Book Review: Emily Climbs

[osprey_archer]

On and upward with Emily Byrd Starr as she ascends the Alpine path in Emily Climbs, the Alpine path being here of course not a literal mountain but Emily's road to literary success. In this book, Emily is off to Shrewsbury for high school - if she will promise her Aunt Elizabeth to give up writing while she's at school. "I can't promise that," Emily says, with the misery of despair, for she knows that Aunt Elizabeth won't be able to understand that it's not that Emily refuses, but that she simply knows she cannot keep that promise any more than she could promise to stop breathing.

Fortunately Cousin Jimmy intervenes, and Emily has only to promise to give up story-writing. ("Excellent," says her previous teacher Mr. Carpenter, who believes that this will help curb Emily's excesses.) Poems and diary entries remain fair game, and poems, therefore, are what Emily begins to send off to editors - to receive, at first, a steady stream of rejection slips.

Emotionally Emily's growth as a writer is one that any young (or indeed not-so-young) writer can relate to, but there's also a wealth of practical advice for a young writer circa 1925. Type your manuscripts if possible, at any rate only write on one side of the paper, a typed rejection is more personal (and thus more encouraging) than a printed one, etc. Montgomery is offering the budding young writers in her audience a how-to guide.

She is also, as usual, telling a cracking good story. This book has some of the best set-pieces in the whole trilogy, like the blizzard that forces Emily, Ilse, Teddy, and Perry to take shelter in an abandoned house overnight. Emily's eyes catch on Teddy's and she's shaken to her core by the sense that she's falling in love with him... only to forget about it entirely when a chance fancy of Teddy's sets off the idea for a story in Emily's head, and she lies awake all night working out A Seller of Dreams!

And then there's the bit where Emily and Ilse set off round the country to canvass for subscriptions, and get lost, and spend the night beneath the stars in a haystack. They lay awake a long time talking, then Ilse falls asleep, and Emily gazes up at the whole turning dome of the sky and the stars above her... Just beautiful, one of my favorite scenes in the trilogy. Montgomery is so good at capturing that feeling of being overwhelmed by the loveliness of an experience, which can be so hard to explain to anyone else.

Here also Emily's second sight makes another appearance: there's a missing child in the neighborhood, and in her sleep Emily arises and draws a picture of the abandoned house where the child has gotten himself trapped. Emily's appalled by the eeriness of the experience and begs Ilse not to mention it to anyone, which is such a real and human way to react, and would drive me up the wall in a fantasy novel, but it works here, perhaps because Emily's second sight is only one strand among many rather than the main driver of the plot.

(Still fascinated by the fact that L. M. Montgomery just blithely gave the heroine of her realistic novel psychic powers. Does anyone have a read on when an author could no longer get away with this? In the 1930s, Mary Grant Bruce in the Billabong series elaborates an entire theory about how telepathy is kind of like radio, actually.)

And finally, there's the wonderful scene where Emily meets fancy New York editor Miss Royal, who grew up on PEI and is visiting an aunt. Miss Royal brought along her beloved dog, Chu-Chin, whom Emily meets on the drive up to the aunt's house. Chu-Chin bounces into Miss Royal's aunt's house and proceeds to knock everything over while Emily attempts to interview a tight-lipped Miss Royal... only for it to turn out that Miss Royal thinks the dog is Emily's! Amazing. Incredible. Miss Royal begins the next chapter by laughing so hard she nearly falls over, and I always laugh too.

The dog misunderstanding cleared up, Miss Royal offers Emily the chance of a lifetime: come live with Miss Royal in New York City, and Miss Royal will introduce Emily around to her editor friends, and smooth Emily's ascent up the Alpine path! Emily tells herself that she yearns to go, but Aunt Elizabeth will never let her; is appalled when Aunt Elizabeth says she can decide for herself; attempts to convince herself that she's definitely going to take this chance of a lifetime; and then with great relief realizes that she wants to stay at New Moon. Miss Royal, appalled, tells her that she'll never develop as a writer if she stays in this poky little place, but Emily insists that she can study human nature here as well as in New York, and finishes the book once again committing herself to her chosen path: not only a writer, but a Canadian writer, chronicling the life of her own people on Prince Edward Island.

