Anne of Green Gables Week: Defending Gilbert Blythe

Several months ago, during Sense and Sensibility week, I wrote a post defending Edward Ferrars.  Poor Edward has, in my experience, frequently suffered under the libelous label of "boring" in Austenite circles.  So I wrote a post defending him and pointing out all his good points and what I like about him, and I was Most Pleasantly Surprised to find that many of you are Ferrars Fans too.

Well, now I am going to write a post defending Gilbert Blythe.  My reasons are threefold.  Reason 1) Gilbert might not be labeled "boring" as poor Edward has been, but he is, sadly, often overlooked when we talk about our favorite literary heroes.  Jane Austen's heroes are overshadowing him too much.  (No offense to Austen or anything, and all that.)  Reason 2) It's Anne of Green Gables Week, and since I already posted about Anne, it makes perfect sense to write about Gilbert too.  Reason 3) Because "my reasons are threefold" sounds better than "my reasons are twofold".  I don't actually have a third reason.

I like to start my character posts by listing all the reasons why I like and dislike the character at hand, so that's what I'll do now.  The reasons I dislike Gilbert are as follows:

.....

Hang on.  I'm sure I can think of something.

*twenty-eight minutes later* Well, to be perfectly frank (and yes, Melody, I'm aware that my name is not Frank), Gilbert is rather rude when we first meet him.  *ducks rotten vegetables*  No, really, he is.  Y'all know what happens in the famous carrot-and-slate scene, so I won't rehash it for you.  But I will say that pulling a girl's hair and insulting her in a shout-whisper is NOT the way to her heart.  "I only said that because... well, because I wanted to meet you so much."  And then he was rude again at the Christmas ball.  Which is excusable, because after all he had apologized--multiple times--and Anne continued to be Hard-Hearted and Unforgiving.

Now that we've covered Gilbert's character flaws, let's get down to the good stuff--why he is just as much of a hero as any man created by Jane Austen.  Or Dickens.  Or Elizabeth Gaskell.  Or... dare I say it?... Baroness Orczy.

*hastily moves past what might be a dangerous subject*

Marilla Cuthbert, who is well-beloved by yours truly for frequently saying exactly the right thing, does an amazing job of summing up Gilbert's character to poor blind-as-a-bat Anne.  "Anne, you have tricked something out of that imagination of yours that you call romance. Have you forgotten how [Gilbert] gave up the Avonlea school for you so that you could stay here with me? He picked you up every day in his carriage so that you could study your courses together. Don't toss it away for some ridiculous ideal that doesn't exist."

Gilbert isn't particularly dashing.  He isn't thrillingly romantic-- in fact, he makes fun of Anne's sappy romanticism.  He doesn't buckle swashes.    He doesn't write swoon-inducing poetry or sit around mooning all the time.  (Whether he lets a girl get a word in edgewise is another matter entirely.)  He's a farmer who wears ugly overalls and teaches an unruly classroom of eight grades so that he can save to go to medical school.  He is also caring, compassionate, gentle, pleasant, funny, patient and super-duper loyal.

So why, then, do we so often gloss over him or forget him in the wake of such literary greats as Mr. Darcy, Sir Percy Blakeney or Mr. Knightley?  "Poor Gilbert," a very dear friend of mine once lamented. "He always seems to be replaced by some Jane Austen hero or other in our hearts as we get older."  Well, it's quite true-- but why?  Maybe it's because Gil himself is so unpretentious and down-to-earth.  "Wilt thou give up thy garter, oh fairest of the fair? Anne, nobody talks that way!"  If Anne--or anyone--asked him what he would think of being referred to as a hero, he would probably find it hilarious.


By the way, I happen to find Gilbert hilarious.  I appreciate a hero with a good sense of humor (something Mr. Darcy sadly lacks until near the end of the book). "Well, well, well. The elegant and illustrious Miss Shirley. Relaxed while seeking out ideas for her next Rollings Reliable writing assignment, I presume."  And of course no one can forget the classic Pitching and Mooning scene.  "And just look at that sap Percival who sits around mooning all the time... in real life, she'd have pitched him."  (This quote isn't complete without the little smirk that accompanies it.)

Silliness aside, the thing I admire most about Gilbert is his unfailing loyalty. And his patience.  Which are pretty much the same thing because they go hand-in-hand.  This sounds sappy and sentimental (though not quite as bad as wilt-thou-give-up-thy-garter) but I absolutely love how Gilbert loved Anne for so long before she realized it.  (And before she deserved it.)  "This is true  love.  Do you think this happens every day?"

She ignored him (even when he rescued her from death by drowning), was rude to him, finally forgave him but then insisted on being just friends and finally turned down his proposal... and yet he didn't let any of that get in the way.  He still stuck by her and stood up for her and never let her down.  "Well, I won't change... that's the least I can promise you."

Speaking of turning down proposals... look, peoples, I love Anne and all that, but I'm seriously quite willing to push her off Moody Spurgeon's kitchen roof when she tells Gil she won't marry him in The Sequel.  That scene is heartrending.  Now, granted, she tries to do it as gently as possible (and in all honesty, you wouldn't have wanted her to say yes to someone she didn't love--er, didn't realize she loved--would you?) but that doesn't change the fact that she broke his heart.  "Anne, I've loved you as long as I can remember. I need you. Please say yes..."

And out come the Kleenex. :)

Anne.  Seriously.  Get a grip, girl.

I should take this opportunity, while we're on the subject, to point out a very serious and grave error on the part of the Anne filmmakers.  In The Sequel, they changed the story around so that Gilbert proposed to Christine Stuart after Anne turned him down.  (insert facepalm) No, Sullivan Films.  No, no, no.  That never happened in the books, not even a hint of it.  Yes, Gilbert took Christine to a party or two (maybe to make Anne jealous, maybe not) but there was never any kind of romantic interest between them-- at least not on his part.  (Christine's reappearance in Anne of Ingleside leads me to believe there might have been a little on her side, but that's another story for another time.) "There would never be anyone for me but you."

Gilbert never proposed to Christine, anyway.  He waited for Anne... and waited... and waited...
And then, finally, he did the only thing he could think of: contracted typhoid and almost died.  To get her attention, you know. ;)

It worked.  Quite nicely, in fact. Anne came to her senses and realized that her "romantic ideal" had been pulling her out of mud puddles, crashing his bicycle into the creek and rescuing her from watery graves all along.  Right under her very nose.

"It'll be three years before I finish medical school," he tells her on the bridge at the end.  "Even then there won't be any diamond sunbursts or marble halls."
"I don't want diamond sunbursts, or marble halls," says Anne (while I grope for another tissue). "I just want... you."

What is a hero, anyway? A hero is a man who is compassionate, caring and kind.  A hero is unselfish and thinks of others before himself (sometimes going as far as giving up his life).  A hero is real and down-to-earth without being boring.  A hero is wonderful, and that's what Gilbert is.

And it sure took the illustrious Miss Shirley long enough to realize it.