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    Kilmeny of the Orchard: "The fact is, I've fallen into the hands of the Philistines."
    Kilmeny of the Orchard: "The fact is, I've fallen into the hands of the Philistines."
    Kilmeny of the Orchard: "The fact is, I've fallen into the hands of the Philistines."
    Ebook150 pages2 hours

    Kilmeny of the Orchard: "The fact is, I've fallen into the hands of the Philistines."

    By L. M. Montgomery

    3.5/5

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    Lucy Maud Montgomery was born in Clifton, Prince Edward Island, Canada, on November 30, 1874. Her mother died when she was a toddler and her devastated father asked her grandparents to raise her. Her childhood years in Cavendish were very lonely. Lucy’s solution at this early age was to create imaginary worlds and people them with imaginary friends. Her creativity was beginning to establish itself in her life. With her studying days over Lucy began a career as a teacher and worked at various Prince Edward Island schools. It was soon obvious to her that she did not enjoy teaching but the benefit was that it gave her time to write. That was now her real passion. Much of her early career was spent writing short stories. Indeed in the decade from 1897 magazines and newspapers published over 100 stories from the prolific young writer. In 1908, Lucy published her first book, the classic, Anne of Green Gables. It was an immediate success and quickly established her career. During her lifetime, Lucy published 20 novels, 530 short stories, 500 poems, and 30 essays. Aware of her fame, by 1920 Lucy began editing and recopying her journals, reframing her life as she wanted it remembered. Lucy Maud Montgomery died on April 24, 1942 in Toronto. A note was found beside her bed, "I have lost my mind by spells and I do not dare think what I may do in those spells. May God forgive me and I hope everyone else will forgive me even if they cannot understand. My position is too awful to endure and nobody realizes it. What an end to a life in which I tried always to do my best." The official cause of death was a coronary thrombosis.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCopyright Group
    Release dateApr 25, 2016
    ISBN9781785437809
    Kilmeny of the Orchard: "The fact is, I've fallen into the hands of the Philistines."
    Author

    L. M. Montgomery

    Lucy Maud Montgomery was born on Prince Edward Island, Canada, in 1874 and raised by her maternal grandparents following her mother's death when she was just two years old. Biographical accounts of her upbringing suggest a strict and rather lonely childhood. She later spent a number of years working as a teacher before turning to journalism and then, ultimately to fiction writing. While Anne of Green Gables was completed in 1905 Montgomery was at first unable to find a publisher for it and - having set it aside for a while - eventually found a champion for it in the Page Company of Boston. Her first novel - and the one which was to prove by far her most successful - was published in 1908 and has remained in print the world over ever since. In creating the uniquely memorable Anne, Montgomery gave the world of classic fiction one of its most enduring heroines.

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    Reviews for Kilmeny of the Orchard

    3.5/5

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    • 4/5
      To help out a friend who has fallen ill, 24 year old Eric takes a job teaching in the sleepy little town of Lindsay. One day he encounters the most beautiful girl he has every seen playing the violin in an old orchard. Her name is Kilmeny Gordon, and she has been unable to speak since birth. As Eric and Kilmeny fall in love, Eric sets out to learn the secrets of her past and make Kilmeny his wife...

