Love Divine by Ysenda Maxtone Graham

I cannot express how excited I was when Slightly Foxed reached out to ask me if I would be interested in receiving a review copy of Ysenda Maxtone Graham’s book, Love Divine. I have to admit, I didn’t believe I was actually going to receive a copy until it arrived in my post box. “Jubilant” barely begins to describe the feeling. Expectations were high, and I am pleased to say that from the presentation of the book as an object to the supplementary material—hello, beautiful catalogue in which I have circled multiple books and then handed to my husband for future gift ideas—to the story itself, this book has exceeded expectations across the board. 

I have been wanting to get my hands on a Slightly Foxed book for a while now. Maxtone Graham’s book, Terms & Conditions: Life in Girls’ Boarding Schools 1939-1979, has been at the top of that list. I browse their website frequently, check the exchange from GBP to CAD to see how much of my annual book budget it would cost to get myself the subscription to their quarterly that comes with a book, and wonder if I dare suggest it as my next birthday or wedding anniversary gift. I have signed up to their email newsletter, I listen to their podcast, and I have told myself their books cannot possibly be as beautiful in person as they are in photos. Their books do photograph well, but then high quality products do tend to look just as great in photos as they do in real life. And can I just say, the book I received is the highest quality new hardcover that I have come across in years. I love the feel of the fabric covered boards in my hands, the grey endpapers beautifully complement the red cover, and the silk ribbon marker, also in grey, was a most pleasant surprise. Oh, and the pages instead of being stark white are… slightly foxed! Goodbye, eyestrain! 

But all of this is surface, and while high quality packaging is very welcome, it is just that, packaging. Even the most beautiful book in the world is worthless, in my mind, if the text itself does not hold up. I didn’t know what safe hands I was in with this author, but by the end of the first page, my mind was put to rest. 

I’m a big fan of how this book is set up. It is almost a hybrid between a novel and a play, which explains why it is marketed as a novella when it is 272 pages long. The dialogue is set up as it is in a play, with character attribution at the start of the line, followed by the dialogue. As someone who enjoys reading plays just as much as I enjoy watching them being performed (sometimes more so!), I absolutely loved this. We are also provided with a descriptive setting at the start of a scene. The book begins…

8.05 a.m. A blustery day dawns in Lamley Green, with plenty of rain in the forecast. In Holly Grove, a street of Georgian houses just off the green, curtains and shutters are being opened by sleepy residents in their dressing-gowns, some yawning, some frowning. In its basement kitchens, kettle switches are being flicked and capsules slotted into coffee machines. A dog barks. At No. 14, someone starts drilling loudly into a wall.

At No. 12, the curtains remain firmly closed. Throughout the morning, the following letters will be dropped through its letterbox. (11)

What follows are a number of letters of condolence to Lucy Fanthrope, whose husband Nick, respected lawyer and dependable member of the church choir, died unexpectedly on New Year’s Day. The letters are variable in nature, some touching, some funny, in many the writers come across as shockingly self-involved. What became quickly apparent to me is that Maxtone Graham has a wonderful sense of humour, and she has put it to good use in this book. I also realised that this was not going to be simply a sad book about a woman dealing with the death of her husband. 

We are privy to many perspectives across the wide range of characters who live in the village of Lamley Green nestled on the edge of London. Everyone is connected in this small community both to each other and through the parish church, St Luke’s, which is currently without a resident rector and suffering through a long interregnum. I thought I knew a bit about the Church of England as I predominantly read British writers, and books published in the UK. I mean, I knew the title, Love Divine, was a reference to the 1747 hymn by Charles Wesley, “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling”. I even know some of the words. But I had no idea that when a rector leaves his post a span of time must go by before the spot can be filled. Prepare yourself for many variable sermons to come over the year this book covers.

I would say the sermons were my favourite part, if it wasn’t for the fact that this is a book which is chock full of favourite parts. As someone who grew up in a family whose life revolved around the church, I found particular joy in all the little details of parish life. The satirical bent of this book had me giggling at times, and nodding my head at others. I don’t think it matters what denomination you are, you will recognise many of the characters in this book. That is by no means to say that these characters run the risk of becoming simply caricatures. No, these are fully fleshed people, in which even those we might think we know well provide us with a few surprises—Elena, I’m looking at you!—just like the people close to us will surprise us from time to time. I should add, I don’t think you need to have a religious background to appreciate this book. If you enjoy books centred around village life, then this one is for you.

I could quote Love Divine to you all day. There are so many funny moments, and a few that made me cry too. But I’m going to limit myself to one of each. First the one that made me laugh. 

