana sí que tiene otros encantos, como el amor por la literatura (y el autodescubrimiento de Emily como escritora) o esos toques de cuentos de hadas que la protagonista imagina.
Una buena lectura sencilla, que aunque pasada de moda en algunos aspectos, sigue siendo un lugar seguro y feliz al que acudir para disfrutar de la inocencia y belleza de otro tiempo.

MY OPINION: ******

I believe that this is my tenth time reading this book, and no, I am not exaggerating. I have regretfully ran out of space to write anything more about it on Goodreads so I have to make do with this (dying) blog.

I love this book. I first read it when I was still what you would consider a child, before my preteens even. I loved it then and I love it now. However, as I am older and have a different perspective on most things (I hope), my opinion has changed, although the rating has not.

This series has always been my favorite of Montgomery's, despite my deep and utter love for Anne Shirley of Green Gables. However, since I was a child, there was something about Emily that made me love her just a tiny bit more. I have not reread the Anne series in quite a while, but I'm sure that Emily will still be my favorite even if I did.

Emily Byrd Starr is a cynical, prideful, almost snobby and arrogant girl. It is a truth that needs to be acknowledged, something that I never believed or saw in my innocent child eyes when I was reading this the first couple of times around. I went back through my old reviews and realized that I never truly voiced my feelings about any of the characters, so here I am now.

Emily is not a likable character. At least, not to me. She's a very whimsical, unique, imaginative, creative child, of course, but other than that, she is arrogant, vain, spoiled, and very snobbish, as well as stubborn and a bit... crazy. She is written as a little orphan girl who is to be pitied, but it's quite hard to feel any sympathy towards her when she has a mindset of being superior to everyone simply because she is a "Starr" and a "Murray". Of course, back in those days, I'm sure that family names and your bloodline summarized your reputation in society but as a little eleven year old girl, it was not respectful or admirable in the slightest.

I've never thought of her in this way. I do believe that she does have some justification in her anger and outlook on the world but the fact that she thinks that she's better than everyone else is not an admirable trait.

Of course, Emily is a writer, and that was a very interesting part about her. I feel as if she's been a little bit of an inspiration for me. I remember being seven or eight and saying that I wanted to be a writer and climb the Alpine Path, just as Emily does. This book bears a strong influence on my childhood and my ambitions and for that, I will always love it. I loved reading Emily's letters to her father and how her writing adapted, changed, and matured along with her.

Ilse Burnley is a neglected, rapscallion, quite scary girl. She becomes one of Emily's closest friends. Her father, Doctor Burnley, has always neglected her, for reasons that only become clear towards the end (and which I will not spoil). She is nothing like a demure, sophisticated young lady should be, what with her name-calling and swearing and bad temper. However, I admire her spark and her courage and her spunk. As those were different times, I can understand why she was not considered a well-mannered girl but I could relate to her character much more than I could to Emily's.

Teddy Kent (my favorite) was a little saint as usual. I love him to the ends of the earth. Always have, always will. (I used to refer to him as my literal husband, I know, I was a strange child). I love that boy to death. He's a budding, incredibly talented, handsome artist who becomes one of Emily's dearest friends (and more than that heheh). I loved his character and how he was so caring and kind and compassionate towards everyone. I felt bad for his situation with his mother (which is only truly explained in the third book) but all in all, I loved everything about him.

Perry Miller is the last of the four close friends. He is the servant boy at New Moon and soon becomes more than that. He saved Emily's life and has become a close friend ever since. I love his spunk and determination. He is incredibly dedicated to what he wants to be: Prime Minister of Canada. He cares about his education and about his friends and family, and he's a very admirable character. Of course, he isn't the best mannered, but it just made him all the more quirky and likable.

Dean Priest. I feel as if he is worth mentioning. I don't like him, I don't like his character and frankly find him quite creepy. I understand that this was back in the day and that age gaps and relations didn't matter but he is literally a 30-something-year-old man who instantly tells himself that he's going to marry Emily (who is 11-12 by the way) in the future. That's just a little strange and something that I was a bit worried about.

The aunts (Elizabeth and Laura) were so contrasting but I think that's was what made them so equally dislikable and likable (respectively). They had their own personalities and while I felt it was a little cliche, I liked both of them. Cousin Jimmy was a sweetheart despite his queer spells.

I love Mr. Carpenter as much as I hate Ms. Brownell.

Overall, I loved this book the same as before. While I have a different outlook on it now, I'm sure that in the future, that will change some more and I will be okay with that. I would recommend this book to readers looking for a fun, friendship-centered, classic novel.

