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ambition, Anne of Green Gables, books, Fiction, heritage roads, L.M. Montgomery, literature, Point Pleasant Park, Prince Edward Island
I’ve always loved the image of the “bend in the road” that appears in the final chapter of L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables. Anne’s plans for the future change, and while she can’t quite see what’s ahead of her on that road, she’s ready to move forward with confidence to embrace the unknown. I thought about this passage last summer when I found Montgomery had pasted into her Red Scrapbook a Notman Studio photograph of a bend in the road at Point Pleasant Park.
My photograph of the bend in the road at Point Pleasant Park featured on the Notman Studio postcard.
And I thought about it in June of this year when I visited Prince Edward Island and took some photographs of Warburton Road, a heritage road in Fredericton.
Warburton Road
Imagine my delight when I looked up the passage from that last chapter of Anne of Green Gables once again and discovered that in addition to talking about making peace with the mysteries of the future, Anne talks about her ambitions. She tells Marilla she’s decided to stay at home with her so they won’t have to give up Green Gables:
“Nothing could be worse than giving up Green Gables – nothing could hurt me more. We must keep the dear old place. My mind is quite made up, Marilla. I’m NOT going to Redmond; and I AM going to stay here and teach. Don’t you worry about me a bit.”
“But your ambitions – and – ”
“I’m just as ambitious as ever. Only, I’ve changed the object of my ambitions. I’m going to be a good teacher – and I’m going to save your eyesight. Besides, I mean to study at home here and take a little college course all by myself. Oh, I’ve dozens of plans, Marilla. I’ve been thinking them out for a week. I shall give life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queen’s my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don’t know what lies around the bend, but I’m going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla. I wonder how the road beyond it goes – what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows – what new landscapes – what new beauties – what curves and hills and valleys further on.”
– From Chapter 38, “The Bend in the Road”
If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you’ll know that I’ve been getting more and more interested in the topic of ambition in relation to Jane Austen’s life and works. I had forgotten that Marilla and Anne use that term when Anne talks about the bend in the road. So now, of course, I’m inspired to explore what Montgomery says about ambition elsewhere in her novels, alongside my research on “Austen and Ambition.” I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on either of these writers – or my other favourite author, Edith Wharton – and the things they say about ambition in their fiction and letters. I’m curious to find out more about this topic and I’ll keep you posted as my “dozens of plans” take shape.
Sarah Emsley 
I thought it was interesting when Rilla (in Rilla of Ingleside) says something about how her mother has always loved bends in the road, but that she prefers to have them stretch out straight in front of her. This makes sense in Rilla’s book, because of the war – they hated not knowing what was going to happen next.
There is also some talk about how Rilla is not ambitious like Anne and her other children. But I think we all just have our own ambitions, even if some of them are quieter than others. And, like Anne says to Marilla, they are often changing.
As always, I love your pictures!
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Well, now I absolutely have to read Rilla right away. Thank you! Last week when I was travelling in Alberta I kept thinking about the contrast between the roads there and the ones we have in the Maritimes. So many straight roads that seem to go on forever, without the twists and turns that are so common here. I understand Rilla’s preference, particularly in that context. And I really want to read more about her ambitions (or what others perceive as her absence of ambition). I’m having such a good time taking pictures of Montgomery-related places in NS and PEI. Glad you like them!
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Love your photos! I’m interested, too, in your thoughts about ambition and these writers’ thoughts on their characters’ ambitions. I’m wondering if there isn’t a good bit in the Emily stories, particularly as she more overtly pursued publication of her stories, more so than Anne did. Or, are you exclusively interested in Anne?
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Yes to more Emily! Thank you for the suggestion. Do any specific passages come to mind? It’s been a while since I last read the Emily books. I’m not sure yet what my project on ambition will look like, but I’m excited about exploring the possiblities. I’m so glad you enjoyed the photos!