And that sermon! On Easter Day, of all days, to start lecturing us about how to lower our carbon footprint! How dare he? I’m going keep all the lights on and light the woodburner this afternoon, just to spite him. (72)

This comes from Elizabeth, a woman whose constant class consciousness (read: snobbishness) I found to be repellent, but in this moment I have to say I could relate!

Now, for a sad passage.

6.35 a.m. Lucy wakes up, and remembers she mentioned to Carol that she would go to church today. She decides to keep her word and give it another go, although it’s the last thing she feels like.

With a sigh of misery, because Nick is still not back, and will never come back, even if she does ever get to the bottom of what on earth he was doing on the evening of 21st December, she gets up, puts on a dark navy dress and tramps off to St Luke’s. (110)

Something about the line, “With a sigh of misery, because Nick is still not back, and will never come back” struck me. I could feel the weight of Lucy’s loss like a pressure on my chest. Because sometimes, just for a moment, we forget why people aren’t there. And as if the death of her husband isn’t enough to deal with, not long after his death, Lucy is confronted with something that makes her suspect Nick was having an affair.

This book has a wide cast of characters. There’s Carol, who volunteers to do the church coffee service, lives alone, and works in a doctors’ surgery. Vicki and Eliot who are facing the uphill battle of making money by turning their home into a B&B. Chantelle, who is new to the village, and will stop at nothing to get her Jazzy into the oversubscribed church school. And then there is my personal favourite, Hugh. Newly retired schoolmaster, who lives with his dog Odo, and has every piece of his clothing on a numbered rotation. Hugh talks to Odo as I do with my Clark, as though he is a human companion, understanding every word. One part in Hugh’s storyline broke my heart. I won’t provide context as I don’t want to spoil any of the plot, except to say that this is spoken to his dog, Odo.

I see now, I really do, that I was only ever a minor character in her life. It was as true then as it is now. And perhaps we were never really suited, were we? (126)

And now, I’ve provided you with three passages, instead of my promised two, so I will cut myself off there.

A number of characters in this book are either facing loss or are going through a phase of transition in their lives. Maxtone Graham does a wonderful job of capturing how as one is facing supreme sadness and loss, life is dotted with moments of beauty and joy. Even the saddest moments in life are not exclusively that. Life and human emotion is more complex. I shed more than a couple of tears while reading this book, but I mostly giggled, smiled, smirked, and nodded along to the ridiculous, funny, endearing, relatable bits in this glorious book. I wholeheartedly loved it.

This one is right up there among my favourite books of the year. And it is one I will be returning to again, before too long.

Now, I really must go have another browse of the Slightly Foxed catalogue. I do believe a little treat is in order.

Love Divine by Ysenda Maxtone Graham, comes out today 1 November 2025 and is available through the Slightly Foxed website.

Thank you Slightly Foxed for kindly sending me a copy of Love Divine for review. I am still pinching myself. As always, all opinions on the book are my own.

***If you got something out of this post, please consider subscribing to my blog. You can find the email sign up on the right hand side at the top of this page (on desktop version only), or click on the link here. You will receive a confirmation email in your inbox (or possibly your junk folder). Once you click to confirm your email address you will receive an email notification whenever a new blog post goes up. And, of course, you can unsubscribe at any time. Feel free to email me if you have any trouble subscribing, or if you just want to chat about books. I would love to hear from you! Whether you subscribe or not, I’m thankful you are here.***

Cyanide in the Sun and Other Stories of Summertime Crime edited by Martin Edwards

Cyanide in the Sun and Other Stories of Summertime Crime is one of the six books I brought with me on our recent trip to Prince Edward Island. I started it on the first day of autumn, which sounds like an incongruous time to be reading a short story collection with a summer theme. However, the stories are not only set in summer, they all feature characters on holiday, too. A fact I was not aware of until I had started reading. This collection turned out to be exactly what I wanted to be reading on my trip. 

Short stories are great for when you only have small pockets of time to read in. And I have to admit that while away I was so overly stimulated by the beautiful landscape and all of the day trips we had lined up, that I was not able to carve out as much time for reading. In what time I did have available, I was often a bit distracted. I still bookended my day with reading, but not for an hour or more at a time, which is what I usually do at home.

In this collection, I discovered lots of new favourites and I have a sneaking suspicion that this book will find its way into my suitcase on my next holiday.

“Kill & Cure” by Guy Cullingford (1958)

A crime writer suffering from nightmares is prescribed a fortnight holiday at a private hotel in Bunmouth. There he just seems to get accustomed to being away from his typewriter when something extraordinary happens with one of his fellow guests. This was humorous, shocking, and very well-told in just a few pages. What a great start to this collection!