Main Character: Emily
Sidekick(s): Teddy, Ilse, Perry, Laura, Jimmy, Elizabeth, Mr. Carpenter, etc
Villain(s): Elizabeth (at times), Rhoda, Ms Brownell, pride, etc
Classic Elements: It's a classic. That's it. :)

I recently decided to reread this – one of my childhood favourites – because I am sick of people banging on about n  Anne of Green Gablesn when Emily was always my favourite Montgomery heroine. I told my mother I was rereading it and her face absolutely lit up, because Emily was her favourite too, and the copy we both read had belonged to my mother's mother.

The early chapters I found viscerally moving. I was reading in the window at Mario's and found myself snuffling away tears at Emily's loss of her beloved father and the callous way she is treated by her mother's relatives. The cute guy sitting next to me at the bench must have thought I had a cold or something.

As a kid I vividly identified with Emily's dreamy, romantic bond with nature and her florid, undisciplined ways of describing her emotions on paper. But as an adult I've come to find that style of writing embarrassing and overcooked. The gruff minimalism of the modernist heroes is much cooler nowadays, LOL.

What is still powerfully resonant, 90 years after this was first published, is the way writing is both interior and exterior: something Emily's spirit compels her to do, and a career she quite deliberately sets her sights on – an Alpine Path to fame – even though she's repeatedly warned there is no money in it and she might never succeed.

When I was a kid, Emily was my most important role model as a professional writer, and I still identify with her atavistic, urgent need to write and her vulnerability to mockery. (After my mother laughed at something I'd written in utmost teenage seriousness, I never showed her any writing I cared about again.)

I had never realised that this is a period book: from the clues here and there I think it must be set in the late 1880s or early 1890s. Also, I'm able to sense Montgomery's distance from her protagonist now – her moments of omniscience when she mentions things that would happen in the future, or describes Emily indulgently as outsiders might see her.

Whereas when I was the same age as her I immersed myself in the book with deadly earnestness. Emily's dramas were massive to me because my own world was just as small as hers. I shared her concerns, her fanciful curiosity, and her keen sense of personal dignity which is constantly being violated by uncaring adults. I still find myself fiercely taking Emily's side in the unfair disputes and philistine discipline to which she's subjected, and rejoicing in her relief at being taken seriously.

But now I can see Emily is a silly sausage whose imagination overreaches her knowledge. In much the same way, I didn't realise as a kid that most of the satire in Adrian Mole was at Adrian's expense. But I did adore that Montgomery shows Emily herself realising this: reading back over her old work and finding it embarrassing and callow.

As an adult I find some of the 'adult themes' here a bit heavy. Emily's world isn't as jolly and sunny as Anne's. Take Teddy's emotionally abusive mother, who so hates the idea of him loving anyone or anything more than her that she would destroy his future. She KILLS HIS PETS FFS, what a frickin' psycho.

And Perry's Aunt Tom, who tries to blackmail 12-year-old Emily into marrying Perry or else she won't fund Perry's education, because of the social connections attached to Emily's family background. (Generally it was really weird and insular how deterministically family is invoked in this book. People are ascribed family characteristics, whether physical, temperamental or philosophical, that they seem unable to transcend. Maybe Prince Edward Island is just that small.)

But the creepiest of all was Dean Priest the hunchbacked paedophile, who thinks he owns Emily after having rescued her, stalks her in Blair Water, grooms her in letters and is prepared to "wait for" her to get old enough for him. He is 23 years older than her. Montgomery even foreshadows what a terrible situation this is when Great-Aunt Nancy mentions the age difference between Ilse Burnley's parents and tells Emily never to marry an older man.

As a kid I never had a problem with this character, but I totally do now.

Miss Montgomery has a way. This reminded me a lot of Anne of Green Gables and I loved it. She writes the most whimsical, endearing characters and it had me laughing out loud many times.

I originally read this book as an adolescent and loved it. Re-reading it after many years, I enjoyed it just as much and appreciated it in new way. The novel is as humorous as it is endearing. I especially recommend it to fans of coming-of-age fiction fiction.

When her father dies, Emily goes to live with her maiden aunts at the New Moon farm. She dreams of becoming a writer someday, but her strict Aunt Elizabeth has forbidden such frivolous things as writing poetry or reading novels.

Reading this for the 12th or 13th time, I enjoy it just as much, if not more, than ever!

