When she questions Anne about her past, Marilla observes that Anne is reluctant to talk about it: “evidently she did not like talking about her experiences in a world that had not wanted her.” In fact, rather than dwelling on her unhappy childhood, Anne takes refuge in her imagination, finding comfort in nature’s beauty and thereby being inspired to imagine better circumstances for herself. Sometimes her imagination wanders too freely and gets Anne into a variety of misadventures. But as Anne becomes more secure in her life at Green Gables, she learns to channel her imagination instead of stifling it, sharing her talent with others and discovering new ambitions. Through the maturing of Anne’s imagination, Montgomery suggests that imagination is important for a person’s growth and shouldn’t be discouraged; instead, it ought to be used to benefit others and expand one’s horizons.
Because Anne’s early life has been bleak and lonely, Anne relies on the beauty of the natural world and her imagination in order to find hope. When Anne first takes in the beauty of Green Gables and its wooded surroundings, she’s overwhelmed: “Anne’s beauty-loving eyes lingered on it all, taking everything greedily in. She had looked on so many unlovely places in her life […] but this was as lovely as anything she had ever dreamed.” Because Anne has mostly seen “unlovely,” poverty-stricken places, she has a hunger for beauty which Green Gables finally satisfies. Beautiful things, especially nature, provide firsthand what her imagination can only pretend.
When Matthew fetches Anne from the train station, she immediately gives him an example of imagination’s role in her life: “What did that tree, leaning out from the bank, all white and lacy, make you think of? […] Why, a bride, of course […] I’ve never had a pretty dress in my life that I can remember—of course it’s all the more to look forward to, isn’t it? And then I can imagine that I’m dressed gorgeously. This morning when I left the asylum I felt so ashamed because I had to wear this horrid old wincey dress.” Anne’s imagination helps make up for experiences she’s lacked and allows her to look forward to better experiences in the future—she’s able to imagine that she isn’t wearing tattered orphanage clothes and someday might have nicer clothes of her own. Anne’s imagination helps her avoid self-pity and choose to be hopeful instead.
Sometimes, however, Anne’s imagination carries her too far and gets her into trouble. Through the vivid details she imagines, Anne convinces herself that the nearby woods are haunted, to the point that she refuses to walk through them at night. This incident confirms Marilla’s opinion that Anne’s overactive imagination needs to be tamped down: “I’ve had my doubts about that imagination of yours right along, and if this is going to be the outcome of it, I won’t countenance any such doings. You’ll go right […] through that spruce grove, just for a lesson and a warning to you.” While imagination has its comforting and hopeful functions, it can also backfire, suggesting that Anne’s imagination needs to be more carefully channeled.
As Anne settles into her life at Green Gables and no longer needs to rely on imagination for her happiness, her imagination matures and finds better outlets. She increasingly uses her imagination to help and encourage others instead of just comforting herself. Fiction comes naturally to Anne, so when she and her classmates are assigned to write stories at school, she helps her friends develop their storytelling abilities by forming a story club. Imagination is easy “if you’d only cultivate it,” she tells her friend Diana. “Let’s you and I have a story club all our own and write stories for practice. I’ll help you along until you can do them by yourself.” Instead of constantly losing herself in daydreams—whether good or bad—Anne begins to apply her imagination in more outward, helpful ways.
Anne’s imagination also expands her horizons by helping her discover new ambitions. Because of Anne’s imaginative abilities and way with words, she becomes celebrated in Avonlea school for her written compositions and recitations of dramatic poetry. Miss Stacy accordingly helps Anne prepare for the Queen’s Academy Entrance exam—teacher’s college being an opportunity Anne had never imagined for herself. The more Anne considers opportunities beyond Avonlea school, the harder she works and the more she achieves. Ultimately, she even wins an English scholarship to Redmond College, a rare achievement for a girl in Anne’s day. Though Anne’s imagination starts out as a way of coping with life’s difficulties, it becomes an outlet for encouraging others and finally opens a path for new ambitions and dreams. Montgomery suggests that imagination, if carefully channeled, can be a fruitful resource throughout a person’s life, not just a fanciful refuge in childhood.
Beauty and Imagination ThemeTracker
Beauty and Imagination Quotes in Anne of Green Gables
[…] [A] discerning extraordinary observer might have concluded that no commonplace soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-child of whom shy Matthew Cuthbert was so ludicrously afraid.
[…]
“I suppose you are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables?” she said in a peculiarly clear, sweet voice. “I’m very glad to see you. I was beginning to be afraid you weren’t coming for me and I was imagining all the things that might have happened to prevent you. I had made up my mind that if you didn’t come for me tonight I’d go down the track to that big wild cherry tree at the bend, and climb up into it to stay all night.”
Anne dropped on her knees and gazed out into the June morning, her eyes glistening with delight. Oh, wasn’t it beautiful? Wasn’t it a lovely place? Suppose she wasn't really going to stay here! She would imagine she was. There was scope for imagination here. […]
Anne’s beauty-loving eyes lingered on it all, taking everything greedily in. She had looked on so many unlovely places in her life, poor child, but this was as lovely as anything she had ever dreamed.
Marilla felt this and was vaguely troubled over it, realizing that the ups and downs of existence would probably bear hardly on this impulsive soul and not sufficiently understanding that the equally great capacity for delight might more than compensate. Therefore Marilla conceived it to be her duty to drill Anne into a tranquil uniformity of disposition as impossible and alien to her as to a dancing sunbeam in one of the brook shallows. […] Marilla had almost begun to despair of ever fashioning this waif of the world into her model little girl of demure manners and prim deportment. Neither would she have believed that she really liked Anne much better as she was.
“Please cut it off at once, Marilla, and have it over. Oh, I feel that my heart is broken. This is such an unromantic affliction. The girls in books lose their hair in fevers or sell it to get money for some good deed, and I’m sure I wouldn’t mind losing my hair in some such fashion half so much. But there is nothing comforting in having your hair cut off because you’ve dyed it a dreadful color, is there? I’m going to weep all the time you’re cutting it off if it won’t interfere. It seems such a tragic thing.”
“I’ve learned a new and valuable lesson today. Ever since I came to Green Gables I’ve been making mistakes, and each mistake has helped to cure me of some great shortcoming […] And today’s mistake is going to cure me of being too romantic. I have come to the conclusion that it is no use trying to be romantic in Avonlea. It was probably easy enough in towered Camelot hundreds of years ago, but romance is not appreciated now.”
[…]
“Don’t give up all your romance, Anne,” [Matthew] whispered shyly, “a little of it is a good thing—not too much, of course—but keep a little of it, Anne, keep a little of it.”
“You don’t chatter half as much as you used to, Anne, nor use half as many big words. What has come over you?”
[…]
“I don't know—I don’t want to talk as much,” she said, denting her chin thoughtfully with her forefinger. “It’s nicer to think dear, pretty thoughts and keep them in one’s heart, like treasures. I don’t like to have them laughed at or wondered over. And somehow I don’t want to use big words any more. It’s almost a pity, isn’t it, now that I’m really growing big enough to say them if I did want to. It's fun to be almost grown up in some ways, but it’s not the kind of fun I expected, Marilla.”
Anne’s horizons had closed in since the night she had sat there after coming home from Queen’s; but if the path set before her feet was to be narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it. The joy of sincere work and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship were to be hers. Nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road!
“God’s in His heaven, all’s right with the world,” whispered Anne softly.