“Day Excursion” by Wilfred Fienburgh (1954)

Short and cute scene with Sergeant Pockle on a train with a bunch of “day trippers returning home from Seagate”. All is quiet in the carriage when a little boy claims he spots the man who stole his mum’s purse earlier in the day. Really lovely scene-setting in this story. Despite its brevity we get a sense of Pockle’s humour and general personality, and the other characters are equally well-drawn. 

“The Secret of the Mountain” by C. Bobbett (1928)

A man has a fatal accident on a mountain in the Lake District. His wife, Mrs. Watson suspects it was not an accident, but that an ex-business partner of her husband’s, Mr. Kent, was in some way responsible. Travers, a Scotland Yard detective, investigates. Half the fun of this one is how Travers goes about his investigation and search for the proof of murder. The only thing that didn’t work for me was the framing device, which felt unnecessary and a bit confusing to my tired brain.

“Unlucky Dip” by Andrew Garve (1956)

This is a story that is as clever as it is short. And it is very short indeed. A man dies by drowning during his regular 7:30 a.m. swim, possibly as a result of a muscle cramp. But what of the bruising around his shoulders?

I loved the setting of this one. Just imagine living somewhere with such easy access to the sea that you could enjoy the luxury of a morning swim each day! The downside, of course, is the chance of meeting your death there.

“Quarrel at Sea” by Victor Canning (1956)

This is another one set by the sea. It relies on the victim’s watch to tell the story of time of death, but not in the way you may expect. I just loved it!

“The Holiday” by Ethel Lina White (1938)

I love the start of this one.

Nearly everyone in the small block of old-fashioned mansion-flats seemed to be going on holiday, with the exception of Charles Bevan.

Checked in his ambition to become one of Trenchard’s young men, for the past eight months he had been lying in a back ground-floor flat, which looked out into the well of the courtyard. He disliked reading, so had nothing to do but listen to the rush of bath-water down the pipes from six o’clock in the morning, and to watch the lights appear in the opposite building until the final eclipse. (61)

I assumed “Trenchard’s young men” had something to do with the military, but I had to look it up. Hugh Trenchard, 1st Viscount Trenchard (1873-1956) was important in the establishment of the Royal Air Force. So our man Charles Bevan was unsuccessful at becoming a pilot, which I suspect was a disappointment a number of men had to face during the First and Second World Wars.

But let me describe the premise…

What happens when a bank robber holds up in a woman’s apartment when everyone else on her floor is on holiday. This was a surprisingly touching story with a satisfying ending. I should not have expected anything less from Ethel Lina White. After all, she did write my second favourite British Library Crime Classic, The Wheel Spins. I have yet to read something by White I didn’t love.

“Even Murderers Take Holidays” by Michael Gilbert (1950)

This one shows the author’s sense of humour, as much as his sense of justice. It’s a really fabulous holiday read told from the perspective of Croft, a hired killer. At the beginning of the quotation below, he is describing the benefit of never having met his victims before they become “objects of his professional attention”.

Anonymity was one of the advantages of professionalism.

Nevertheless, there’s no denying, he sometimes felt the strain. And when you feel strain you need a holiday. A quiet holiday, with all business barred. A holiday beside the sea.

At random Croft had selected Blymouth, on the South coast.

The season was nearly over and the first gales of autumn were emptying the promenades and bringing down, with the yellow leaves, the prices at the many boarding houses. (82)

This is a perfect story to be reading at the end of summer or in early autumn. And I have to say, that I applaud his timing for a holiday. I much prefer autumn gales to the stiffling heat of the hot summer sun. But you just know that Croft is going to ruin his holiday when he suddenly finds himself on the job.

Several times, in the course of the ensuing days, Croft warned himself not to be a fool. He reminded himself of the old saying that you should never mix business with pleasure. A holiday was a holiday.

Worse, he was stepping outside his own strict line of business. But however hard he argued he could not argue away the tangible figure of five thousand solid, indisputable, Bank of England pounds.

For years he had been acting as an agent. Now was his chance to become a principal.

For years he had been removing unwanted persons in return for—what? A pittance, a salary. Here was the big money, waiting to fall into his hands. (83-84)

This story was so good! Gilbert just lines up all the pieces of this story so brilliantly. It’s full of an inevitability that is no less satisfying when the obvious conclusion comes to fruition.