Next up: you may be surprised to learn that we are not going directly to Emily's Quest, but instead taking a detour to The Blue Castle. Perhaps Montgomery (like Emily when she conceives A Seller of Dreams) was simply so possessed by the idea of Valancy that she just had to put her trilogy aside for a bit to work the story out.

Comments

[sovay]

(Still fascinated by the fact that L. M. Montgomery just blithely gave the heroine of her realistic novel psychic powers. Does anyone have a read on when an author could no longer get away with this? In the 1930s, Mary Grant Bruce in the Billabong series elaborates an entire theory about how telepathy is kind of like radio, actually.)

Sayers' Murder Must Advertise (1933) has an apparent drug-induced flash of telepathy on the part of one of the antagonists, when she perceives a hanged man inside Wimsey's thoughts: he is pursuing her as a lead on a murder investigation.

I have almost certainly mentioned it before, but the title of Margery Allingham's The Mind Readers (1965) absolutely means. It feels to me more of a piece with the parapsychology of the 1960's, however, than any kind of holdover from Montgomery's period.

Perhaps Montgomery (like Emily when she conceives A Seller of Dreams) was simply so possessed by the idea of Valancy that she just had to put her trilogy aside for a bit to work the story out.

I believe it was actually in conversation with you however many aaagh seven years ago that the likeness between Barney Snaith and Dean Priest clicked into focus for me, after which it made a lot of sense to find out that Montgomery had written The Blue Castle while stalled on Emily's Quest: I had wondered if it was an accident of personal archetype, but in context of the timeline feels a lot more like a kind of self-AU.

[osprey_archer]

Yes, I feel that 1960s parapsychology is a very different beast than earlier books where characters have the second sight - although the later Billabong books are perhaps a bridge between the two, with Norah and company talking about tuning into psychic radio waves?

The Barney Snaith-Dean Priest connection is interesting - are you thinking that Montgomery needed to write a version where the heroine could get together with the Snaith/Priest character, where it would be the right and dream-fulfilling choice for her? Whereas in the Emily books, the brief get-together with Dean happens after he crushes her dreams by telling her that her book isn't very good.

[sovay]

DW ate my original comment, trying again—

although the later Billabong books are perhaps a bridge between the two, with Norah and company talking about tuning into psychic radio waves?

The use of technical language for paranormal experiences is surprisingly old! I've seen it in fiction as far back as Kipling's "Wireless" (1902). I think there are just a lot of different concepts of extrasensory whatever blurring and blending in this era. Its science fiction and horror are the same way. Emily's second sight feels deliberately folkloric to me.

Mary Stewart's Touch Not the Cat (1976) rests its romantic premise on a straight-up soulbond, the suspense part of the novel deriving from the fact that although the heroine has an intimate mental map of the man with whom she has been telepathically linked since childhood, she has no physical idea of what he actually looks like.

are you thinking that Montgomery needed to write a version where the heroine could get together with the Snaith/Priest character, where it would be the right and dream-fulfilling choice for her?

Yes: the attractive world-traveled outsider-dreamer with the tawny hair, the whimsical, sensitive mouth, the touch of cynicism, and the bitter laugh as real romantic hero, not bona fide terrible idea; I have not been able to find any literature on it, which is nuts, but the characterization seems far too close for coincidence, especially since Montgomery doesn't otherwise seem to use this model of dude as a recurring type. The age gap is not a factor with Barney and neither is disability, but his reputation is worse than Dean's. They are of course majorly differentiated by the fact that Barney can support Valancy for who she is while Dean falls down so hard on that front that after more than thirty years I'm still disappointed in him, but visually, it really struck me that even with all the similar descriptions, Barney's eyes are Emily-violet. Dean's are Priest-green.

(Totally and fortunately absent from Valancy's relationship with Barney is also the thing where Emily's relationship with Dean is consistently vectored through her dead father—by both of them—which is so weird that I can't even tell if the books notice it. As probably discussed the last time it came around on your journal, Emily Climbs sincerely doesn't work for me as a novel, which means I have spent a lot of time since childhood thinking about it.)

[osprey_archer]

Emily's second sight is of a piece with her pointed ears and her occasional comparisons to the fairy folk. She's in this world but not fully of it.

Mary Stewart's Touch Not the Cat has a different dynamic, since it's definitely written and marketed as a fantasy novel. In Emily or Billabong, the books are framed as completely realistic fiction, but the heroine just occasionally has a flash of clairvoyance that happens to save someone's life.