      This short novella (It's less than 200 pages) was written by L.M Montgomery in 1910. I read it for the first time in 5th grade, when I was devouring everything the author of Anne of Green Gables had ever written. Re-reading it as an adult, I can say that unlike most of Mongomery's works, Kilmeny is definitely a book that shows it's age, not just in the flowery language and various archetypal characters, but also, and unfortunately by the blatant racism shown in the depiction of the novel's villain, an Italian boy born who was raised by Kilmeny's aunt and uncle.
      If you can overlook that, it's a short, sweet and quick read, if nothing amazingly profound or memorable. (Except for the climatic scene at the end)
    • 3/5
      Published in 1910, Kilmeny of the Orchard was L.M. Montgomery's third novel, following upon her beloved children's classic Anne of Green Gables (1908), and its first sequel, Anne of Avonlea (1909). A thoroughly romantic tale, it owes more - in both style and narrative content - to the sentimental novels of the late nineteenth-century, than any of her other works. The tale of Eric Marshall - a wealthy young college graduate who takes a teaching position on Prince Edward Island to oblige a friend, and who falls deeply in love with a beautiful mute girl named Kilmeny Gordon - it follows a fairly standard formula, in which the obstacles to marital bliss are overcome in dramatic and unlikely ways, and the unworthy disappear conveniently from the scene.Beautifully written as it is - and I find it quite an enjoyable book on many levels - Kilmeny of the Orchard is a somewhat problematic text for me, owing to Montgomery's apparent eugenist leanings, manifest in frequent references to the importance of bloodline, and of racial and/or ethnic heritage. Surfacing early on in the story, when Eric discusses issues of heredity with his cousin David Baker, it is a theme most fully explored in the character of Neil Gordon - the Gordon's adopted Italian son. Confronting Neil at one point, Eric thinks: "He was working himself up into a fury again - the untamed fury of the Italian peasant thwarted in his heart's desire. It overrode all the restraint of his training and environment."As much as this unfortunate belief in innate ethnic and national qualities was the product of its time and place, so too was the insistence on the heroine's spotless virtue and complete unworldly innocence. Kilmeny - whose unsurpassed beauty seems to be one of her chief virtues - is described as a child, until Eric's kiss makes her a woman. She is trusting and naive, obedient and utterly passive. Her one moment of self-assertion, which the narrative paints as an act of "selfless love," owes much to a belief in her own unworthiness - that her disability is a "defect."Although Montgomery's casual and oblique references to a eugenist world-view, and chauvinist insistence on passive beauty in a romantic heroine, did prevent me from taking Kilmeny of the Orchard entirely to heart, they did not ruin the book completely. There is still much here to enjoy, from the author's lyrical passages concerning the beauties of Prince Edward Island, to her well-drawn cast of eccentric secondary characters. It is an engaging story, and reads quickly. Unfortunately, it is also somewhat dated, and has none of the transcendence of her greater works.
    • 3/5
      Readable victorian romance.
    • 4/5
      another deliteful LM Montgomery read - this one definitely quick at 134 pages! started it at the dr's waiting for my appointment and completed by afternoon.
      the typical heartwarming human interest story set in the Prince Edward Island community of Lindsay. it begins with Eric Marshall graduation with future planned for family business, circumvented by a friend's request to fill in for just one final month of schoolteaching... a greater plan at work for Eric's future and that of other island residents that include mystery and romance with some serious resistance that needs to be over ruled.
    • 2/5
      Kilmeny of the Orchard is the shortest of Montgomery's novels, and I would assert that it was the hardest to read through. Most of the characters were dull, including the main character, despite the interesting change to a focus on a male character rather than a female. He spends so much of his time enraptured by the silent Kilmeny (who, for a third of the book, he has only seen from afar) that he becomes dull to read. Kilmeny's story is interesting, however, as are the turns of plot that lead to the predicament in which her life is begun. Everyone else in the story baffles and few of the characters seem to be natural human beings.
    • 4/5
      This novella has at the heart of its conflict an emotional trauma and while there are hints at other obstacles, unlike more modern romantic stories, the path of this love story is not tainted by distrust or misunderstandings. This isn't my favorite story - there's no humor and some unpleasant attitudes towards "foreigners". But there are some moments of sweetness too.
    • 4/5
      Eric Marshall, the son of a wealthy businessman is asked shortly after graduation by a Queenslea College colleague to teach in his place at a school located in Prince Edward Island (Canada) Under the pressure of high expectations by his father he decides to take the temporary diversion and enjoy his limited carefree days. He begins to settle into island life and finds much needed peace.
      Soon after he meets Kilmeny Gordon, a sweet young, vibrant and talented girl. Her somewhat turbulent past and odd family relations keep her a secret and a hidden treasure of the town. Eric is enchanted and even after discovering she is mute he is determined to win her love.