“‘Mr. Bearstone Says…’” by Anthony Berkeley (1943)

This one kept me guessing right until the end, and it did not end up where I thought it would at all. A man dies while out for his morning swim, and his wife is near hysterical about it. But what of Mr. Bearstone, the ex-business partner of Mr. Hutton? What if Mr. Bearstone and his lover, Mrs. Hutton, were in cahoots? Of course it was possible, but the station sergeant, Roger, met Mrs. Hutton at a party in November 1939 and got the impression that she was a very silly creature. Now, some years later, the question is, could such a silly woman be trusted as an accomplice to murder? This was another goodie!

“In the Picture” by Nicholas Bentley (1956)

There is an atmospheric, almost Ripley-esque feel to this story. Two couples go to France for a holiday, but one of the members of the group has a plan to appease his jealousy towards his admirable wife. This was another short one, of which, there are a number in this collection. Normally, I gravitate towards longer short stories, but I have to say I found all of the stories in this collection to be really strong, and this one was no different. 

“And the Police Were Not Called” by Bernard J. Farmer (1951)

This is a cute little mystery featuring a police constable who is staying on holiday at a boarding house where missing five pounds goes missing. 

“Consider Your Verdict” by Anthony Gilbert (1956)

A woman, our narrator, meets a man on holiday. She makes herself sound wealthier than she is, because she wants to impress him. Meanwhile, he fails to mention he’s a conman. This was a fun one. Moral of the story… One should not tell lies! 

Side note… The conman is named Gil Arnott. I always get a bit of a thrill when I come across a my own last name (Arnett), even if it is a variant spelling and it’s just the character name of a criminal. Is anyone else like this?

“Crooked Harvest” by Shelley Smith (1947)

Nigel Armstrong, an antique dealer imagines himself rescuing a woman that he has recently met and fallen for. When the opportunity arises to save her from a crook he seizes it with unexpected results.

The opening made me laugh.

Nigel Armstrong wondered disconsolately why he had ever imagined that a quiet holiday in the country would be fun. It was dull, unbearably dull. No one to talk to, nothing to do but walk. He kicked an inoffensive stone along the lane. It wasn’t true that country folk were friendly, they were hatefully reserved and stuck up.

That adorably pretty Miss Brown, for instance. Her house was a stone’s throw from his, they saw each other daily, and yet he could not get into conversation with her. (129)

Nigel has basically described my ideal holiday, or life, for that matter. Countryside, dull, no one to talk to, and lots of walks. Add books to the list and you can sign me up. 

You will be glad to know that Nigel’s holiday does pick up quite a bit.

“Cyanide in the Sun” by Christianna Brand (1958)

The problem with having a favourite author is that you come to expect quite a lot from them. Christianna Brand is the author of my favourite British Library Crime Classic, London Particular, so I expected this one to be my favourite story in the bunch. It was not. Her book, Cat and Mouse, took me reading it a second time to really enjoy it, so perhaps I will have to give this one another go, too.

A serial killer who preys on random strangers stalks the seaside town of Scampton. The means of murder, cyanide in the food. The whodunit aspect was obvious to me from the start, so obvious I thought it could not possibly be them. The howdunit was much more interesting, but that it required an explanation dampened the punch. 

“The Fly” by John Bingham (1953)

A man dies while night fishing in Norway. It could be an accidental death, but Superintendent Wills, an experienced fisherman himself, thinks not. This story was short and smart. 

“A Holiday by the Sea” by Will Scott (1924)

Giglamps, a do-gooder tramp, and his new friend, Cheerful—who isn’t—catch a ride to Margate. There they find themselves on the trail of a pretty boy conman, and his band of thieves. This was such a fun one! Giglamps was such a character! I would love to read the collection of Will Scott’s short stories featuring this character, called simply, Giglamps (1924).

The passage I am about to share is a smidge spoiler-y, so skip it if that bothers you. But I had to share it because it’s such a great example of Giglamps’ voice.

“[I]t’s really remarkable the amount o’ good we done by comin’ to Margate for eight hours, although there’s all the cops in Kent lookin’ for us, although the only chance we had to bathe was in trouble. We never got no nearer the sea than the smell, but we done a mighty lot o’ good. Except to ourselves.” (183) 

Doesn’t he sound fun?!

“Two on a Tower” by Michael Innes (1956)

A tidy little story about a couple and a friend who travel together to Italy, with deadly results. Smartly worded, brief, with a strangely satisfying conclusion.

“The Summer Holiday” by Celia Fremlin (1983)

Celia Fremlin just writes the best crime fiction. This was tense, believable, but also completely unbelievable—if you know what I mean. Clever and deceptively simple. There is no mystery here, but with this much tension and atmosphere, it doesn’t need one. I loved it!