Emily is such a sensitive and courageous little person. This book has such extreme emotions, and explores really deep feelings and experiences. Emily deals with terrible grief and fear, but also finds exquisite joy and beauty.

All the characters are so vivid and interesting. They are all so different, and each person feels real. The writing pulls you into the story. The plot has something funny and weird and new in every chapter.

Such a delight to reread this old favorite!

بیشتر از پنج ستاره هم اگه بود می‌دادم به این کتاب.
حسش لطیف‌تر از برگ گل‌ه.

خیلی خیلیی دوستش داشتم..
چه اونموقع که بچه بودم و خوندم‌ش و چه الان.
خیلی جالبه که بعد از ۱۵ سال، هنوزم اندازه همون بچگیم تونست منو تحت تاثیر قرار بده..
خودم فکرشو نمی‌کردم..
بی‌نهایت دوستش دارم و همراه با امیلی توی اون بیشه‌زار کودکی کردم❤️

I initially gave this 5 stars but I do feel it's more of a 4 star book for me personally. I think Anne just packs a bigger punch and I did lose some momentum with the plot in this one. I do love Emily as a character and see 12-year old me in so many aspects of Emily's character! I do think Dean is .... a creep. We'll see what I think of the rest of the trilogy.

At the beginning of this book Emily Byrd Starr finds out that her father is dying. When he dies, her mother's side of the family, the Murrays-known for their pride and a little haughtiness in some members-, all come to pay respects to Douglas Starr -- and to decide what to do with Emily. Not knowing who should take her in, they draw lots and Aunt Elizabeth is the one who gets to raise Emily from now on. Emily doesn't care much for Aunt Elizabeth, but really likes the other two residents of New Moon: Aunt Laura, and we can't forget Cousin Jimmy, whom everyone says is simple (being knocked down a well accidentally by Elizabeth as a child), though Emily just can't see it. Emily has to go to New Moon and throughout the book we read of her trials, triumphs, and of the mischief she can sometimes make. Towards the end of the book, she and Aunt Elizabeth come to tolerate one another more
and even love each other.

At the beginning of the book I really didn't want to read it and thought about just putting it away, it just felt a little dark, I don't mean dark as in creepy, but it wasn't very cheerful. I'm glad that I didn't put it away. Although, there is a different feel to the book than Anne of Green Gables has, I still really enjoyed it.

I would like to name a few similarities between Anne Shirley and Emily Starr:
1. They both have a vivid imagination, though Anne's is a bit larger.
2. They both have to deal with a strict guardian, though Aunt Elizabeth makes Marilla seem lovely.
3. They both love to dramatize, making things bigger than they appear.
I'm sure there are more similarities, but those are the ones that I can remember.
I'm going to give Emily of New Moon 5 out of 5 stars! If you enjoy Anne of Green Gables, then I suggest you give this book a chance!


EDIT: I love Emily as much as the first time I met her. It's so funny that I couldn't remember much of this book before I reread it, but after I started reading it, I remembered it clearly. I love L.M. Montomgery's books so much!

I read through just about all the L.M. Montgomerys last year, except for Emily. The main reason was that I simply couldn't find Emily of New Moon (still can't find the book). There was a small, faint secondary cause in that I never loved Emily Byrd Starr as much as Anne Shirley or Pat Gardiner or Valancy Stirling. I don't know why. Perhaps the proto-sixties name? Perhaps the more strongly emphasized "queerness" of the girl – where Anne is queer in her intelligence and dreaminess, Emily is all that and more. (I always wonder if there really are children like Emily – or Anne, or Paul, or, straying outside of LMM, Jane Eyre. I mean, I think I can safely say I was what LMM often calls a "queer" child, but I don't think I attempted the vocabulary these kids do.) Perhaps it is the tendency toward first-person narrative through Emily's letters to her father; even when I was a child I was not fond of a child's point of view.

Or it might have been the whole story's beginning. It's not fun, and it's not fast. Young Emily's father is ill; before he can tell her properly, Ellen Green (the Help) announces to Emily that he is dying; he spends a sweet week or so assuring her of his lack of fear and propping up her courage, and then dies. And the next several chapters dwell on the days that follow, on Emily's pain and others' inevitable misinterpretation of her brave front, and the negotiations amongst her mother's kin about who will take charge of her. Six chapters later she arrives at New Moon (not a spoiler, since, you know, it's in the title), and begins her new life. It was beautifully done, but where Anne's story starts with hope and suspense and Pat's starts with security and love, Emily's starts with fear and death. And yet it isn't a death like others in the Montgomery canon: we get to know Douglas Starr just a little before he's gone. It's a loss – he would have been a terrific character to spend more time with, especially since fathers are scarce in LMM's PEI – and I confess to being moved by his explanation to Emily about what was happening, but if I cried (and I'm not saying I did) it was more out of sympathy for the bereaved child and the beauty of the writing than the grief that is such a part of other losses in Anne's and Pat's worlds.

