I'd forgotten Teddy was supposed to be such a womanizer lmao, which makes his cardboardness (for some readers!) all the more intriguing from a narrative perspective
Do you think you can expound on what you meant by LMM showing her hand/Dean being condemned by cat aversion? I was skimming the Emily tag and came across your post. Just curious!
I’m sooo cracking up and embarrassed right now, because while I do fr believe that... I’m not exactly sure I can wholly defend it. Or even remotely ask anyone else to consider getting onboard with that kind of intense inferring. But I’m going to do my best to have a go at it (🥴) and attempt to explain where my head was at with all that, while also letting it be a lesson to myself to not just be out here saying things sometimes, lol.
Also as a small sidenote: I tried to find the post you might be referencing, and I’m all but certain it must’ve been a very old conversation with @no-where-new-hero, but it must’ve also predated my searchable tagging practices because alas, I cannot find it. So… I’m already sorry-in-advance if I veer off into unrelated areas or miss the ‘ask’ mark completely. But I think you mean that at some point I said Maud “showed her hand” early in the Emily series by having Dean Priest say that he wouldn’t keep a cat. I’ll double check, but I think his exact quote is: “I like cats but I never keep one.”
Which, to a casual reader... doesn’t mean a whole lot. Yet when I look back at this, as a non-casual reader, after many re-reads and a little bit of Maud experience, I do kind of now recognise that as a tell. At least it’s a proper LMM red flag. Especially when we experience and feel the depth of cat symbolism and heavy-handed cat presence in the Emily series. And of Emily. How Emily is repeatedly and often assigned a cat-like nature + appearance in the narrative and by other characters in the book. She’s told at school that she has cat ears, and she’s even nicknamed “puss” by Cousin Jimmy. Emily’s Wind Woman purrs. It’s everywhere in Emily. If we advance even a bit further, into broad and ancient symbolism, we can also reflect on timeless and universal cat symbolism… the cat alignment with femininity. The same way dogs are aligned and representative of masculinity.
So when we consider all of this and juxtapose Dean’s statement against Montgomery’s men that did get their girls, I think it speaks even louder. Teddy had Smoke and Buttercup. Barney had Good Luck and Banjo. Cats are so important to Maud and her stories that she has Gilbert (the son of a cat lady, eventual owner of the First Mate, and saviour of Ingleside housecat the Shrimp) mention them in his finally-accepted proposal to Anne. He says, “I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends—and you!” (Which P.S. is even a veeeery interesting order, in my veeeery-stretched opinion. A cat, then a dog. The feminine before the masculine. You before me, Gilbert says.)
To me... Emily is the cat that Dean will never keep. Much later, when their engagement is dissolving, he says, “… Perhaps that is why I couldn’t keep you.” Which is lowkey full circle. (If you squint.)
YES i also remember this conversation but since my tagging practices don’t exist I probably wouldn’t be able to find it either 😭 It absolutely came up re: a scholarly article that I’m fairly sure @gogandmagog sent me last year, where the writer made this claim of Dean-as-dog-person-being-bad, so I think that’s where it’s from. @emilyclimbs i can try to find the article again for you! I must have it somewhere among my LMM scholarship downloads!
Most Maud Men are safely cat people, though I do think it’s interesting that Teddy is also somewhat a dog boy. He has a puppy called Leo in Book 1, so he’s not solely a cat person the way Barney and Gilbert are. Teddy also buys Ilse a blue chow as an engagement gift in Book 3—which does speak volumes, in my opinion, of dogs as somewhat off-putting masculine posturing in the LMMverse since it’s mostly a wealth-signaling gift. Dogs are a statement for Teddy and Dean—of possession or control or status—that’s also linked to their own power over their respective environments. With Dean, it’s obviously an extension of his Gothic-hero coding; with Teddy, it seems to play into what extent he can escape his mother—since he’s allowed to protect Leo, but not his cats. The cats (his femininity, his artistic connection to Emily?) are sabotaged as his mother sabotages his romance, but not Leo (his masculine ambition, his escape from Blair Water and success in the world).
