Product Description

Mary Henley Rubio has spent over two decades researching Montgomery’s life, and has put together a comprehensive and penetrating picture of this Canadian literary icon, all set in rich social context. Extensive interviews with people who knew Montgomery – her son, maids, friends, relatives, all now deceased – are only part of the material gathered in a journey to understand Montgomery that took Rubio to Poland and the highlands of Scotland.

From Montgomery’s apparently idyllic childhood in Prince Edward Island to her passion-filled adolescence and young adulthood, to her legal fights as world-famous author, to her shattering experiences with motherhood and as wife to a deeply troubled man, this fascinating, intimate narrative of her life will engage and delight.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #391869 in Books
• Published on: 2008-10-03
• Released on: 2008-10-03
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 752 pages

Review
"Rubio deftly paints the portrait of a multitasking modern woman with an amazing work ethic. The biography soars with the energy of its title, but delves even deeper into Montgomery's dark side."
— The Globe and Mail

"A poignant story about a real family…. The result of Rubio's research is pure Canadian Gothic: a story of sexual repression, class conflict and family secrets."
— The Gazette (Montreal)

"Absolutely gripping … nothing short of brilliant, an un-put-downable read, and a wonderful examination of this troubled woman's tragic life."
— Ottawa Citizen

"Magisterial."
— National Post

About the Author
Mary Henley Rubio is University Professor Emeritus at the University of Guelph. She co-edited The Selected Journals of L.M. Montgomery (five volumes, 1985-2004), co-authored Writing a Life: L.M. Montgomery, and edited Harvesting Thistles: The Textual Garden of L.M. Montgomery. Her most recent book is the Norton Critical Edition of Anne of Green Gables.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Introduction

In November 1907, Lucy Maud Montgomery wrote to a friend that biography is a “screaming farce.” She added that the best biographies give only two-dimensional portraits, but every person has a half dozen “different sides.” In 2008, one hundred years after the publication of Anne of Green Gables, we know much more about the many sides of “Maud,” as she liked to be called. And in fact many now feel that Maud’s greatest literary creation was her own tortured self­portrait, now published in her private journals more than fifty years after her death. But the truth may be even more complicated than that.

Maud’s life feels at times like a smoke-and-mirrors game. By 1920, when her name was famous all over the English-speaking world, Maud began preparing material for those who would later interpret her life. She compiled scrapbooks, account books, review-clipping books, and a multitude of other memorabilia. Although she was (in her son’s words) a “packrat” by nature, this material was also intended as a cache of information for those who would later become her biographers. She carefully recopied her journals, starting in 1919, making an edited, permanent copy. She saw her journals as her greatest gift to future biographers: they presented her life as she wanted it remembered.

When Elizabeth Waterston and I began editing the L. M. Montgomery journals in the 1980s, we took them at face value. Later we came to question elements in these fascinating life­documents. They did not hold the truth, we felt, so much as a truth. These journals, frank in so many ways, and so rich as social history, began to seem to us a cache of concealments, displacements, contradictions, and omissions. Initially, they seemed such a boon, but eventually they became another layer to excavate through. This biography will track some of my own processes, as well as my conclusions. In the nearly three decades that she has been the object of my part­time research I have never grown bored with Maud. She is truly a biographer’s dream subject: you never feel that you have found the master key that fully unlocks all the rooms in her house.


In 1908, Lucy Maud Montgomery burst onto the literary scene with her first novel, Anne of Green Gables. At age thirty­three, she had already published scores of short stories and poems, but this best­selling novel achieved instant acclaim, with seven impressions printed in its first year alone. It churned up so much attention that her home province, Prince Edward Island, soon had a flood of visitors, all wanting to see the landscapes she painted so vividly. Her publisher demanded sequels, and she obliged, eventually making her beloved Island a site for tourists from all over the world. Her books appeared to be “simple little tales” (to echo her own modest phrasing in a journal entry dated October 15, 1908), but that was misleading: the last quarter century of scholarly research has shown that her writing has been, in fact, a very powerful agent of social change.

Anne of Green Gables was not written as a novel for children. It was aimed at a general audience of adults and children, men and women, sophisticates and simple readers, as were many of her other books. It appealed to famous statesmen as much as to ordinary people. In 1908, the celebrated author Mark Twain wrote Maud to praise “Anne” as “the dearest and most moving and delightful child since the immortal Alice.” In 1910, Earl Grey, one of Canada’s most beloved Governors General and an esteemed writer himself, travelled to Prince Edward Island just to meet her. In 1923, she was the first Canadian woman to be elected as a member of the British Royal Society of Arts.

By 1925, translations into other languages were expanding her readership in Sweden, Holland, Poland, Denmark, Norway, Finland, Australia, and France. Two prime ministers of Great Britain expressed admiration for her books: Stanley Baldwin made a point of meeting her during his 1927 tour of Canada; his successor, Ramsay MacDonald, is reported to have said that he read all of her books that he could find – not just once, but several times.