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Kat, at Mirabile Dictu posted a link to this article as part of my post about Rilla, which gives you a hint of Emily’s ambition, complete with some quotes at the beginning: how fortuitous! http://www.nytimes.com/1992/05/17/books/stories-for-girls-about-girls-who-write-stories.html
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Wonderful! What a great survey of heroines with literary ambitions. Thank you very much for the link. Excellent quotations at the start — wanting to be “famous and rich” is “not enough — not enough.” Emily has a very specific goal for her writing, but the fundamental reason she writes is because she has to.
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Great post! I also love the photos. I’ve been pondering ambition in my own life (as a writer/artist) and often refer to the Bible verse: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves…” Phil 2:3-4. I think, at the core, ambition can be a good thing if it “contributes” in some way to the world or another person. When I think of certain literary characters, one being Lily Bart from The House of Mirth, I can clearly see how her ambition (although I love her) will be used for a pointless goal. It’s a vain ambition. Elizabeth Bennet’s ambition, however, will affect the hearts of the elite once she becomes Mrs. Darcy. I think she’s driven more by love of course than ambition. I guess what I’m saying is that there are two kinds of ambition. One is driven by vanity, the other by a larger force.
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Thanks, Mary, and thank you for mentioning that passage from Philippians. I talked a bit about those verses in the paper I gave in Philadelphia a couple of months ago, and I agree with you — sometimes ambition can be a very good thing. It depends on the type of ambition. If one is ambitious about finding — and giving — love, then that’s quite different from vain or selfish ambition. I’d love to hear more about your thoughts on writing and art in relation to ambition. I’ve been collecting articles and books that deal with this topic — and you know how much I love the research stage in any project! At some point I’ll have to decide what the writing project itself will look like, but right now I’m still in those early days of collecting material and exploring possibilities.
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It’s an intriguing topic. I struggled with writing/art and motherhood when my son was younger and it took awhile to find the right balance. I eventually learned that a writer/artist needs experiences in order to produce good art. Just as, in my opinion, a great writer must first be an avid reader. It’s that filling-up process first that’s crucial. I also think a real artist has an innate compulsion to release — or express — what he/she has created.
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That’s a lovely way of putting it, Mary. It always strikes me as curious when someone who wants to write claims not to enjoy reading very much. I suppose each artist has to find the right combination of personal experience, the education that comes from exploring the work of other artists and creators, and time to create his or her own work.
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It’s always struck me that Anne is ahead of her time in terms of her ambition. I mean, she was still ambitious within the confines of her time BUT she dared to dream bigger. This last time that I read Anne of Green Gables, I thought about her willingness to change her ambition to be able to look after Marilla and Green Gables. It was a really selfless thing to do but she did it in a way that didn’t sacrifice herself completely. It was a good lesson for me personally this time. The idea of the bend in the road is comforting – things can change, good or bad, but there’s still more to come.
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Yes, I think Anne’s ambitions are interesting because she’s trying to reconcile domestic responsibilities and intellectual passions, which was an important question in that time and in our own as well. Perhaps part of the appeal of her story, at least in this first novel, is that she manages to find a solution that allows her to be attentive to the people and places she loves, while still pursuing her academic interests and ambitions. And perhaps part of my objection to some of the later books is that the balance shifts — in Anne of Windy Poplars, it’s mostly professional success, and Gilbert is almost totally absent, and in Anne’s House of Dreams, it’s mostly domestic happiness, and she’s quite dismissive about her writing. (I’m way behind on the Readalong, but I have read Anne’s House of Dreams and I’m writing about that one now.) I’m starting to get interested in the range of different metaphors for ambition and success, and I keep coming back to Montgomery’s bend in the road as contrasted with the image of “The Alpine Path,” which she used for the story of how she became a writer. Do you find the image of the bend in the road unsettling as well as comforting? What did you think of Rilla’s resistance to the uncertainty that comes with the mysterious bend?
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Pardon my ignorance: Bend in the road = Fork in the road with unexpectedness perhaps or what? I am simply minded at times noting cruelty where there is cunning-ness and place-setting of things.
