Anne with an 'E', and the beauty of love and goodness
- Janet Wi
- Oct 10, 2020
- 4 min read
Updated: Oct 30, 2020

There are few shows that choose to focus on a small family in a small town, who all love each other and are all trying their darndest to be their best selves. (Somehow, I've also described Gravity Falls, so I guess it's clear that I gravitate to certain types of media.)
But the latest interpretation of Lucy Maud Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, created by Moira Walley-Beckett, does just that.
Anne with an 'E' begins precisely as the book does: Aging brother and sister, Matthew (R.H. Thomson) and Marilla Cuthbert (Geraldine James), send for a young orphan boy to help them around the farm. Much to Matthew's surprise, when he makes it to Avonlea's train station, it is not a young boy who is waiting for him—it's a plucky, 12-year-old orphan girl who introduces herself as "Anne with an 'e'" (Amybeth McNulty).
Unwilling to leave the girl alone at the station, Matthew takes her with him, and on their ride back home, finds himself enamored with the fast-talking, wide-eyed young girl. When she arrives at Green Gables, Marilla is at first dismissive and suspicious. What good can a young girl be on a farm?
Marilla initially makes up her mind to take Anne back to the orphanage, but like most everyone else she meets on her journey, Anne eventually charms the old couple and worms her way into their hearts.
As the series continues, it evolves into an exploration of the many facets of love, following Anne as she navigates life with the first family she's ever known. Anne with an 'E' spends much of its time developing its eponymous heroine into a progressive, driven young woman with imaginative, romantic ideals who can rarely take 'no' for answer—a trait that consistently gets her (and the people she loves) into spots of trouble.

Among my favorite relationships the story explores (and really, I have so many that I think it might take another blog post altogether) is that of Anne and her bosom friend Diana (Dalila Bela). Their love for each other is deep and intimate—frequently crossing the boundary of intimacy and intensity usually reserved for romantic relationships. Their friendship showcases the potency of connection and steadfast devotion that can be felt between girls, wrapped in saccharine promises of eternity. It is their commitment to one another that allows them to rely on the other and, when the time comes, forgive the other.
This is perhaps one of the themes that most endeared me to the show: The series often explores the power of seeking for forgiveness and giving it. We are imperfect beings. Despite our best intentions, we go through our lives and we hurt the people we care about. But it is never too late to seek forgiveness and never to late to grant grace to the humbled person at our door in Avonlea.
Nearly every character on the show apologizes to another at some point. The apologies are nearly always profound and touching, to the point where it gave me a second of pause. Why is this one of the few TV shows in existence that makes its characters go through these rounds of development? Why is the power of apology and the power of forgiveness so undervalued that the media we consume rarely acknowledges it?

The stories within Green Gables all rests on the belief that we, as people, are capable of change. We watch as the town members begin reluctant to even let a little red-headed orphan join their community to inviting a home of Black land-owners with open arms. It all begins with Anne, who has been through immeasurable hardship, but still somehow holds on to an intrepid optimism that acts as the driving force behind everything she does. She is the first real outsider to reside within Avonlea, and the first to question the insulated closed-mindedness of its residents.
It's a show with a heart so expansive, I could barely believe mine could contain it by the end of the third season. It's a show that believes in the profound good of each of its characters, even the most despicable.
The series's staunch focus on the small community of Avonlea is a triumph, and it proves that the scope and stake of story need not be so large for it to be impactful. Creator Walley-Beckett's insistence to stay true to the characters and their development showcases Anne with an 'E' as a show about redemption and tolerance—a message even more profound during a time when it's so easy to believe the worst in people.
It reminds us we can inspire change through humility and compassion. It reminds us that we are all deserving of love and respect. And what greater message can there be than that?
Disclaimer: For anyone inspired to watch Anne with an 'E' after reading this, season two is a bit of a drag, and my least favorite of the series. If you can make it to season three, you will be rewarded with rich character development and heartwarming moments that left me squealing. The (regrettably) final season is where the show creators fully stepped into their own, found their voice, and let it ring.
Anne with an 'E' truly feels so singular in that it remains grounded in reality and grounded in its characters. There's been no other show in recent memory that's felt quite so small and quite so affectionate to the tiny world it inhabits.
Go watch this beautiful thing and #saveannewithane.
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