At home in Ontario, where she moved in 1911 following her marriage to Presbyterian minister Ewan Macdonald, Maud was in constant demand as a storyteller and speaker. She was also active in organizations associated with the Canadian cultural scene, particularly the Canadian Authors Association. In 1928, a rapturous audience of two thousand gave her a standing ovation at the annual Canadian Book Week in Toronto, Ontario. In 1935, she was elected to the Literary and Artistic Institute of France for her contributions to literature. In the same year, she was made an Officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) in Canada. In 1937, the Montreal Family Herald and Star reported from a survey that she and Charles Dickens were the “most read” authors in Canada. Also in 1937, the Prince Edward Island National Park was established to preserve the landscapes her books had made so famous. Her status as an international celebrity seemed secure.

By the time of her death in 1942, she had published over twenty books, and more than five hundred short stories and five hundred poems, all while raising a family, living a busy life as the wife of a country minister, and completing ten volumes of secret journals. Her books were read all over the English-speaking world, and were translated into many more languages. No other Canadian writer had reached such a pinnacle of success on so many fronts: she was truly an international celebrity.

But a reversal of her literary reputation had been slowly occurring. For the first decade after Anne of Green Gables was published, critics praised Maud’s books. However, as Modernism set in, with its grim focus on the breakdown of social norms, critics dimmed their view of her cheerful books, with their witty treatment of human behaviour and their celebration of the imagination and nature. Instead, the professional critics started faulting her novels for their splashes of purple prose and their “sentimentalism,” ignoring the darker soundings that haunted her stories before the reader got to the “happy endings.”

In the mid-1920s, the growing cadre of men who panned her books included influential newsmen, university professors, and writers in Canada, and they all knew each other. In 1926, one of Canada’s powerful newspaper critics led the attack, labelling her books the nadir of Canadian fiction. A much respected professor of literature termed her books “naïve” with an “innocence” that suggested “ignorance of life.” A grudging evaluation was made by another male novelist, who wrote: “ . . . not that those books may not have their readers who profit from them: I have found that out. But how a woman who judges so accurately can stand writing that stuff . . .” In the face of such attacks, even the critics who had previously lauded her writing started being careful to temper their praise.

Nevertheless, all these men were impressed (and annoyed) by her sales success. While some allowed that her large readership might speak to some undefined cultural need, others felt that her popularity merely proved her “lowbrow” quality. These detractors spoke with such a powerful voice in Canada between the mid-1920s and her death in 1942 that her work fell into disfavour. Librarians heeded what the influential critics said, and some libraries even shunned her books. In 1967, the don of Canadian librarians, Sheila Egoff, wrote a groundbreaking study of Canadian children’s literature that gave definition to the field. She repeated the view of the earlier critics, and attacked Maud for “sentimental dishonesty.” By the 1970s the general wisdom was that Montgomery was a sentimental writer who appealed to the uncultured and masses of undiscriminating women and children, and still in the 1980s, expressing an admiration for Maud’s books was rather risky. She was relegated strictly to the category of “children’s writer,” and was judged by her weakest books, not by her best.


My thinking for this biography began in summer 1974. At that time, I was a young academic attending an international children’s literature conference in Toronto, which brought together librarians, academics, and writers from North America and the United Kingdom. I was surprised to hear several Canadians there refer to Maud’s writing in terms that depicted it as a national embarrassment. That, I learned, was the legacy of the critics of the previous fifty years: their view was entrenched.

This puzzled me. I had come from the United States and a background in American literature. I taught Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn at the University of Guelph. In my view, Anne of Green Gables held up very well in comparison. The main difference was that Huck, a boy, could challenge conventions, but Anne, a girl, had to conform to them. Otherwise, there were many interesting similarities between the two books. Each author had a wonderfully comic way with satire, and each book – though telling a simple, episodic story – had a great deal of depth.

I soon discovered that one of my senior colleagues, Elizabeth Waterston, believed that Maud was undervalued, too. In 1967 – Canada’s centennial year and the year Sheila Egoff’s book was published – Elizabeth had written the first substantial scholarly article taking Maud’s books seriously. Soon after, she had been quietly advised by a distinguished university colleague not to waste any more time writing about Maud if she wished to advance up the academic ladder. He meant the advice in a kindly way, fearing that her critical tal...

Customer Reviews

A wonderful read
I am a huge fan of Lucy Maud Montgomery and of her novels. I think I can safely say that I have read every biography or LMM related book available on the market (and then some). Mary Rubio is one of the most well-known LMM scholar and I actually had the opportunity of meeting her in PEI quite a few years ago.

LMM has always been an enigma and through the various biographies written about her (including her very own journals), you always get the feeling that you are still missing huge pieces of her life - that she is still, somehow, managing to remain a mystery.

All of this changed for me when I starting reading The Gift of Wings by Mary Rubio.

This is, withouth a doubt, the most comprehensive book every written on Maud and FINALLY answer so many of the "mystery" questions that have surrounded Maud's life and death for the last 60 years.