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The fork in the road is another good metaphor, though it’s quite different from the bend in the road, which has to do with the mysteries that lie just beyond on a single road. The fork in the road implies that there are two possible choices, two different roads ahead. I suppose that at the end of Anne of Green Gables, Anne has already passed the fork in the road and has made her choice to stay at home with Marilla. She doesn’t know yet what lies around the corner — is there another fork, at which she’ll have to choose, or are there challenges on that particular road?
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Thanks for replying with explanation. I blog and at times I take things to personally and feel hurtful things from others. This Paul person who post Goal quotes; puts one as such: Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.” —Andre Malraux
And off course I am thinking what is this person about or why post this now; but simply he post as he feels and that is all. Just as I post as I feel what I am interested at. No matter, take care. Happy blog to you.
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Hi Sarah Emsley, Happy New Year to you and your family in BC; I was reading about Anne of Green Gables and a TV show to be done of her and thought to let you know in case it is of interest to your writing public: http://www.countryliving.com/life/entertainment/a37321/anne-of-green-gables-returns-to-tv/?mag=clg&list=nl_ccr_news&src=nl&date=011616
Anyhow, I don’t follow your blog since I tend to think you were making fun of me somehow. I take everything always wrong, I am sorry to say. Take care–Ainee
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This is a great discussion!
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I think so, too, and I’m grateful to all of you for joining in!
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Charming post and lovely photos. It’s wonderful to see the way in which LMM sheds light on ambition – you’ve just hit gold!
Anne Shirley is an ambitious girl: she works hard, gets her teacher’s licence, wins a scholarship and is about to go to college. But back at Avonlea, she learns Matthew and Marilla have lost their savings; as a consequence, his health deteriorates, and eventually he dies. As his sister’s failing eyesight prevents her from running the farm, she considers selling GG. Anne has been thinking and comes up with a new plan: she’ll teach, help Marilla, and study at home. She’s just as ambitious as before, only her goals have changed. She’s neither sorry nor sad: “We’ll be real cozy and happy here together, you and I.”
As Mrs Grant puts it: “If one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere.” (MP, chapter 5) She’s discussing marriage, so the Bennets come to mind: their expectations of a happy union have faded away – he no longer loves or respects his wife – and there is no son. How do they cope? He shuts himself up in the library and reads; we’re also told he’s fond of the countryside and of amusing himself at Mrs Bennet’s expense. She, by contrast, has a new project: to get her daughters married. We suspect she would have engaged in match-making anyway, but now there’s an added urgency, as she’s perfectly aware that they might be thrown out of their home on her husband’s death. I’d say she’s ambitious, while he’s not. JA speaks of “the business of her life,” as opposed to “its solace.” In his case there’s only talk of “seeking comfort.” Her efforts, however misguided, are crowned with success: “Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be guessed.” No reference is made to Mr Bennet’s happiness. In LMM’s words: “We pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and although ambitions are well worth having, they are not to be cheaply won, but exact their dues of work and self-denial, anxiety and discouragement.” A sacrifice Mr Bennet doesn’t seem willing to make.
“Oh, it’s delightful to have ambitions,” says Anne “ I’m so glad I have such a lot. And there never seems to be any end to them—that’s the best of it. Just as soon as you attain to one ambition you see another one glittering higher up still. It does make life so interesting.” But both LMM and JA show that life is not straightforward: there are twists and turns and bends in the road. Ambitious people set themselves new goals and find happiness in “the joy of the strife.”
That’s easier said than done, however, as sometimes illness and depression get in the way. After Willoughby’s betrayal, Marianne Dashwood, overwhelmed by grief and unable to exert herself, is on the brink of “self-destruction.” She somehow fights back, pulls herself together, and devises a scheme of “rational employment and virtuous self-control,” focusing on family life, study, pianoforte practice, and physical exercise. “I know we shall be happy,” she tells Elinor.
Finally, since both Anne Shirley and the Bennet women face the prospect of losing their home, I’m tempted to draw a parallel with JA’s life, but I’m afraid this comment is already far too long.