She would never have believed that widowhood would suit her so well. She would have said, if you’d asked her, that she was one of those unassuming, dependent little women who would be lost without a man to lean on.

And now here she was not feeling lost at all, not the least bit. It was amazing—and, in a way, rather disturbing. (191)

One of my favourite things about Fremlin’s writing is her ability to write women who subvert expectations. In this one, Emmy will stop at nothing to avoid going on holiday with her family, even if it results in the police getting involved.  

“The Summer Holiday Murders” by Julian Symons (1960)

My favourite of the bunch has to be this long, almost novella length story. It had great pacing, kept me guessing, and I suspected just about every character, but the culprit. 

One of the women on a coach tour is found drowned in a pool, having appeared to have fallen down some rocks and hit her head. It could have been an accident. But what about the copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes with the pages torn out that was found beside her? When a writer of detective stories who is on the tour researching his next book, inserts himself into the investigation things really start to heat up! It’s just so good! I really must read more by this author in future.

Like a cruise, there is something so sinister about a coach tour. All those people of various backgrounds in forced proximity with each other, being carted around for brief stops, and planned surprises feels like the prime scenario for crime to flourish. And flourish it does in this story!

I love how Martin Edwards signs off his introduction to this collection, not least because I read this book while on holiday. 

If you’re reading this collection on holiday, I hope you enjoy it—but keep your eyes peeled for sinister strangers prowling around your resort or hotel corridors, and if you’re travelling in a group, do watch out for your fellow passengers. They might not be all they seem… (11)

I must admit, it made me feel grateful that I knew who I was holidaying with quite well, and we only had two nights during which we would be rolling the dice with our safety while staying at a hotel!

Thank you to British Library Publishing for kindly sending me a copy of Cyanide in the Sun for review. As always, all opinions on the book are my own.

***If you got something out of this post, please consider subscribing to my blog. You can find the email sign up on the right hand side at the top of this page (on desktop version only), or click on the link here. You will receive a confirmation email in your inbox (or possibly your junk folder). Once you click to confirm your email address you will receive an email notification whenever a new blog post goes up. And, of course, you can unsubscribe at any time. Feel free to email me if you have any trouble subscribing, or if you just want to chat about books. I would love to hear from you! Whether you subscribe or not, I’m thankful you are here.***

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I have started something new...

It's official! I've started a YouTube channel. My first video went up yesterday. I would love for you to check it out!

I will continue to share long-form reviews on here, and will still be posting on Instagram. And the Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Prince Edward Island blog series will continue. But I will also be sharing a couple of vlogs on YouTube of our recent trip to PEI. I love the video format, and I hope the vlogs will provide a nice supplement to the Maud-related posts. The first one of those will be up this coming Sunday 19 October at 12 p.m ET. Going forward I plan for Sundays at noon to be my weekly upload time. 

But for now, enjoy this little introduction.

Lucy Maud Montgomery's Prince Edward Island, Part 3: Anne of Green Gables Museum

It was [Pat’s] favourite window, opening outward like the porthole of a ship. She never went up to Judy’s room without stopping to look from it. Dear little fitful breezes came to that window that never came anywhere else and you saw such lovely things out of it. The big grove of white birch on the hill behind it which gave Silver Bush its name and which was full of dear little screech owls that hardly ever screeched but purred and laughed. (Pat of Silver Bush 17)

When I was first planning this trip to Prince Edward Island, one of the things I found most difficult is distinguishing between all of the various Lucy Maud Montgomery related sites. All the names seemed so similar, and I had no point of reference as to what was located where. For the longest time I thought that the Anne of Green Gables Museum must be in the same location as Green Gables Heritage Place. It is not. They are close, though. At the end of this blog series, I will include our itinerary and maybe even the timestamps, so if anyone is planning a trip they can see where things are in relation to each other, and how much time you need to visit all the spots. 

I must apologise that it is taking me longer than I had anticipated to get these blog posts out. They are a bit time consuming to put together, and as I was writing this one I was planning and preparing for our next trip to PEI. We just arrived on the lsland on Sunday night, so this will probably be my last blog post until I return to Ontario in October. I have been thinking of September as my Lucy Maud Montgomery month, as I have been exclusively reading her books and non-fiction surrounding her and her writing, but I quite like the idea of continuing this journey into October. As I discussed in some length in my first post of this series, Maud’s books are very dear to me, and in many ways I don’t think I would be the person I am today if it hadn’t been for her books. It seems fitting then that I continue to share my love for Maud and her books into my birthday month. 