Or, perhaps, it was the foreknowledge that however things work out, there will be pain for someone. Emily is the object of two of her friends' affections: Teddy and Perry both, in their own ways, intend to marry her one day. And then of course there is Dean. (One of my favorite moments in anything I've read this year is when Dean tells her he will wait for her – and Emily interprets this in a much more immediate setting.) At least two of these as men will be disappointed, and it is fairly clear that it will not be a minor disappointment. The stage is set for a tragedy of anxiety on Emily's part and crushed hopes for two people that she loves but is not in love with … Happily, while I have my strong suspicions, I can't remember how it all does play out, and I can hold out hope for the one I think will be hurt most if he is not the one. (It is rather spectacular reading this as if for the first time – new Lucy Maude Montgomery! Rare and wonderful.)
t
I do like Emily, although … no. No, I don't love her as I love Anne (or Valancy or Pat). I wonder if they would like each other; I think they both have the gift of friendship (as Anne is somewhere described) – Anne rather more than Emily - but I don't somehow see them being deeply bound kindred spirits and bosom friends. They are, perhaps, too much alike while still – thank goodness – being very different. L.M.M. did not repeat herself. Despite the vocabulary, the cleverness, the orphan status, the dreaminess, the poetry, Emily is still very different from Anne, and it sets some expectations on their heads. What would have gutted Anne and kept her out of school for months or forever just makes Emily mad and determined to not be gotten the better of: she is knocked down, but bounces back up at once, writes about what happened in an outpouring of a letter to her father, and puts it behind her. (I wish I could do that so well.) Anne never lacked for courage, but her spirit was over-sensitive (I know whereof I speak). Perhaps it is partly her adversarial friendship with vivid, ferocious Ilse that helps Emily to put conflicts aside and move on; Anne's best friend is mild and willing to follow where she leads, and not as quick and sharp as she. The two heroines' trials and tribulations are not wildly different in essence – each has teacher issues, each has hair issues, each has a frightening experience in a spare room bed (leading me to wonder if Emily grew out of discarded drafts for Anne) – but the details and circumstances are very different.

I do love Emily's companions, both imaginary and flesh and blood. I was never this creative in invisible friends; I had an invisible horse (in appearance and name taken from a book, I admit) who ran alongside the car when we went anywhere, and I could see her following the topography of the verge, jumping over obstacles and keeping up easily. I'm surprised I didn't steal the Wind Woman. Emily's flesh-and-blood friends, Ilse and Teddy and Perry, are well-realized and realistic, and I enjoyed all three of them: Ilse Burnley, the poor wild child whose mother vanished so long ago and whose father won't forgive anyone for it, especially his daughter; hired boy Perry Miller (poor in a different way) who says he's going to be Prime Minister one day and who is confirmed in this prediction by the narrator; Teddy Kent (poor in yet a third way), the dreamy sweet boy who draws even more fluently than Emily writes and whose mother is extremely alarming in this age of Criminal Minds and CSI.

Something that shocked me a little was how high kitten mortality is in this book. I don't remember this in other LMM's; I remember the cat Anne & co tried and failed to euthanize (Rusty), but otherwise all deaths are of natural causes. At New Moon and its surrounds, though, there is carnage. I don't remember being bothered by it as a teen or tween or whatever I was when I read this first, though, which surprises me; I would have thought it would leave scars.

As the drowning of superfluous cats is a commonplace in this setting, and unthinkable here and now, so are a few other things through the book. Hopefully, for one, Mrs. Kent, whose attitudes are commonly known, would, today, have been helped or separated from Teddy. Another: the teaching methods of Miss Brownell would – hopefully – have been checked long ago. And for another – and this is not, I think, so positive as the rest – the amount of time Dean Priest spends with Emily wandering the countryside would be looked askance upon today. A thirty-six year old man simply can't spend hours upon hours alone with a twelve year old girl without raising eyebrows, if not alarms. And it's horrible that it has to be so – and it really does have to be so. Then, there was never the hint of a suspicion of an insinuation that the relationship was anything other than wholesome and happy and nurturing. Now the police and child welfare services would have been alerted after the first visit.