The Gift of Wings gives a wonderful glimpse of Maud's life as a youngster and how much she loved PEI. As I was reading, I could actually feel myself in PEI - in the 1800's. The book continues with the story of Ewan (Ewen) and Maud's meeting and subsequent wedding as well as their many moves and the birth of their children (including a third child that did not survive).

Throughout this book, you will find some little gems that had never previously been revealed. This is due in large part by the fact that Maud's son Stuart - met with Rubio on many occasions, before his death to talk about his mother and to give Rubio full access to all of Maud's journals and various writings etc. It is amazing to me to think what would have happened had all of these precious papers been left to Chester, Maud's other son.

There are some great black and whites shots of Maud, her friends and family.

What I also loved about this book is the fact that Rubio really dug deep into the family aspect. She honestly describes Chester (wow!) and Stuart as well as the problem Maud had with Ewan and medication.

FINALLY, this book also announces and clarifies that the "mystery" cause of LMM's death was potentially suicide - although there is some speculation that Maud may simply have accidentally overdosed on the drugs she has become addicted to (prescription).

NOWHERE in any other biography has this ever been mentioned in such a forthright manner. I always felt odd that this somehow was the worst kept secret and yet, never admitted to.

There is also a very interesting look at Maud's problem child - Chester.

Having said all of this, I always thought that although Maud would be the person I would most love to meet (which dead person would you love to talk with) I also always felt that while I would highly respect her as a writer, I probably would not like her as a person. She sounded incredibly vain and not particularly open to honestly discussing feelings, etc.

Although I understand that the time period was different, Maud got very despondent over war, Chester, money, etc. These are still issues that we face today and somehow I feel as though she tended to amplify in her own mind how horrible her life was. It seems to me, she was not living anything that other people were not living - and she had more money than most.

Still, this book is addictive and I could not put it down - which is a miracle since the book has over 600 pages.

This is "the" LMM biography. I suggest you buy it and savour it.

An excellent biography
Mary Rubio's biography of Lucy Maud Montgomery is both an interesting read in and of itself, and a fascinating companion piece for readers of the journals. Whereas it is clear that Rubio has substantial affection for her subject, she does present some of the less- than-glorious aspects of the author unflinchingly. Mary Rubio clearly admires her subject, but does not do so blindly. She is forgiving of Montgomery's human failings, and doesn't address some aspects of the journals in that forgiveness.

One of the most interesting passages of the book considers the strange tale of Herman Leard, although perhaps not in as an in-depth as it might have been. Rubio does make an excellent attempt to state both the facts about Leard (his engagement to another woman at the same time) and the conflicts within Montgomery's account. At no point does she speculate as to the reasons Montgomery may have had in preserving the tale when certain elements of it were clearly tweaked for dramatic impact by Montgomery. Still, while never condemning Montgomery, Rubio seeks to be fair to all sides. A rare thing in a biography written by an individual who spent decades of her life compiling the research.

Rubio's book is exceptionally well balanced particularly considering her great fondness for the subject. She takes the time and effort to consider Ewan MacDonald (Montgomery's husband) as a full person also, and in doing so helps solve the mystery of what actually ailed the man. Since MacDonald seems to only exist in the journals as the millstone around Montgomery's neck, this information finally gives the man some dignity of his own.

The subject of Montgomery's very difficult son, Chester, is addressed honestly and with no attempt to conceal his faults. This is in sharp contrast to Montgomery's own description of him within the journals, where her devastation over his conduct was often mystifying because she did seek to spare her family by concealing details.

One of the best things about this biography is Mary Rubio's detailed descriptions of what was going on in Montgomery's life while she was writing each of her books. She examines the possible motivations behind some of the subject matter, and shines a new light on several of LMM's books in doing so.

An excellent, very fast-paced read and I believe it would be of interest to individuals not particularly familiar with Lucy Maud Montgomery. Mary Rubio resists sensationalizing any of the information she presents and presents a kind, but not sugar-coated look into the life of a woman who has often been termed an enigma.

The Anne of Green Gables Author
This will probably be the definitive biography of L.M.Montgomery, author of Anne of Green Gables and many other books. It is extraordinarily well researched, a good read, compassionate, and fair-minded. To the readers of her books Montgomery seemed a happy and relatively carefree person, and to her friends and the congregations of her husband, a Presbyterian minister, they seemed a happy and well-balanced couple. It was when her Selected Journals were published in five volumes that it became evident that she suffered from depression through most of her life, and her husband was afflicted with severe mental illness. The sombre picture of the Journals shocked those who had known her, and they were not, in fact, the whole story. She used her Journals for therapeutic purposes, and this caused them to be an outlet for what she could never admit in public. As for her husband's illness, and her own increasing illness in her last years, that was mainly caused by the overuse of bromides and barbiturates, sometimes prescribed by doctors and sometimes not,which in those years were not understood to poison the body and unhinge the mind. This makes the story less than pleasant, as does the appalling behavior of her eldest son. But the book is sympathetic to Montgomery and to her husband, and is not all sadness.