Who do you think will emerge as a fan favorite during the Rilla club?
Rilla, because #growth matters
Susan, because she's a quotable icon
Una, because [system error: user too overcome with love for character]
Faith, because she's got ~It
Mary Vance, because she's the spiritual child of Mrs. Lynde and Miss Cornelia
Gertrude Oliver, because we all need some witchy vibes
Di, because she is elusive yet compelling
Nan, because of Jerry's letter
Voting ended onJun 9, 2025
I excluded Anne because it seems a little ridiculous to ask whether anne shirley, one of the most beloved literary characters of all time, would be a fan favorite
Following Walter, I’m asking the tumblr scholars (I dropped this in gogandmagog’s inbox too), do you think Anne was queer?
Lol, I shall defer to our resident anne expert gogandmagog for her anne-swer, but my instinct is immediately no. While we do have that hilarious passage from AOGG about Anne desperately hating Diana's husband, the fact is that from age eleven, Anne quite clearly likes a boy even if she won't admit it to herself. That doesn't preclude her being queer, but there's not the same tension to Anne's experience of the world's expectations of her that Walter has.
Also, there are certain fictional characters who I simply cannot fathom dating anyone else than whom they end up with canonically, because the relationship is so intrinsically tied to their character arc and traits. I think I hit this with Anne - I simply can't imagine her being seriously attracted to anyone other than Gilbert. There's a really fun fic waiting in the shadows here of an Anne who never met Gilbert and who is properly dating [insert male character here, maybe Roy], only to meet Gilbert and be like oh dear (if she's even willing to admit it to herself). Anyway, I struggle with picturing Anne in any other relationship, regardless of gender.
If I were to pick another character besides Walter in the Anne series, I think Di, Anne's daughter, could very very easily be interpreted as queer. She's someone I kind of wish LMM had delved deeper into, because she kind of disappears in Rilla. Alas!
Lmao omg no deferment necessary, because I totally agreeee, and I don’t think I could begin to say so any better or any more concisely than this. 🫡 (I’m also just going to piggy-back here too, instead of double-posting the same ask, I hope that’s cool with anonymous. 👀)
In terms of the canon Anne works… for me the notion of Anne being queer is a really hard sell, and I think the easiest way to reduce the ‘why’ into its simplest form comes down to the way that Anne is omnivorous in her romancing of the world around her, and subsequently the way that for her romance ≠ attraction or desire.
You can do a lot of quote-mining with Anne and paint as specific of a picture as you would like, but imo when you take a wide angle lens and examine the whole text thoroughly, you will find that Anne is an equal opportunity romanticiser, and that this tendency is seriously applied to everything – animate or inanimate, a seagull or a best friend, the most mundane chores to the most fanciful events. She’ll imagine she’s a frost fairy while doing Green Gables meal prep and end up with a mouse drowned in plum sauce, if she’s been possibly abandoned at a train station she’ll build up a coping-mechanism fantasy about what it’d be like to sleep in a cherry tree, she’ll spin a dreamy yarn about a lost brooch in order to go to a Sunday school picnic, she’ll dramatise Tennyson’s Elaine and nearly die for it… she even attempted to romanticise Marilla and make her a sort of long lost ‘aunt’.
After so many years spent self-soothing her tragical and loveless life by making friends with her reflection and finding solace in books (her only true example of how loving people behave; no doubt where she’s learned to ask for locks of hair and to sleep with letters under pillows tbh), romance is cultivated in her, it’s who she is as a person, it’s just what she doessss.
Regarding Diana specifically, and as mentioned by OP, the number one thing people like to say, in varying degrees of solemnity, is, “Anne cried over the idea of Diana getting married; there’s no heterosexual explanation for that.” And it’s true, laid out like that, it definitely sounds super gay. But it’s also kind of contextphobic. It leaves out the “why.” It leaves out Anne’s history of desertion, and abuse, and how afraid she is that her new attachments will be taken from her.