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Thank you, Monica. I’m glad you enjoyed it! I like your metaphor very much — I do feel that I’ve hit gold on this particular literary road. Thanks for making the connections with Mrs. Grant, the Bennets, and Marianne Dashwood. There’s lots to think about here and I’m excited about bringing Montgomery, Austen, and Wharton together in this project. Marianne’s plans for the pursuit of happiness through a disciplined program are especially interesting, and I’d like to look at that passage in relation to what Edward says earlier in the novel about his ambitions for perfect happiness.
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I distinctly remember this conversation and it made me cry a bit. I was so proud of Anne for being flexible enough to adjust her plans accordingly! It made me love her even more!
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I agree with you, Lynn — Anne’s ability to be flexible is indeed appealing. Even though she has some very specific academic goals in mind, she isn’t selfish.
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The topic of ambition, especially for women, is very interesting and can be difficult, I think. Willa Cather’s novel The Song of the Lark addresses it without mentioning it. In that case it becomes the ambition to become one’s best self and follow one’s destiny. In a conversation with a friend who has just said. “well, you can make money, if you care about that more than anything else.” Thea responds with “I only want impossible things. The others don’t interest me.” Ambition, right?
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Perhaps the White Queen is right when she advises Alice to practice believing “six impossible things before breakfast.” I haven’t read The Song of the Lark and I’m so glad you mentioned it, Leslie. Thanks! I’ll add it to my reading list.
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What an interesting post, and what interesting conversations have sprung from it.The image of the bend in the road representing how our plans have to bend to accommodate life is a very powerful one.
I think there is a Jewish proverb ‘Man makes plans and God laughs’ (sorry if I’ve misquoted or wrongly attributed this), but it strikes me that this has always been even more true of the plans of women. Our career ambitions are interrupted by pregnancy and childbirth (welcome interruptions though they may be) and even short term plans are disrupted by the needs of our families be these poorly children or aging parents.
Anne’s positive attitude to this is inspiring, one of the reasons I have returned to the Anne books several times over my life.
Thank you for making me think of them again.
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Thanks very much for visiting and commenting, Jenny, and for mentioning the proverb. Anne encounters a number of challenges on that road and I’d like to go through the novels in the series more systematically to look at the way she responds to them, and the way she talks about her ambitions. (Perhaps someone in the world of Montgomery scholarship has already done this — in which case, I’d love to hear about it.) It’s a good point that women encounter different interruptions on their career paths.
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Sarah, your comments always inspire me – this time to re-read all of the Anne books and maybe the Emily ones as well. The bend in the road concept really hit home. It is so much what life is all about – we think we go one way and then the unexpected happens (Matthew’s death and Marilla’s eyesight) and things change. Thinking about Austen’s characters: Lydia’s running away, changes the ball game; the Allen’s deciding to go to Bath, changes Catherine’s life, etc. What a thought provoking blog. See you in Louisville, I hope.
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Thank you, Nili. It’s wonderful to hear that you’re enjoying these posts. Yes — Lydia’s elopement changes everything, and Elizabeth has to come to terms with the bend in the road. I’m thinking that the failure to produce a son is the bend in the road for Mr. Bennet. His plan for the road ahead was that “the son would join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow and younger children would by that means be provided for.” Unlike Anne, who adapts when circumstances change, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet prove unable to adapt — “it was then too late to be saving.” I’m going to keep thinking about how Austen’s characters, as well as Montgomery’s, learn to deal with the unexpected (and what happens when they decide not to deal with it at all).
I’m not going to the AGM this year, but I’m thinking about going next year. Maybe you and I could meet up in Washington to talk about Anne and Emily, in the middle of all the conversations about Emma….
Have a fabulous time in Louisville!
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So sorry you won’t be there. Yes, would love to meet up in DC. I will be thinking about these as well. Right now I am re-reading PP with the idea of what the letters tell us about the writer. There are many letters. Not my idea originally – from Story Wonk podcasts.
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I like that idea as a way of approaching P&P. One of my favourite scenes is the discussion of the first letter from Mr. Collins, because the responses tell us so much about the Bennets, as well as about their cousin — Jane is determined to like the letter, Kitty and Lydia are not interested in it at all, Mary focuses on style, and Elizabeth makes a serious effort to understand both the letter and its author.
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