      The newly enhanced cover by Vintage Reader Collection instantly caught my eye. It is simply beautiful and captures the dreamy quality of Kilmeny perfectly. The story reads like a enchanting fairytale. The setting is vivdly projected and the love story endearing. Not having read any of the Anne of Green Gables series yet this has encouraged me to do so soon. A wonderful Canadian author!
    • 3/5
      Very sweet - a bit too sweet for me. Love at first sight, though it is supported by spending a good deal of time together before they realize/admit their love. Huge, overwhelming, terrible obstacles that just fade away or are very conveniently (or magically) dealt with. And poor Neil - even aside from the author's conviction that his Italian blood controlled his attitude and behavior more than his PEI upbringing. Anne came as an orphan and became family; Neil was born there and never became family. Not worth rereading.
    • 3/5
      This one didn’t live up to the memory I had of reading it as a tween. It was an early book of L.M.M.’s; boy takes over teaching position for sick friend, boy hears beautiful violin playing from an orchard, boy falls rump over teakettle in love with violinist, and is dismayed to find she is a fiercely protected mute girl who has hardly been out of her house since she was small. From then on it is a pitched battle as the hero seeks a way to make Kilmeny whole, and his. In this one the … I don’t want to say racism; perhaps ethnocentricity is a kinder word, or xenophobia… comes out more strongly than in most. It’s a slender book, sweet (as always), and wrapped up a little too neatly (as always) – and without the depth of charm that carries off any faults in the other books.
    • 1/5
      This is the story of a substitute teacher at a rural school in Prince Edward Island who meets and falls in love with a mute girl. Other than her dumbness, Kilmeny is perfection itself, unbelievably beautiful (even the hands that help her aunt with 1910 rural housework), incredibly musically talented, and intelligent.GAH! Beauty makes one desirable, Europeans are lower-class, happy, happy, happy endings are guaranteed. Gag me.1 star for the descriptions of PEI because as the author says: Prince Edward Island in the month of June is such a thing as you don’t often see except in happy dreams. I might add that June in Nova Scotia plays out much the same.Read this if: you like sappy romances and are willing to suspend disbelief for both characters and plot; or you feel you must read everything by Lucy Maud Montgomery. (I chose this simply because the title filled the “K” requirement – amazingly difficult to come by – for my A-Z Double Whammy Reading Challenge.)
    • 2/5
      My first read on my Nook! It's fitting that I should plunge into the world of technological books with a title penned long before anyone had dreamed of electronic reading devices. Kilmeny of the Orchard, published in 1910, is a short little novella by L. M. Montgomery, whose depictions of life on Prince Edward Island around the turn of the nineteenth century are poignant, humorous, and beloved by generations of readers. Unfortunately, this story encapsulates all of Montgomery's flaws with very little of her usual insight into human nature. There is a marked ethnocentrism, doubtless natural to her characters and to herself, that cannot but be a little unsettling to a modern reader. And to add to that, Montgomery indulges in long descriptions of her characters' perfect physical beauty and spotless morals. They have not the spice of imperfection and original sin which enlivens and humanizes Montgomery's later creations. There is something sweet about the story, of course — a young man filling in at a remote country school stumbles upon a beautiful young woman in an orchard, mute but for her exquisite violin. Eric Marshall naturally falls in love with Kilmeny Gordon and eventually proposes marriage, but she rejects him because of the burden of her muteness. Nothing, it seems, is really wrong with her voice except a strange repression she inherited from her mother, which can only be cured by some sudden emotional shock... The plot really is a bit forced, and the general sense of is one of contrivance and convenience, with the happy ending hastily procured. Kilmeny of the Orchard is an early work, coming just after Montgomery's first two Anne books. I believe the elements I found objectionable later lost force in her developing imagination and hardly figure at all in her best-loved novels. I try not to judge authors by standards quite foreign to their times and this review is not based on my distaste for any smack of racist thought. Rather, this low rating is for the predictability and oversweetness of the story itself — problems that Montgomery herself no doubt saw and corrected in the novels that followed. She had to learn her art somehow, and if this was her process of trial and error, I can easily endure it for the sake of her other stories, which are among my most beloved books. Still, Kilmeny is best read only by completists; Montgomery has left far superior work to represent her in literature.
    • 3/5
      Kilmeny of the Orchard by L.M. Montgomery is a short, overly sweet love story about a young man who falls in love with a mute girl. This girl is Kilmeny, a great beauty but who never learned to speak. Due to the shortness of the book, the characters are never fully developed although we are told many times that the young man is rich and handsome whereas Kilmeny is described as perfection itself (although I found her to be rather naive and boring). They appear to fall in love with each other based solely on looks which makes the whole story seem shallow.To my mind the most interesting character in the story was Neil. He was abandoned as a baby by Italian tinkers and raised along with Kilmeny by her aunt and uncle. He is also in love with her and takes it very badly when she falls in love with the young school master. He is treated much like a hired hand by the people who raised him and they also consider him having ideas above his station when they learn of his feelings for Kilmeny. I felt very sorry for this boy who grew up always being treated as a low class foreigner. I found the whole “disabled girl who is able to miraculously speak perfectly when she needs to” very far-fetched. Unfortunately Kilmeny of the Orchard has neither the charm nor the humor of the Anne books to help the reader accept the improbable plot. This is one book that should have simply stayed up on the shelf.

