Oh, Anne Shirley, and her wonderful, uplifting, sweet, wholesome stories. The series begins with a little orphan girl who finds a home and a family, saving Matthew and Marilla just as much as they save her. Anne walks as if about to fly, wandering through life with her head the clouds but her heart in the right place, and even through all her scrapes, from the embarrassing to the wrong to the hilarious, she keeps her eye true to herself and retains her sense of wonder and imagination even as an adult.

So, how do we reconcile this with how the series ends?

You mean Rilla of Ingleside, batrachised? you ask, thinking of our more heartbroken and downtrodden Anne. But no. I'm referring here to The Blythes are Quoted. This is the book that actually contains the last glimpse we see of our beloved Anne Shirley. And, to be frank, it's dark. I read it the other day (although my friend gogandmagog warned me, she WARNED me) and had to sit with it.

Before I share the passages, some context: LMM intended TBAQ to be published, although it wasn't published in her lifetime. The foreword to the book notes the difference between the Piper poem referred to Rilla, and Walter's hopeful letter about making Canada safe for the poets of the future--and then, what we see in this book.

Here is the last chapter we get in Anne Shirley's story [warning: heartbreaking]:

So there we have it-- a poem where Walter imagines killing a boy (although I personally think we could read this as Walter actually killing someone, because how would Jem know?) and then Anne steadily saying she is thankful Walter didn't live to see what the world would become. At the end of TBAQ and the Anne series, WWII is raging. Rilla reflects on how, once again she's waiting for the horror to end, but this time with a son at the front. Even Jem, so bold in the first book (although he returns "no longer the laughing boy brother" who left), now has sons in WWII, now the one waiting at home for their safe return.

There's a lot to reflect on on this passage; how LMM clearly became disillusioned by WWII -shown in Anne's words, how the front impacted Walter's imagination and creative outputs, how this is the ending LMM chose for the characters (although perhaps she would have written more if she had lived longer, we can never know)--"The End" here is stark. "We forget because we must," the last words LMM wrote for Anne's story.

But, I think Jem is wrong (from a certain point of view). I had to mull over the contrast between what Jem says and what Walter writes (and also because, to be honest, my ability to interpret poetry is of equal capacity to a toenail's). Jem describes himself as made of tougher stuff than Walter, but what stands out to me here is that, from a certain perspective, Jem's thoughts are radically different than his brother's. Jem explicitly says they must forget; Walter explicitly says they must remember always. Even in the poem, assuming this isn't a publisher error, those words aren't italicized, emphasized amidst the rest.

Of course, Walter is discussing the pain of remembering; his message is that he'll never be able to forget, which parallels Jem's of having to forget. Both touch on the horror of WWI from different directions. To be clear, I think that was LMM's intent. But stepping beyond her intent, there's an underlying, unintended (?) message here of how forgetting risks repeating, something the characters are living through. Forgetting risks rendering the sacrifices made futile.

To my earlier question of how we reconcile this end: we don't, at least in my opinion (although I'd love to hear other's thoughts). I think the message here is all the more powerful because it's from our beloved Anne. It demonstrably condemns war, without any sugarcoating or even hope. A sharp contrast to the rest of the series, yes, but I think it's a fair one.

the 'what if you played it a little risky' post literally Changed my life but i cant fujkign find it in my blog because its. a tiktok screenshot

we'll do fine.

You Are Not Immune To fanart of characters who die in canon that has them alive and well, with scars from the wound that originally killed them

why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

'art idea that's above your skill set' and 'writing idea that's above your skill set' are tortures I wish upon absolutely no one man

This probably isn't entirely in character but it's based on an exchange I had & I thought it would be silly with these two

genuinely i think it's important for adults, especially in the plague times, to play pretend in our day-to-day lives. when i rub my back down with tiger balm so i can sleep without pain, i imagine i am a valiant knight tending to an old injury i received from a dragon. when i go to the store to pick up eggs and milk, i am a lone cowboy riding into town on a mission. when i turn my collar up against the wind i am a femme fatale who's killed 4 husbands and is scoping out a 5th. when i stomp around in the snow i am a doomed polar explorer. if being a little bit silly about my walk to the pharmacy helps me remember that life can be full of joy and whimsy, then so be it.

The Dungeon Meshi crew 'leap' into action!

a quick silly sketch based off my earlier post about the Cat King having a mistaken identity crisis when Edwin and Co. don't recognize him in his new cat form post-esther

i wouldn't have met you

🐙❤️

the day i picked up dazai or smth idk i've never read it

Trying to interact with the rest of your fandom as a whumper: