Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
There was a time in my young life that I probably knew Disney's version of Pollyanna line-for-line. I-kid-you-not. As the granddaughter of much older grandparents, Pollyanna is universally-grandparent approved. It was watched frequently at their house, along with Shirley Temple and Little House on the Prairie.
While I will always cherish the Disney movie and my memories surrounding it, the book tried my patience at times. In the movie, Pollyanna is more of a tomboy and sneaks away from her aunt for a good cause. In the book, she is annoying goody-goody. She is the perfect, unrealistic, angel child. I don't care if your parents were missionaries, you're going to get in trouble sometimes! She is like the anti-Anne of Green Gables and Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. Pollyanna would totally tattle-tell on them.
I probably could have got passed the perfectness if the story hadn't taken a creepy turn. In the movie, the creepy old man who lives alone in the woods adopts Jimmy Bean. And notice, there's never a scene where Pollyanna is alone with the old man. Well, in the book, the creepy old man wants to adopt Pollyanna. Why, you ask? Because the creepy old man was madly in love with Pollyanna's mother and now he wants to raise Pollyanna. But Pollyanna has Aunt Polly, right, her relative? Creepy old man doesn't care.
Maybe in 1913 it was sweet that your mom's old recluse boyfriend wants to adopt you...in 2013 it was just creepy, I couldn't get over it.
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