    Book preview

    Kilmeny of the Orchard - L. M. Montgomery

    Kilmeny of the Orchard by Lucy Maud Montgomery

    Lucy Maud Montgomery was born in Clifton, Prince Edward Island, Canada, on November 30, 1874.  Her mother died when she was a toddler and her devastated father asked her grandparents to raise her.

    Her childhood years in Cavendish were very lonely. Lucy’s solution at this early age was to create imaginary worlds and people them with imaginary friends.  Her creativity was beginning to establish itself in her life.

    With her studying days over Lucy began a career as a teacher and worked at various Prince Edward Island schools. It was soon obvious to her that she did not enjoy teaching but the benefit was that it gave her time to write. That was now her real passion.

    Much of her early career was spent writing short stories. Indeed in the decade from 1897 magazines and newspapers published over 100 stories from the prolific young writer.

    In 1908, Lucy published her first book, the classic, Anne of Green Gables. It was an immediate success and quickly established her career.

    During her lifetime, Lucy published 20 novels, 530 short stories, 500 poems, and 30 essays. Aware of her fame, by 1920 Lucy began editing and recopying her journals, reframing her life as she wanted it remembered. 

    Lucy Maud Montgomery died on April 24, 1942 in Toronto. A note was found beside her bed, I have lost my mind by spells and I do not dare think what I may do in those spells. May God forgive me and I hope everyone else will forgive me even if they cannot understand. My position is too awful to endure and nobody realizes it. What an end to a life in which I tried always to do my best.

    The official cause of death was a coronary thrombosis.