Backing up a tiny bit too, this wasn’t just a spontaneous notion that burst into Anne’s mind, either. The narrative right before this highlights reflection on Anne ‘hating’ Gilbert (we know she doesn’t, she later confesses to having ‘always’ loved him), so what follows logically was probably something like Gilbert 👉🏻secret heart-of-hearts thoughts of feelings or crushes or marriage 👉🏻 Anne fully believing no one would ever love her or marry her (citable in multiple places) 👉🏻 Diana, Anne’s best friend, who was the first person to ever tell her (an abused and unwanted orphan, treated like a burden her whole life) she loved her (not even Matthew or Marilla had, at this point), being married and therefore forcibly removed from Anne’s life by an outside/third party (funnily it’ll be Mrs Barry to be the first to do this, actually). It’s only understandable that this would cause enormous distress for Anne (the modern equivalent of a fifth grader), experiencing freely given affection for the first time. Anne’s never had anywhere to put all her life down before. It makes perfect sense that she’d latch onto that relationship with a death grip, and wholly resist it being lost.
But, okay, even if it was a totally spontaneous thought, there’s also the matter of the follow up. Diana does grow up and marry. Anne doesn’t cry. Her heart is not breaking. She doesn’t hate Fred. And very much Anne is laughing at her old self for these thoughts.
Anne of the Island by L.M. Montgomery
This also nicely outlines that it wasn’t Diana being married that troubled Anne (that would be gayer), so much as the parting it would cause (how many of us indefinitely lose our friends when they get in a new relationship?). Being a wife at this time meant overseeing the running of a household, which without help (Diana wouldn’t have a Susan), would take up a huge portion of one’s day, a proper full-time job. Small Anne would have seen this as very limiting on cavorting best friendish activities. Small Anne saw Diana marrying as a step backward into a friendless, loveless life.
But it’s also like, you know, Anne in other places waxing equally as poetical about beautiful boy genius Paul Irving, a ten-year-old pupil whom she imagines as a future star, and whose mouth she describes as ‘delicious’. Very romantic speech here too. So much so that I distinctly remember that someone once posted that they thought Anne might’ve ended up with Paul, if he’d been older — and certainly when you isolate those quotes too it totally reads that way, when again, it’s just the nature of Anne and her language. She cries bitterly over Mrs Barry forbidding Diana from seeing Anne again after the raspberry cordial incident… but then Anne weeps bitterly over say, the ‘Ben Hur’ incident at school too.
Circling back, which is essentially what I like to say when I know I’m making the same point two or three times in one place 😅… to Anne romance is just a way of life. And none of her tendency to apply her universal romance to other people (Diana, Paul, etc.) really has much to do with her true sexual identity. For that we have to peek at other passages for cues, like when we see occasions of Anne physically responding to glances and touches – the pleasant feeling of the warm pressure of a hand pressed over hers, or hot blushes that come involuntarily, her heart inexplicably (lmao ANNE) fluttering – all this exclusive to Gilbert. [read: I do hear you that Anne ‘thrills’ when Diana tells her she loves her, but for some leavening, this thought is yet again neutralised, as in the same book Anne also gets thrills from 1. looking at maple branches, 2. naming the White Way of Delight, 3. people using their best china, and 4. the programme of the White Sands concert. And these are just off the top of my head. There’s easily a dozen more examples of Anne getting a thrill in this novel, while the same cannot be said for her heart fluttering.]
Now anyway, alllll this said, something that makes me laugh out loud in terms of Anne x any girl (Diana especially), is when I see people look down from their very high horse and scoff to these poor shippers like, “😡 stop sexualising friendships.” Because please. Please. Be so for real. Do you… know Montgomery at all? I don’t want to be a jerk, but it’s a very silly thing to say when 9 out of 10 Montgomery protagonists end up marrying someone they’ve been friends with since they were a small child. You’re saying this about L.M. Montgomery? Montgomery who wrote;
Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery
What an airball. I crack my knuckles before I block these people.
I hate to go up against these giants in the field, but I have to disagree. I do think that Anne’s love for Gilbert is unique and special, but I also think that Anne’s many relationships with different women have an important place in Sapphic tradition.