Now, let’s head up Route 20 past the Lake of Shinning Waters to Park Corner. The Anne of Green Gables Museum is a 110-acre property with beautiful scenery, and though seeing the Lake of Shinning Waters with my own eyes was very nice, I must say the traffic on Route 20 did spoil the effect somewhat. Although, the horses we spotted in the pasture and had a bit of a chat with did cushion the blow. How I wished though that “Matthew’s Carriage Rides”, which are offered by the museum, were powered by horse, instead of tractor! Do not be discouraged by my complaints of the moderns world spoiling this rural idyll. There are many reasons to visit this home. 

The home was built in 1872, by Maud’s Aunt Annie and Uncle John Campbell, on the property which was first settled by the Campbell family in 1776. Maud spent a lot of time at the Campbell farm when she was a child. She was known as Aunt Maud to James Campbell and his siblings, though she was their cousin. It was James Campbell’s wife, Ruth, who opened their home to the public in 1972, realising James’s dream after he died to run a museum dedicated to his Aunt Maud. 

One of the things that make this property special is that the Campbell family still live here. Unlike Green Gables Heritage Place, which we will visit in my next blog post, the Anne of Green Gables Museum is still owned and operated by Maud’s relatives. In fact it is the son of James and Ruth, George Campbell who lives there with his family. Copies of Anne of Green Gables (in hardcover and paperback) and The Story Girl are published by Kindred Spirits of PEI, a publishing company run by George Campbell. It is particularly nice to be able to pick up a copy of The Story Girl when you visit the museum because it is home to the real life inspiration for “The Blue Chest of Rachel Ward”. Rachel Ward was Eliza Montgomery, a cousin of Maud’s father, who died in Toronto. She left instructions that her blue chest not be opened until her death. The chest contained her wedding dress and a number of other items in preparation for the wedding that was not to be. Some of the items found inside are also on display in the house, which I have to say gave me a little thrill to see. I would highly recommend reading The Story Girl before you visit the home, so you can have a greater appreciation for the lore around the chest and the disappointed romance of Eliza Montgomery. Here is a passage from the fictionalised account in The Story Girl. 

“Will Montague fell in love with Rachel Ward, and she with him, and it was all arranged that they were to be married from here in the spring. Poor Rachel was so happy that winter; she made all her wedding things with her own hands. Girls did, then, you know, for there was no such thing as a sewing-machine. Well, at last in April the wedding day came, and all the guests were here, and Rachel was dressed in her wedding robes, eating for her bride-groom. And” — the Story Girl laid down her knife and her potato and clasped her wet hands — “Will Montague never came!” (The Story Girl 123)

The reason the bride groom failed to appear at his own wedding was not because he had been killed. As the Story Girl says, “that would have been suitable and romantic” (123). Will Montague had run away for debt and had not so much as sent a note of explanation to his bride-to-be.

“She was broken-hearted of course. When she found out what had happened, she took all her wedding things, and her supply of linen, and some presents that had been given her, and packed them all away in this old blue chest. Then she went away back to Montreal, and took the key with her. She never came back to the Island again — I suppose she couldn't bear to. And she has lived in Montreal ever since and never married. She is an old woman now — nearly seventy-five. And this chest has never been opened since.” (124-25)

At the end of the book, Rachel Ward has died and the chest is opened, much to the excitement of the children, who have been dreaming about what romantic treasures might be inside. But the Story Girl makes an astute observation about expectation verses reality. 

“Of course it was very interesting to see the old chest unpacked,” said the Story Girl, as she stirred the contents of a saucepan vigorously. “But now that it is over I believe I am sorry that it is opened. It isn’t mysterious any longer. We know all about it now, and we can never imagine what things are in it any more.

“It’s better to know than to imagine,” said Felicity.

“Oh, no, it isn’t,” said the Story Girl quickly. “When you know things you have to go by facts. But when you just dream about things there’s nothing to hold you down.” (345)

So much of Maud’s writing is about dreaming, having aspirations, and building castles in the sky, but there is always a bend in the road and things have a way of turning out much different from what her characters’ have imagined for themselves. Something we can all relate to, I expect. In the above photo, you can see some of the items from the real blue chest, which are on display in one of the upstairs bedrooms in the Campbell home. Hopefully, you do not experience the same deflation from expectation to reality that the Story Girl went through.

Heading out of the kitchen in the Campbell home, you enter what I believe is the original part of the house. A narrow hall opens out into an airy space that leads to the staircase and, if I am remembering correctly, the front door to the house is straight ahead. But first let’s turn to the first door on the left where we will find a bright bedroom full of beautiful details. 

