Rilla of Ingleside marks the first time the outside world really intrudes on peaceful, idyllic Prince Edward Island.  When the novel opens, young Bertha Marilla Blythe – the youngest child of Gilbert and Anne Blythe, known to all as “Rilla” – is pondering impending womanhood.  What should she wear to an upcoming dance?  How will she get herself noticed by handsome Kenneth Ford?  And will she be able to keep herself from lisping if she does attract his attention?  These are Rilla’s worries.

But Rilla’s girlish stresses are soon chased out of the picture completely, by something much bigger: stormclouds of war, which have gathered over Europe and soon sweep Canada into the fray.  The Great War (or World War I, as we know it) is underway, and soon Four Winds and Glen St. Mary will be all but empty of their young menfolk.  Jem Blythe and Jerry Meredith are among the first to go, while Walter Blythe – disgusted by the horrors and atrocities of war – stays home for a time amidst growing criticism of his perceived “cowardice.”  (There’s a particularly sad scene in which Walter describes being given a white feather, which I didn’t remember at all.  I don’t think I knew the significance of the white feather when I read this book as a child; it was Maisy Dobbs in Birds of a Feather who explained that particularly cruel gesture.)  Of course, Walter does eventually go off to war too, like most of the youth of his time, and (hark! spoiler!) is killed in action, in the most tragic scene of the series, leaving Una Meredith to mourn all her days.

As all this goes on, Rilla is growing out of her self-centered, girlish ways, and into a more serious womanhood.  She brings a “war baby” home to Ingleside in a soup tureen – his father at the front, and his mother dead, little “Jims” has only Rilla to depend on.  Rilla determines to “bring Jims up by the book,” and embarks on a child-rearing adventure with as much rigidity and stress as any new mother.  She organizes a youth Red Cross, deals with a mean girl who seems determined to sabotage Rilla’s attempts to lead her band of volunteers, and wonders if Kenneth Ford will return home and, if he does, whether he’ll remember her.  (I won’t tell you that, nor will I tell you whether Rilla is able to keep her lisp out of any future conversations with the opposite sex.)

Rilla of Ingleside is one of my top four (four favorites out of an eight-book series isn’t too bad, right?) amongst the Anne novels.  I find it fascinating – horrifying, yes, but fascinating – to watch foreign policy and faraway events encroach steadily upon the peaceful little world of Ingleside and its surrounding areas.  I cry when Walter dies, and I cry even more when Little Dog Monday is reunited with his master after waiting faithfully at the depot and meeting every train with tail hopefully wagging.  I cheer for Rilla in her efforts to serve Canada on the home front, and for Faith Meredith, who drives an ambulance in faraway France.  And I mourn with Anne at the loss of her children’s safe, protected world.  This is a strong, often heart-wrenching, ultimately uplifting end to one of my all-time favorite series.

I’m submitting this review to the Classics Club Blog as part of my challenge to read and blog 100 classic books in five years.

Rilla of Ingleside, by L.M. Montgomery: buy the book here, or support your local indie bookstore.  (These are not affiliate links.)