I will keep the Barney-Dean parallels in mind as I read The Blue Castle! May perhaps expand on the theme when I make my Blue Castle post.

Are you thinking of Emily's Quest perhaps as the novel that doesn't work for you? There's actually very little Dean in Emily Climbs - he's mostly abroad while Emily's in high school in Shrewsbury. But in the third book (Emily's Quest) he's going to come sweeping back in to crush her dreams by telling her that her book A Seller of Dreams is no good, and nearly marrying her during her resultant depression, and then admitting the book was good after she's thrown him over etc. etc.

[sovay]

Mary Stewart's Touch Not the Cat has a different dynamic, since it's definitely written and marketed as a fantasy novel.

How so? I'm willing to believe it is now marketed as a paranormal romance, but the original jacket copy does not treat it differently from her other novels of romantic suspense—a heroine, a mystery, an ambiguous hero—except for explaining that what used to be called the second sight is now recognized as telepathy, which could be realist in the '70's. It's on the Gothic end of her novels of romantic suspense, but it's not like Thornyhold (1988) which has explicit witchcraft and feels to me as though it falls between her Arthurian novels and her romances, or her children's novels which are fantasies. [edit] Doylistically, it makes sense to me that she wrote Touch Not the Cat in among her Merlin novels, but it's otherwise a return to form.

Are you thinking of Emily's Quest perhaps as the novel that doesn't work for you?

Yes; that was just mistyping as I tried to rebuild my comment.

[osprey_archer]

Because the otherwise realistic novels of the early- to mid-twentieth century that feature telepathy always portray it as an intermittent force the characters can't fully control that comes only in times of great need, whereas in Touch Not the Cat the heroine and hero basically have their own personal IM system, like something out of Willo Davis Roberts' children's fantasy The Girl with the Silver Eyes or one of Lois Duncan's supernatural thrillers.

I know there was a lot of interest in ESP, clairvoyance, etc. etc. in the 1970s, but I'd need to see some pretty strong evidence of mainstream belief that some people can speak to each other telepathically as if they were talking on the phone to accept that this was seen as a realistic romantic suspense novel rather than romantic suspense novel with a fun supernatural twist.

[landofnowhere]

I remember really liking this one!

only for it to turn out that Miss Royal thinks the dog is Emily's!

I'm confused -- why would Miss Royal think her own beloved dog is Emily's? Wouldn't she recognize it? But that is a very LMM sort of episode :-)

[osprey_archer]

Emily assumes the dog is Miss Royal's because it's in the yard in front of Miss Royal's aunt's house, but in fact it's not Miss Royal's dog either. It turns out that it's a badly behaved neighbor dog that Miss Royal in her short visit hasn't met yet, hence the fact that she thinks Emily simply brought along her disastrously behaved pet.

[landofnowhere]

Oh, yes, that is so very much an LMM plot!

[littlerhymes]

Emily actually agreeing to give up story writing is one of the bravest things she ever did tbh. Let the girl write! Maybe the excess bottled up fiction manifested itself as psychic powers - actually that reminds me of Roald Dahl's Matilda, which is far outside the date range in question, but which basically does just that. Of course the counterargument is Billabong since I cannot imagine Norah writing a poem at all.

[osprey_archer]

Aunt Elizabeth objects indignantly: the girl can write diary entries and poetry! Isn't that enough trash for any youngster?

Oooh, I do like the Matilda connection! But, yes, hard to tie it into Billabong, since Norah is so disgustingly healthy and outdoorsy and not bottling up anything at all.

nnozomo below notes that there's also a little irruption of magic in the Swallows and Amazons books: Titty has a gift for dowsing! Which is another mark against the Matilda theory, for Titty also isn't bottling up enormous mental powers or artistic longings. But another mark in favor of the idea that this sort of thing was truly all over children's literature in the first half of the twentieth century! A bit of second sight, a spot of dowsing, why not.

[littlerhymes]

It's also a handy way to write yourself out of a plot hole. We should bring it back!

[osprey_archer]

I'll just add a touch of second sight into Sage somewhere! ...Okay maybe not Sage, I cannot really imagine any of the main characters having second sight (maybe Georgie could have a touch?). But I will keep it in mind for future books.