Note the bedspread, I would love to make something like it for the foot of our bed. I expect the cloth on the dresser, as well as the mat, is handmade too. 

You will notice Maud’s books scattered throughout the house. It’s always a pleasure to see vintage editions of her books. Prepare yourself for a bit of a thrill when you enter the parlour.

It is in this parlour, in front of the mantle, that Maud was married to Reverend Ewan Macdonald on 5 July 1911. 

This is the same organ that was played at her wedding, and is still played today when weddings are held here. People from all over the world come here to be married. I wish I had known about this before I got married! Although, my husband-to-be might not have been onboard back then. However, I am thrilled to report that he is now an Anne fan himself. Honestly, I wish I had written down some of the comments that he made to me as he was reading Anne of Green Gables for the first time. I am convinced he loved the book even more than I did. Which just goes to show that Maud’s writing can capture the hearts of young and old alike, be they avid readers, or not. 

Apologies for the reflections in many of these photos. I did the best I could with the time I had available. There were other people visiting the home at the same time, so many of these photos were quick snaps I took when the area was clear. 

I could have spent all day gazing into Anne’s Enchanted Bookcase. The bookcase and chair were salvaged from Maud’s Cavendish home before it was demolished. She used to imagine her reflection was another little girl, who she called Katie Maurice. If the name sounds familiar, it is because Maud gave Anne the same imaginary friend.

When I lived with Mrs Thomas she had a bookcase in her sitting-room with glass doors. There weren’t any books in it; Mrs Thomas kept her best china and her preserves there — when she had any preserves to keep. One of the doors was broken. Mr Thomas smashed it one night when he was slightly intoxicated. But the other was whole and I used to pretend that my reflection in it was another little girl who lived in it. I called her Katie Maurice, and we were very intimate. I used to talk to her by the hour, especially on Sunday, and tell her everything. Katie was the comfort and consolation of my life. We used to pretend that the bookcase was enchanted and that if I only knew the spell I could open the door and step right into the room where Katie Maurice lived, instead of into Mrs Thomas’ shelves of preserves and china. And then Katie Maurice would have taken me by the hand and led me out into a wonderful place, all flowers and sunshine and fairies, and we would have lived there happy for ever after. When I went to live with Mrs Hammond it just broke my heart to leave Katie Maurice. She felt it dreadfully, too, I know she did, for she was crying when she kissed me goodbye through the bookcase door. (Anne of Green Gables 83-84)

I have loved Maud’s books since I was little, but outside of her writing, I did not know much about her before taking this trip. Reading this letter, which is mounted on the parlour wall, was a rude awakening for me. In the moment, I almost wished I had not read it. I always imagined Maud living a lovely life, complete with a happy ending, just like her characters. It breaks my heart that this was not the case. I have transcribed the letter below for anyone who has difficulty reading from a photo. (Pro tip: If you click on any of the photos on my blog it will open a better quality version, and from there you have the ability to scroll through all of the photos within a post. It took me ages to discover this feature.)

Oct 8, 1941

Dear Jim,

Thanks for the ten dollars. I am very ill and will never see Park Corner again. Don’t let them stampede you into going to war. You are more needed at home. Park Corner would go forever if you went. Mr. MacDonald’s nerves are very bad. Chester’s wife has left him and gone home to her father. Partially his fault and partly hers. He has broken our hearts this past 10 years and ___ I tried to hide it and seen ___ to happen. For he has a brilliant brain but will not work. My heart is broken and it is that has broken me. I have to have a nurse and can’t afford it. I am not and never the rich woman I was supposed to be. Fame is not riches. You must not go to war. Tell them you are the only son at home and your mother would not live to see you come back. I can hardly write—my nerves are so terrible. Stuart is interne in hospital but I suppose they will take him too. I think my mind is going. 

Aunt Maud

Rest from worry is what I need and I cannot get that anywhere. I am alone. 

The transcribed letter in the photo notes “Author died the following Spring of 1942”.

Before we head up the stairs to the second floor, here are a few photos from the walls of the first floor hall. The first is of Lover’s Lane in 1920. For anyone not familiar, Lover’s Lane is a trail in Avonlea, near Green Gables, and is introduced in Anne of Green Gables.

The second photo is of Maud’s Grandfather MacNeil’s home. Maud lived here as a little girl. What makes this photo so special is that this building can no longer be visited. You can visit the site of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Cavendish Home, but that is all it is, the site only. The house was torn down in 1920 to detract tourists from coming to the abandoned home. 

