A sweet and moving romance from the author of the beloved Anne of Green Gables series!
Eric Marshall, recent college graduate, has the world at his feet. He’s handsome, popular, wealthy, and surprisingly, single. Living the bachelor lifestyle with his widowed father, he’s never given much thought to romance. When an old school friend asks Eric to substitute teach for him on Prince Edward Island while he recuperates from an illness, Eric thinks, why not? He’s got some time to kill before diving into the family business with his father, and the rustic island may be a good diversion for him.
Eric falls into the easy routine of island life, and his status as eligible bachelor endears him to the locals. Eric is still not thinking of romance, but he’s about to find it in a most unexpected place…
Kilmeny Gordon is sweet and smart and beautiful, perfect in every way but one: she can’t speak. She’s been sheltered all her life due to her disability and the scandal surrounding her birth. She wiles away her hours helping her aunt and uncle on the farm and playing her violin in her favorite secluded spot. When Eric stumbles into her hidden orchard, he brings a whole new world with him, and a friendship that both frightens her and thrills her. As the summer days grow longer and their friendship blossoms, sweet, silent Kilmeny, with her sunny enthusiasm and haunting music, manages to do what neither the co-eds of Queenslea College nor the village lasses of Lindsay have been able to do—capture Eric’s heart.
But Kilmeny knows he’ll soon have to go back to his life on the mainland, a world of business meetings and parties and prejudicial people—a world in which she’ll hold him back and never fit in. None of that matters to Eric, but how can he get her to accept that she’s the only woman he’ll ever love, when she is convinced that the only way to love him is to let him go?
And a shorter synopsis from Audible:
Twenty-four-year-old Eric Marshall arrives on Prince Edward Island to become a substitute schoolmaster, even though he has a bright future in his wealthy family’s business. Eric has taken the two-month teaching post only as a favor to a friend – but fate throws in his path a beautiful, mysterious girl named Kilmeny Gordon. With jet black hair and sea blue eyes, Kilmeny immediately captures Eric’s heart. But Kilmeny cannot speak, and Eric is concerned for and bewitched by this shy, sensitive mute girl. For the first time in his life, he must work hard for something he wants badly. And there is nothing he wants more than for Kilmeny to return his love.
After coming to the Anne of Green Gables series only several years ago, I’ve been on a (somewhat haphazard) mission to read L. M. Montgomery’s novels. Looking back at my reading history, after reading the Anne series and Emily trilogy, I see that I’ve read one of her stand-alones in each of the past few years… and that brings me to Kilmeny of the Orchard.
Kilmeny of the Orchard wasn’t on my radar, but I stumbled across it thanks to a Kindle deals promo, and decided to give it a try. Kilmeny is the 3rd novel published by L. M. Montgomery, released after the first two Anne books — which would make it her first novel published about adult characters. Kilmeny has the lovely descriptions and clever character depictions so prevalent in the author’s works, but the story itself feels somewhat underbaked and clichéd, definitely not on the level of her “greatest hits”.
Kilmeny of the Orchard‘s main character is not Kilmeny herself, but rather, Eric Marshall, a recent college graduate and son of a wealthy businessman, who has the world at his feet. Before joining his father’s company and starting his career, he receives a letter from a friend who’s ill, asking Eric to take over his teaching job in the small village of Lindsay as a favor to him, just until the end of his contract. Eric has no other immediate plans, and decides to do it.
He finds Lindsay welcoming, with an assortment of oddball characters (including his talkative landlord, who seems more devoted to his cat than to his wife), and the area is beautiful, if not particularly exciting. As Eric uses his free time to wander and explore, he stumbles across a ramshackle old orchard, and within it, a beautiful young woman playing the violin. As he approaches her, she runs away. Eric is immediately intrigued and sets out to learn more about her.
The young woman is Kilmeny, the niece of the Gordons, a brother and sister who’ve raised her since her mother’s death. The Gordons keep strictly to themselves, and Kilmeny has never ventured beyond their home except for her isolated violin playing in the orchard. Kilmeny is mute, and the Gordons feel it is in her best interest to protect her and shield her from the outside world.
But Eric is irresistibly drawn to Kilmeny, and seeks her out in the orchard. She’s able to communicate by writing on a slate, and soon, they develop a friendship through which Eric introduces her to books, poetry, and ideas that are new to the sheltered young woman. Wanting to know more, he finally gets the full story from his landlords, and learns more about Kilmeny and her mother’s tragic past.
Kilmeny of the Orchard is a short book and a quick audiobook listen, and much of the language is beautiful, especially the descriptions of the landscapes and the orchard itself. Still, there are many elements that are off-putting for a modern reader/listener. Yes, reading older books requires us to keep in mind the attitudes and beliefs of the era in which they were written, but that doesn’t mean that certain concepts won’t be unpleasant to encounter.
Chief among these is the depiction of Kilmeny’s “defect”, as Eric and others refer to it. Kilmeny is described as “dumb”, which I know was an acceptable word for being mute, but still feels pretty awful to hear over and over and over again. They’re quick to assert that despite being dumb, her other faculties are fine, but there’s a base-level assumption that her muteness is something that damages her as a whole and reduces her value. In fact, her muteness is the one and only reason why Kilmeny refuses Eric’s proposal of marriage, despite being in love with him: She’s sure that her “defect” would make her a detriment to him as a wife.
The Gordons never take Kilmeny to a doctor at any point in her life, first because her mother won’t allow it, and after her death, because they firmly believe there’s nothing to be done. Why? Because… it’s clearly the sins of the mother being visited on the child, that’s why. Kilmeny’s muteness is a punishment, and so obviously, doctors can’t possibly fix it.
The Gordons have also raised a young man named Neal, whom they took in after a passing peddler’s wife gave birth on their farm. The couple abandoned the baby and the Gordons raised him, giving him their last name, but never their love. He’s Italian, you see, and no one will ever overlook his birth and consider him part of the family or the community. Despite being raised there since birth, Neal is treated as an outsider and looked upon with suspicion. His Italian heritage is pretty much always mentioned when he’s referred to, and he’s always described with negative terms, such as sullen, wild, shrill — we’re clearly meant to distrust him from the start. It’s awful stereotyping (“the untamed fury of the Italian peasant thwarted in his heart’s desire”), and plays out in completely expected ways.
Finally, the sexist slant of the story drove me batty. The fact that the title character of the book is not in fact the main character, but rather the main character’s object of desire kind of says it all. This book is certainly told through the male gaze! Kilmeny is described as exquisite, but childlike. It’s only Eric’s interest and his introducing her to concepts of love — through the stories and poems he reads her — that turn her into a woman. Perhaps intended as romantic, but certainly otherwise in the modern context, there’s a kiss described as “involuntary”… which, enough said. Kilmeny is Eric’s mission — he’s there to save her and change her. Clearly, he knows best, and he’s the driving force behind any developments in Kilmeny’s limited world. Save me from male saviors!
Kilmeny of the Orchard is a much simpler story than many of L. M. Montgomery’s later books, and it’s interesting to see this early work in contrast to the many wonderful novels that I’ve loved so much. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it for its own sake, but for completists who want to read all of LMM’s works and track the development of her writing and storytelling style, it’s worth checking out.
Meanwhile, I have a few more books by this author yet to explore! Next up for me — probably later this year — will be two more books on my shelves, Pat of Silver Bush and Mistress Pat. These were both published in the 1930s, and I’m eager to see how they compare to the L. M. Montgomery books that I’ve loved.
Bookshelf Fantasies 