Firstly, Diana. Yes, there’s the crying over future wedding scene, but there’s also two separate scenes in which the two swear eternal devotion to each other—scenes that can read like wedding vows. Do they have to? No. But were such schoolgirl intimate friendships often a safe place to explore romantic and sexual attraction? Yes.
Through Anne’s life, we see her progress from hero worship of Mrs. Allan (with whom she “fell promptly and wholeheartedly in love”) and Miss Stacy to more intimate friendships with Stella (with whom she is “infatuated”), Priscilla, Phil, Katherine (who we know was based on a real lesbian Montgomery knew and who she calls “my Katherine”), and Leslie—to being the object of a hero crush herself, said in so many words, in “Anne of Windy Poplars”: “Hazel Marr had a notorious ‘crush’ on Anne.” While this ultimately goes wrong, Anne initially enjoys Hazel’s admiration and sees herself at a younger age in Hazel, including Hazel having a similar hatred of Gilbert go young Anne’s hatred of Diana’s future husband.
Can there be heterosexual explanations for all of this? Can it all be explained away as dramatic expressions of platonic love? Yes. However, I think it is also important to keep in mind that Anne lived in the nineteenth century, the era where lesbian* relationships flourished under the guise of schoolgirl friendship. This was a time when women were able to express their love and live as married couples, with people who didn’t want to know able to dismiss them simply as friends, roommates, living together until they met the right man. Both intimate friendships and hero crushes were important lesbian courtship rituals, a language that was plausibly deniable to the outside world but understood by those in the know.
Why, then, would Anne have been able to fly under the radar but Walter not? For three reasons, off the top of my head. First, because Walter lived in a later era than his mother. In the early twentieth century, queer sexuality was coming more under a microscope, being studied by scientists, in a way it had not been in the nineteenth. Second, because historically, men’s sexuality has always been more closely examined than women’s. For much of history, women were not considered to have sexual desire at all, so their affection with each other could be written off as platonic in a way that men’s could not. Society also, in Anne’s time as now, allowed and expected for women to express their emotions but expected men to repress theirs. This doesn’t necessarily mean that women’s emotions were taken seriously—Anne’s often aren’t—but while hers could be laughed off, Walter’s would be considered a problem.
Which brings me to my third reason: because Anne may love other women, but in all other ways, she is gender-conforming. Despite all the dither over her red hair and freckles, she has a delicate face and figure, a high, clear voice, and long eyelashes that meet societal approval. She likes pretty clothes and knows how to wear them. She likes pretty houses and knows how to decorate them. In the long run, she becomes a good cook. She never denies that she wants to get married or have children, but even if she did, she would be a non-threatening old maid who kept her house clean and always had cookies for her friends’ children—in fact, this is one future she imagines for herself, although that is mostly out of insecurity that no one will want to marry her. On the other hand, consider women in the Anne universe who don’t hit these points: Mrs. Campbell, Katherine Brooke, Judith Marsh, Emmeline Strong, Hester Meredith. Thick eyebrows, large hands, deep voices, unmarried or widowed young—and every one of them a bully whose only hope is to be reformed.
And now consider Walter. He is so very much his mother’s son. He inherited her delicate features, her love of beauty, her poetic aspirations—but where these are commendable in a woman, they are a problem in a man. If he loved men but was otherwise gender-conforming, tough like his brothers and even like Paul Irving can be when the situation calls for it, it would be one thing. But he isn’t. Everyone can see that he is different, and so he is a threat to the social order in a way that his mother never was.
I…do not know how to finish this. But those are my thoughts. Thank you for your time.
*I use this as an umbrella term for women who love women; I would call Anne specifically bisexual.
Can there be heterosexual explanations for all of this? Can it all be explained away as dramatic expressions of platonic love? Yes. However, I think it is also important to keep in mind that Anne lived in the nineteenth century, the era where lesbian* relationships flourished under the guise of schoolgirl friendship. This was a time when women were able to express their love and live as married couples, with people who didn’t want to know able to dismiss them simply as friends, roommates, living together until they met the right man. Both intimate friendships and hero crushes were important lesbian courtship rituals, a language that was plausibly deniable to the outside world but understood by those in the know.
