Autumn Sings the Blues

Emily of New Moon:

Where should she go? Down the brook—or over the fields to the spruce barrens? Emily chose the latter. She loved the spruce barrens, away at the further end of the long, sloping pasture. That was a place where magic was made. She came more fully into her fairy birthright there than in any other place. [...] The brown, frosted grasses under her feet were velvet piles. The old, mossy, gnarled half-dead spruce-tree, under which she paused for a moment to look up into the sky, was a marble column in a palace of the gods; the far dusky hills were the ramparts of a city of wonder. And for companions she had all the fairies of the countryside—for she could believe in them here—the fairies of the white clover and satin catkins, the little green folk of the grass, the elves of the young fir-trees, sprites of wind and wild fern and thistledown. Anything might happen there—everything might come true. And the barrens were such a splendid place in which to play hide and seek with the Wind Woman. She was so very real there; if you could just spring quickly enough around a little cluster of spruces—only you never could—you would see her as well as feel her and hear her.

The Blue Castle:

Behind the house was a long stretch of useless barrens, full of scrub pines and spruces

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 3.01: Detroit TVLTwT/IWTVTwT Version.

“Big cars went purring past in the violet dusk—the stream of summer tourists to Muskoka had already begun—but Valancy did not envy any of their occupants.”

How different she is from the envious Valancy of the first few chapters!

“Muskoka cottages might be charming, but beyond, in the sunset skies, among the spires of the firs, her Blue Castle towered.”

Blue Castle is less a particular place and more her journey of emancipation. Which is also relevant for the very end of the book.

“It had once been a snug place enough in the days when Abel Gay had been young and prosperous, and the punning, arched sign over the gate—“A. Gay, Carpenter,” had been fine and freshly painted.”

A happy carpenter! A homosexual carpenter!

“Valancy showed all her pointed teeth in a grin.”

What do we think Valancy’s “pointed teeth” means symbolically? Is it the changeling thing?

“I didn’t think you’d so much spunk,” said Roaring Abel admiringly. “And look at the nice ankles of her,” he added, as he stepped aside to let her in.

If Cousin Stickles had heard this she would have been certain that Valancy’s doom, earthly and unearthly, was sealed. But Abel’s superannuated gallantry did not worry Valancy.”

To be fair, Abel’s behavior is pretty close to “catcalling” but his age and the fact that he first complimented her spunk makes it a bit more tolerable.

“Besides, this was the first compliment she had ever received in her life and she found herself liking it.”

Being a stranger to it, Valancy quite enjoys the “gallantry”. I like that the book will go on to acknowledge the complicated nature of this type of thing in the Chidley Corners episode.

“Valancy had not seen Cecilia Gay for years. Then she had been such a pretty creature, a slight, blossom-like girl, with soft, golden hair, clear-cut, almost waxen features, and large, beautiful blue eyes. She was shocked at the change in her. Could this be sweet Cissy—this pitiful little thing that looked like a tired, broken flower? She had wept all the beauty out of her eyes; they looked too big—enormous—in her wasted face. The last time Valancy had seen Cecilia Gay those faded, piteous eyes had been limpid, shadowy blue pools aglow with mirth. The contrast was so terrible that Valancy’s own eyes filled with tears. She knelt down by Cissy and put her arms about her.”

A scene out of a Victorian melodrama.

“Oh!” Cissy put her thin arms about Valancy’s neck. “Oh—will you? It’s been so—lonely. I can wait on myself—but it’s been so lonely.”

Both women had been so lonely.

“It—would just be like—heaven—to have some one here—like you. You were always—so sweet to me—long ago.”

Little Valancy was kind even in her ostracized state.

“Old things had passed away; everything had become new.

“Most things are predestinated, but some are just darn sheer luck,” said Roaring Abel, complacently smoking his pipe in the corner.”

Luck is important but so is taking initiative.