The writing is still a source of great joy for me. I've decided my attachment to adjective and description (and italics) goes back to early and prolonged exposure to (along with Tolkien) L.M. Montgomery:

Blair Water people thought Cousin Jimmy a failure and a mental weakling, but he dwelt in an ideal world of which none of them knew anything. He had recited his poems a hundred times thus as he boiled the pigs' potatoes. The ghosts of a score of autumns haunted the clump of spruces for him. He was an odd, ridiculous figure enough, bent and wrinkled and unkempt, gesticulating awkwardly as he recited, but it was his hour. He was no longer "simple Jimmy Murray" but a prince of his own realm. For a little while, he was strong, and young, and splendid, and beautiful, a credited master of song to a listening, enraptured world. None of his prosperous, sensible Blair Water neighbors ever lived through such an hour. He would not have exchanged places with one of them.

Emily listened to him; felt vaguely that, if it had not been for that unlucky push into the New Moon well, this queer little man beside her might have stood in the presence of kings. But Elizabeth had pushed him into the New Moon well, and as a consequence he boiled pigs' potatoes and recited to Emily.

Well, if over-using adjective helps me approach what LMM accomplished, so be it. The books would not be the same without the profusion of flowers and trees, of sunsets and seascapes, and I would never want them to be different.

As for the audiobook… Putting aside the fact that the cover illustration (presumably for the CD) shows a little blonde girl... Susan O'Malley is not my favorite of narrators. I'm wondering if her older Emily is a more pleasant voice than her eleven-year-old Emily, if she recorded the other books in the trilogy (note: she did not – the other Emily books are not up on Audible); I'm afraid I don't admire her children's voices. Or her men's. Laura's is nice, I have to say. Overall, though, I'm sorry to say she reminds me of someone I speak to fairly often at work, whose response to a courteous "how are you?" is always "*sigh* Oh, okay…" There's an inherent discontent to that tone, and it doesn't fit.

There are some audio typos which are extremely unfortunate, and I'm puzzled as to why a publisher's recording was not … er, proofread. Errors like this in Librivox I can understand and pardon, but in something created for sale I don't get it. I wonder, though, how it works; does it ever happen that some lackey with the publisher listens to the audiobook with the text in hand? Or does it all depend on whether errors are caught at the time of recording? Examples: Instead of "a can of bait" she says "bat". A sky is powered with stars rather than powdered with them. One mistake which illustrates the desirability to use different initials for major characters was a reference to "Emily Green" instead of Ellen Green – that was startling. So was an instance of "Rhoda Starr" instead of Rhoda Stuart (and oh why are the only Stewarts or Stuarts in LMM this nasty little bint and Christine?). Other times a sentence's meaning is shifted by emphasis: she inserts a pause after "autumn" in the phrase "her first autumn there", which makes it sound as though it is Emily's first autumn ever rather than her first at New Moon. There is a great deal of that throughout, a sort of lack of conviction at the end of a sentence undermining the conclusion of it; it's just short of the obnoxious habit of a great many teenagers to end all sentences on an upward, questioning inflection.

Even so, I became used to it and I'm rather sorry there is no audiobook for Emily Climbs or Emily's Quest. But … the book is still not one of my favorites among the LMM's, for some reason I still can't put a finger on. I love Cousin Jimmy. I love Dean Priest. I enjoy the foursome of children, and Aunt Laura. I came to admire Aunt Elizabeth. But somehow none of it connects as deeply.

I won't make this a bi-fold review, but I watched the first episode of the Canadian TV series based on Emily, and it was bizarre: Emily befriends an Indian boy and protects him at school, and her father falls from a ladder while fixing the roof and slowly expires from that. Her mother haunts her, and so do other apparitions, and altogether it made me wonder what book the program's writers were referencing (and whether they were mixing medications). Emily is a solitary and strange ten-year-old, and does not go to school. Her father is consumptive, and has been slowly dying for years. Her mother is a distant lovely memory, and her imagination never supplies such creations as shown. (And Stephen McHattie plays Uncle Jimmy - ? Whoa.) (Apropos of nothing, he was born in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. I've been through there – I love that name.) I do wonder why folk undertake to make films out of books when the films bear almost no resemblance to the books. And how on earth do people go from the lovely, warm, humane prose of L.M. Montgomery to the travesties I have seen on television? It is – pardon the jump to another old favorite – inconceivable.

(Well for heaven's sake – why didn't I find this when I was hunting? Emily is available on Project Gutenberg Australia.)

4/4.5 stars*