I find this interesting, especially the fourth sentence about the guise of schoolgirl love, because this is something that connects to a larger LMM discussion about the way she portrays female friendships both in her novels and her diaries. I would say she pretty consistently presents it with romantic language in her novels, to the point where it's possible to read several of her heroines as queer by these standards. (Anne, Emily, and other side characters like Di). You're right that it has an important place in the Sapphic tradition, generally and specifically, because iirc there were lesbians who literally told LM Montgomery to her face they found themselves in her work. LM Montgomery very much did not like this, but I do think it points to how that reading of the text has been there for a long time.
From an author's intent perspective, LMM definitely didn't intend it, although there are people out there arguing she was a repressed lesbian the entire time. From an in-text perspective, I think it's more than possible to read that way, and I think those interpretations are valid for the very reasons you mention! For me personally, however, I think within the style of LM Montgomery's writing - and the wider context of her other work - Anne doesn't come across as queer. All of this is very much based on personal interpretation (there's no such thing as the LMM police) - I wanted to make clear I'm just spitballing some discussion here, not disagreeing with you lol.
I'm stating the obvious here, but assuming they aren't explicitly stated to be queer in some manner, I don't think it's possible to 'prove' whether a character is queer or not, because there's not really a one size fits all for the queer experience as you point out yourself. Historical periods, masculinity vs femininity, class, and I'd say personality itself could combine in a myriad of ways to result in a melting pot of wholly different outward presentations and experiences. Walter would have a different experience as an effeminate man than Anne has a gender-conforming woman. Feminine, engaged-to-be-married Anne and a more masculine loner Katherine do have very different narrative tones, especially considering how their stories mirror each other. On the flip side, it's also possible for someone to experience the typical to stereotypical markers of queer identity (ie passionate friendships with the opposite sex, less gender conforming) while being straight. This is where the shifting sands of personal interpretation make it impossible to get solid footing, lol. There's no mathematical formula for being gay. (what a humdinger of a sentence!)
From a literary perspective though, I can offer my sense of queer themes from the rest of LM Montgomery's stories beyond the Anne series. Holistically, LM Montgomery's body of work often has characters that experience friction with society's expectations or else defy society's expectations, and these include both men and women. We have the examples you mention of Walter and Katherine, and we also have Ilse and Emily from the Emily series. I would say, and you might disagree with this!, that being queer in the historical setting of LMM's novels almost necessitates this tension. LM Montgomery's novels gloss over many historical realities, but they still allow room--and in some cases, pointedly stress--the constrictions of societal expectations. The fact that this is present in so many other characters' arcs - Walter, Katherine, Emily, Ilse, Valancy (broadly), Cissy - including arcs specifically related to gender expectations - but not present in Anne's is why I don't read her as queer. The clash between who you were vs. who society expected you to be, no matter how conforming you were, would have to be difficult to carry. Anne, to my knowledge, never indicates that she struggles with societal expectations in the manner above. If anything, she seems to eagerly want to fulfill them, to the point that "Anne is just a married housewife now >:(" is a common critique of the later novels - one I s t r o n g l y disagree with, but one that exists.
If I were to remove the historical barriers and plop Anne into the 21st century, there's no tension to resolve, if that makes sense. Ilse suddenly can take flight; Walter no longer has to worry about being viewed as a sissy; Emily can write without being viewed as odd; Valancy could have greater autonomy; Cissy has a greater chance of flourishing, but Anne's story remains exactly the same. There's no discomfort or misalignment between her and the world to resolve. (However, this is also where her connection to Gilbert makes it impossible for me to fathom her dating someone else lmao.)
In the end, that's my own personal barometer! I think this is very much a YMMV sort of thing.
From an author's intent perspective, LMM definitely didn't intend it, although there are people out there arguing she was a repressed lesbian the entire time.