[nnozomi]

Emily's appalled by the eeriness of the experience and begs Ilse not to mention it to anyone, which is such a real and human way to react, and would drive me up the wall in a fantasy novel, but it works here
This reminds me of Titty Walker's unnerved reaction to her ability to dowse in Pigeon Post. I've never been sure whether to class that as psychic powers or not... .

[osprey_archer]

Oh oh, I'd forgotten all about Titty's experience! Thank you for reminding me! Another example in an early-to-mid twentieth century children's book of a characters has a special power, and it's unnerving, and the book just moves blithely on, as this is merely one incident in its ongoing and mostly realistic plot.

[lokifan]

I think you could possibly put The Secret Garden here? Mr Craven's psychic visions, the on-the-edge-of-fantasy relationship between Dickon and animals, all of them and the garden - it's not quite fantasy imo.

[osprey_archer]

Yes, I think so. Frances Hodgson Burnett tiptoes right up to the line of making it a fantasy novel without ever quite putting a toe over.

[genarti]

Dorothy Gilman has the realistic novel with sudden telepathy in several of her books -- I remember it most dramatically in Caravan (1992), where there's a pivotal moment when the heroine breaks a pot with her mind in an extreme of desperation, but it's there in several Mrs. Pollifax books too. But it startled me to read in the 1990s, and she started publishing in the 1970s, so maybe she got away with it a bit longer than many because she'd started in an era where people did that kind of thing more...?

[osprey_archer]

I don't remember any sudden telepathy in the Mrs. Pollifax books! Clearly I wasn't on the lookout for it yet... and probably it wasn't quite as dramatic as the heroine breaking a pot with her mind?

Haven't read Caravan. After I finished the Mrs. Pollifax books, I meant to read some of Gilman's standalones, but instead I drifted, as one does. Perhaps I should take this as a sign!

[genarti]

Ha, yes, nowhere near as dramatic! Mostly in the Mrs. Pollifax books, she meets somebody very wise and attuned to the transcendent universe, or somebody who has second sight and gets hunches; it's all in the plausibly deniable "well she believes them and the narration is clearly supportive of this but this COULD just be somebody very chill/insightful/etc within normal limits" way, as far as I can recall, with a few characters who get some extra narrative vindication thrown behind it. Very Frances Hodgson Burnett, only slightly less so.

I haven't read Caravan since I was a teenager and I cannot at ALL vouch for the level of unfortunate orientalism it may contain; I suspect it has a good bit, but I've forgotten all the details, so maybe it holds up better than I fear! It's really only that moment that stuck in my head. (Partly because my dad about threw the book across the room when he read it; he maintained for years that he didn't like fantasy books, but I think it's actually that he doesn't like to be surprised by fantasy content. If he knows going in that something is full of time travel or wizards he's fine with that.)

[osprey_archer]

Oh yes, I'm definitely remembering Mrs. Pollifax gift for attracting wise friends who sometimes know things they really have no way of knowing. A mirror of Mrs. Pollifax's superpower of being warm and welcoming and quickly discovering whether she can trust people! It never occurred to me to think of those as having any relation to telepathy, but now that you mention it...

I will be approaching my further Frances Hodgson Burnett reads with a weather eye toward any mentions of magic/telepathy/what have you. So far I don't think anything of hers that I've read has definitely crossed that magical line, but she does like to skirt right along it - maybe nothing technically magical happens in The Secret Garden, but it feels more magical than a lot of books with dragons and wizards and so forth and so on.

I don't know that I would throw the book across the wall at surprise!telepathic pot smashing, but I do feel that would cross the boundaries of fair play for me. A spot of telepathy here or there, a clairvoyant rescue even, all right; but blowing up an entire pot with the powers of your mind!

[ethelmay]

In Gilman's memoir I was shocked to find her suddenly going in for pyramids to keep her food from spoiling. I had totally forgotten that 1970s mania for pyramids possessing magical and/or as-yet-unexplained-by-science properties.

[osprey_archer]

How are pyramids supposed to keep your food from spoiling? Do you construct a mini-pyramid and put the food under it, or something?

[sovay]

In Gilman's memoir I was shocked to find her suddenly going in for pyramids to keep her food from spoiling.

I would never have guessed that she was serious about it from the scene in The Tightrope Walker (1979) in which the romantic hero is discovered meditating under a collapsible pyramid in his apartment. The heroine is nonplussed and so was I the reader.