    Index of Contents

    CHAPTER I - THE THOUGHTS OF YOUTH                                   

    CHAPTER II - A LETTER OF DESTINY                                    

    CHAPTER III - THE MASTER OF LINDSAY SCHOOL                           

    CHAPTER IV - A TEA TABLE CONVERSATION                               

    CHAPTER V - A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT                                   

    CHAPTER VI - THE STORY OF KILMENY                                   

    CHAPTER VII - A ROSE OF WOMANHOOD                                    

    CHAPTER VIII - AT THE GATE OF EDEN                                   

    CHAPTER IX - THE STRAIGHT SIMPLICITY OF EVE                        

    CHAPTER X - A TROUBLING OF THE WATERS                            

    CHAPTER XI - A LOVER AND HIS LASS                                  

    CHAPTER XII - A PRISONER OF LOVE                                    

    CHAPTER XIII - A SWEETER WOMAN NE'ER DREW BREATH                     

    CHAPTER XIV - IN HER SELFLESS MOOD                                  

    CHAPTER XV - AN OLD, UNHAPPY, FAR-OFF THING                       

    CHAPTER XVI - DAVID BAKER'S OPINION                                 

    CHAPTER XVII - A BROKEN FETTER                                       

    CHAPTER XVIII - NEIL GORDON SOLVES HIS OWN PROBLEM                    

    CHAPTER XIX - VICTOR FROM VANQUISHED ISSUES                         

    LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY – A SHORT BIOGRAPHY

    LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY – A CONCISE BIBLIOGRAPHY

    CHAPTER I

    THE THOUGHTS OF YOUTH

    The sunshine of a day in early spring, honey pale and honey sweet, was showering over the red brick buildings of Queenslea College and the grounds about them, throwing through the bare, budding maples and elms, delicate, evasive etchings of gold and brown on the paths, and coaxing into life the daffodils that were peering greenly and perkily up under the windows of the co-eds' dressing-room.

    A young April wind, as fresh and sweet as if it had been blowing over the fields of memory instead of through dingy streets, was purring in the tree-tops and whipping the loose tendrils of the ivy network which covered the front of the main building. It was a wind that sang of many things, but what it sang to each listener was only what was in that listener's heart. To the college students who had just been capped and diplomad by Old Charlie, the grave president of Queenslea, in the presence of an admiring throng of parents and sisters, sweethearts and friends, it sang, perchance, of glad hope and shining success and high achievement. It sang of the dreams of youth that may never be quite fulfilled, but are well worth the dreaming for all that. God help the man who has never known such dreams—who, as he leaves his alma mater, is not already rich in aerial castles, the proprietor of many a spacious estate in Spain. He has missed his birthright.

    The crowd streamed out of the entrance hall and scattered over the campus, fraying off into the many streets beyond. Eric Marshall and David Baker walked away together. The former had graduated in Arts that day at the head of his class; the latter had come to see the graduation, nearly bursting with pride in Eric's success.

    Between these two was an old and tried and enduring friendship, although David was ten years older than Eric, as the mere tale of years go, and a hundred years older in knowledge of the struggles and difficulties of life which age a man far more quickly and effectually than the passing of time.

    Physically the two men bore no resemblance to one another, although they were second cousins. Eric Marshall, tall, broad-shouldered, sinewy, walking with a free, easy stride, which was somehow suggestive of reserve strength and power, was one of those men regarding whom less-favoured mortals are tempted seriously to wonder why all the gifts of fortune should be showered on one individual. He was not only clever and good to look upon, but he possessed that indefinable charm of personality which is quite independent of physical beauty or mental ability. He had steady, grayish-blue eyes, dark chestnut hair with a glint of gold in its waves when the sunlight struck it, and a chin that gave the world assurance of a chin. He was a rich man's son, with a clean young manhood behind him and splendid prospects before him. He was considered a practical sort of fellow, utterly guiltless of romantic dreams and visions of any sort.

    I am afraid Eric Marshall will never do one quixotic thing, said a Queenslea professor, who had a habit of uttering rather mysterious epigrams, but if he ever does it will supply the one thing lacking in him.

    David Baker was a short, stocky fellow with an ugly, irregular, charming face; his eyes were brown and keen and secretive; his mouth had a comical twist which became sarcastic, or teasing, or winning, as he willed. His voice was generally as soft and musical as a woman's; but some few who had seen David Baker righteously angry and heard the tones which then issued from his lips were in no hurry to have the experience repeated.

    He was a doctor—a specialist in troubles of the throat and voice—and he was beginning to have a national reputation. He was on the staff of the Queenslea Medical College and it was whispered that before long he would be called to fill an important vacancy at McGill.

    He had won his way to success through difficulties and drawbacks which would have daunted most men. In the year Eric was born David Baker was an errand boy in the big department store of Marshall & Company. Thirteen years later he graduated with high honours from Queenslea Medical College. Mr. Marshall had given him all the help which David's sturdy pride could be induced to accept, and now he insisted on sending the young man abroad for a post-graduate course in London and Germany. David had eventually repaid every cent Mr. Marshall had expended on him; but he never ceased to cherish a passionate gratitude to the kind and generous man; and he loved that man's son with a love surpassing that of brothers.