Okay, I’m just scooting in right here for one second, and do not wish to add to any confusion in the reblogs by reblogging too many times withoutttt really adding anything helpful, but I thought this was v interesting because as far as I have seen, the same individuals that argue that Maud was secretly a repressed lesbian (which I’ll be honest, I don’t care for – no one ought to be trying to basically argue with a real person’s own statements on their own sexuality) often make their chief points by highlighting journal entries where the language around Maud’s friendships is very similar to the language she uses in her books between friends. Whatever she is, it’s consistent lol.
But truly, I was trying to cite for you (and it was too big to leave in the comments), regarding your tags:
Journal entry, March 13, 1928: "The other day I noticed two young girls who called themselves 'friends' – and may be. I noticed the way they caressed and kissed each other--with mouths, by the way, which looked as if they had been making a meal of blood. A lip-stick is really a vampirish thing.”
More salty anti-flapper anti-makeup feelings than anything else imo, but a fiiine example of peak boomer Maud.
Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery, feat: photo of Evelyn Nesbit, of whom the author said: “I wonder if she ever read of Anne, never dreaming that, physically, she was the original!”
"I cannot bear it," she said. And then came the awful thought that perhaps she could bear it and that there might be years of this hideous suffering before her.
i'm 3000% certain this poll has been done before but I need to know:
A genie appears before you. You can pick one of the below to be made into the perfect film/tv series, down to every last detail you've ever wished for. Which one do you pick?
#rilla #tbh i think she'd SWEEP in every category during award season too #although i fear if it was to be done e-zackly to my particular taste or liking i'd be v tempted to spare walter and offer up jem instead #so maaaybe this genie better double it and give it to the next person Imao
@gogandmagog tags
I voted for TBC but I would like your version of ROI 😝
This is a very ugly topic, but what do you guys reckon Dick Moore did to/with this girl down at the fishing cove? 😟
Maud pretty much gives us this very purposefully vague and grey statement, which leaves each House of Dreams reader to supply/insert their own guess – but I’m super curious what that explanation is, for other readers here?
Did Dick drunkenly promise to marry this girl, in order to contrive a sexual relationship, only to change his mind when he sobered up the next morning? Did he break a real and proper engagement, preferring Leslie? Did he father a child with this girl, and refuse both her and to admit to paternity?
I’ve kind of seen before some suggestion that whatever happened between these two was non-consensual, but personally I’m not entirely sure. The incident, whatever it was, was apparently well known enough to become something of a ‘story’ to the community at large, but in the 1880s sexual assault was a highly punishable crime, especially in a clannish village like Four Winds. I find it further doubtful, based on the notion that it was Captain Jim, who ‘fairly scorched’ some fishermen for just talking badly about women*, who went looking to retrieve Dick from his lost Four Sisters voyage. I can’t think he’d have done so, if Dick was capable of sexual abuse or violence. 🧐 There’s also the bewildering matter of Leslie saying she didn’t regret marrying Dick, since it made her mum happy. But again, Dick is a jerk of such enormity that I could still probably be otherwise convinced. 🤷🏻♀️
*"You wouldn't find it so hard if you had seen him the other day down at the fishing village. One of the men of Peter Gautier's boat made a nasty remark about some girl along the shore. Captain Jim fairly scorched the wretched fellow with the lightning of his eyes. He seemed a man transformed. He didn't say much—but the way he said it! You'd have thought it would strip the flesh from the fellow's bones. I understand that Captain Jim will never allow a word against any woman to be said in his presence." (Anne’s House of Dreams, Chapter 9)
DANCING IN THIS WORLD ALONE literally my current obsession pleeeeeeeeeeease
hellooooo, thank you!! <3 absolutely, here u go:
"I think Susan would be just as upset that you didn't think her up to the task of baking you a cake," Carl says. "Una, too, for that matter. And a ration cake would still be miles better than trench food — I'd eat it up. Jerry and Jem and Shirley probably would, too."
"Jem and Shirley would eat anything," Rilla mutters, and Carl laughs. He's so laughy still, not like Jem or Shirley — not that Shirley was ever very laughy, anyway. Does Ken laugh as much as he used to, as well?