The third photo is of Maud’s maternal grandparents, who she lived with in the MacNeil house pictured previously. 

One of the upstairs bedrooms is where Maud stayed when she came to visit. Unfortunately, I didn’t make note of which of the bedrooms was Maud’s, but I do believe it is this first one. The letter from King George V upon her appointment as an Officer of the British Empire (OBE) in 1935, sits framed on the bed. The letter is signed by Edward VIII.  This is also the bedroom where you will find the items from inside Eliza Montgomery’s blue chest.

Stella Campbell’s room is next. Inside is a stunning display of Maud’s books on a table that I wish was a little closer to the door—so my aging eyes could see them clearly. 

Also on display is a crazy patchwork quilt worked on by Maud between the ages of 12 and 16. The fabric would have been sourced from scraps left over from other sewing projects as well as old garments. I love the idea that garments from Maud’s family and friends went into the making of this quilt. I wish we saw more of this thrifty repurposing of garments now. 

Next are some views of the upstairs hallway. 

I will see if I can get some better photos of these display cabinets on my next trip.

Especially of this next one, which is a great shot of my face in the door’s reflection, but fails in showing the china from Maud’s Aunt Emily’s collection. There is a reference to Emily of New Moon here, I just know it. Unfortunately, it’s been so long since I’ve read the books that I cannot provide it here.

This cabinet has some foreign editions across the top and a collection of first edition books signed by Maud and given to members of the Campbell family. We were a little rushed for time at this point and I did not get nearly enough time looking at the letters and other bits on display. I will at least try to get some photos of these things next time, so I can examine them at my leisure, and share them, too!

We move on to the last bedroom upstairs. Well, the last open bedroom. Upstairs and downstairs there were some rooms that were closed off, as the Campbell family still lives in this home. A few things I love about this room are the cute owl quilt, which I must discover the story about, the Anne of Green Gables pillow on the rocking chair by the door, that says “Celebrating 100 years”, and the beautiful mat by the door. Oh, and all of the furniture in this room, but especially the little bassinet, which looks like something out of a fairytale. 

Off the kitchen downstairs is a gift shop. Here’s a photo of the cute wallpaper border on the walls in there. There is also a whole other building, which I did not photograph, that has a huge gift shop, a sit down area where you can order a beverage, and toilets.

Now for the exterior. This is the view from the back of the kitchen, where you exit after you have finished touring the home.

As you leave the house, walk straight ahead and perhaps you will see some horses in the fields. I took way too much time chatting to these beauties as they kindly posed for photos and videos.

They loved the Secret Field better than all the other fields. It seemed somehow to belong to them as if they had been the first to discover it; it was so different from the poor, bleak, little stony field behind the barn that nobody loved … nobody but Pat. She loved it because it was a Silver Bush field. That was enough for Pat. (Pat of Silver Bush 18)

Once you tear yourself away from the horses, you can continue down the hill to The Lake of Shining Waters. If you are looking for this location on a map it is called “Campbell’s Pond”, but in the fictional town of Avonlea, everyone other than Anne refers to this body of water as plain old Barry’s Pond.

The Anne of Green Gables Museum is chock full of literary references to Maud’s books. This is a home she loved and spent a lot of time in as a child. This location, more than any of the others I visited on this trip, made me wish I had all of Maud’s books fresh in my mind. This trip I’m hoping to read Pat of Silver Bush and reread Emily of New Moon to better appreciate the Campbell’s beautiful property and home. 

There was the evening star in a pale silvery field of sky just over the tall fir tree that shot up in the very centre of the silver bush. The first star always gave her a thrill. Wouldn’t it be lovely if she could fly up to that dark swaying fir-top between the evening star and the darkness? (Pat of Silver Bush 26)

Additional information:

Address

Anne of Green Gables Museum

4542 Route 20

Park Corner, PE

C0B 1M0

Museum and Gift Shop (902) 886-2884

Office (M-F 8 a.m. - 5 p.m.) Toll-free (800) 665-2663 

info@annemuseum.com

annemuseum.com

Hours

July 1 - August 31 9 a.m. - 5 p.m.

September 1 - Sept 30 10 a.m. - 4 p.m.

October 1 - October 15 11 a.m. - 4 p.m.

Other useful information

Free parking

Air conditioning (I think!)

Washrooms

$9.00 per adult

$3.00 per child 6-16 years

Free for children 5 years and under

Matthew’s Carriage Rides

Start at $175 per carriage

For details, and to book, visit their website.

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