    He had followed Eric's college course with keen, watchful interest. It was his wish that Eric should take up the study of law or medicine now that he was through Arts; and he was greatly disappointed that Eric should have finally made up his mind to go into business with his father.

    It's a clean waste of your talents, he grumbled, as they walked home from the college. You'd win fame and distinction in law—that glib tongue of yours was meant for a lawyer and it is sheer flying in the face of Providence to devote it to commercial uses—a flat crossing of the purposes of destiny. Where is your ambition, man?

    In the right place, answered Eric, with his ready laugh. It is not your kind, perhaps, but there is room and need for all kinds in this lusty young country of ours. Yes, I am going into the business. In the first place, it has been father's cherished desire ever since I was born, and it would hurt him pretty badly if I backed out now. He wished me to take an Arts course because he believed that every man should have as liberal an education as he can afford to get, but now that I have had it he wants me in the firm.

    He wouldn't oppose you if he thought you really wanted to go in for something else.

    Not he. But I don't really want to—that's the point, David, man. You hate a business life so much yourself that you can't get it into your blessed noddle that another man might like it. There are many lawyers in the world—too many, perhaps—but there are never too many good honest men of business, ready to do clean big things for the betterment of humanity and the upbuilding of their country, to plan great enterprises and carry them through with brain and courage, to manage and control, to aim high and strike one's aim. There, I'm waxing eloquent, so I'd better stop. But ambition, man! Why, I'm full of it—it's bubbling in every pore of me. I mean to make the department store of Marshall & Company famous from ocean to ocean. Father started in life as a poor boy from a Nova Scotian farm. He has built up a business that has a provincial reputation. I mean to carry it on. In five years it shall have a maritime reputation, in ten, a Canadian. I want to make the firm of Marshall & Company stand for something big in the commercial interests of Canada. Isn't that as honourable an ambition as trying to make black seem white in a court of law, or discovering some new disease with a harrowing name to torment poor creatures who might otherwise die peacefully in blissful ignorance of what ailed them?

    When you begin to make poor jokes it is time to stop arguing with you, said David, with a shrug of his fat shoulders. Go your own gait and dree your own weird. I'd as soon expect success in trying to storm the citadel single-handed as in trying to turn you from any course about which you had once made up your mind. Whew, this street takes it out of a fellow! What could have possessed our ancestors to run a town up the side of a hill? I'm not so slim and active as I was on my graduation day ten years ago. By the way, what a lot of co-eds were in your class—twenty, if I counted right. When I graduated there were only two ladies in our class and they were the pioneers of their sex at Queenslea. They were well past their first youth, very grim and angular and serious; and they could never have been on speaking terms with a mirror in their best days. But mark you, they were excellent females—oh, very excellent. Times have changed with a vengeance, judging from the line-up of co-eds to-day. There was one girl there who can't be a day over eighteen—and she looked as if she were made out of gold and roseleaves and dewdrops.

    The oracle speaks in poetry, laughed Eric. That was Florence Percival, who led the class in mathematics, as I'm a living man. By many she is considered the beauty of her class. I can't say that such is my opinion. I don't greatly care for that blonde, babyish style of loveliness—I prefer Agnes Campion. Did you notice her—the tall, dark girl with the ropes of hair and a sort of crimson, velvety bloom on her face, who took honours in philosophy?

    I did notice her, said David emphatically, darting a keen side glance at his friend. I noticed her most particularly and critically—for someone whispered her name behind me and coupled it with the exceedingly interesting information that Miss Campion was supposed to be the future Mrs. Eric Marshall. Whereupon I stared at her with all my eyes.

    There is no truth in that report, said Eric in a tone of annoyance. Agnes and I are the best of friends and nothing more. I like and admire her more than any woman I know; but if the future Mrs. Eric Marshall exists in the flesh I haven't met her yet. I haven't even started out to look for her—and don't intend to for some years to come. I have something else to think of, he concluded, in a tone of contempt, for which anyone might have known he would be punished sometime

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