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Monthly Archives: December 2008

I can’t remember my first.

What an embarrassing confession. I know that I had my massive teenage Heyer binge after I read Austen, which must have been for high school, because I remember telling my English teacher that Heyer was just like Austen. Hmmm. But I can’t remember which book it was, although I remember earlier listening to girls complain about having to read P&P and it was so boring. Ha. The rest of us were blessed with Silas Marner, chosen, I’m convinced, because it was the shortest George Eliot–that it’s also complex and difficult apparently wasn’t a problem for a bunch of teenage girls who were really only interested in John, George, Paul and/or Ringo.

I remember watching something on a black and white TV with terrible reception and realizing, despite the blizzard onscreen, that it was the BBC Persuasion (the one from long ago) because I recognized the words. But I really fell in love with Austen after college, when I lived in Bath, and found that you could retrace Ann and Wentworth’s steps through the city.

And she’s been pretty much a constant in my life ever since. Every time I reread one of her books I find something that relates to where I am at that time–falling in love, falling out of love, married, unmarried, being a parent, growing older. Her novels offer consolation, inspiration, and a challenge. I admire Austen’s toughness, her unflinching clarity on family relationships.

Here’s a great poem by Kathe Pollitt, Rereading Jane Austen’s Novels, which I borrowed from a collection of Austen-inspired poems at pemberley.com. It’s bleak and biased, and not altogether accurate–Lizzie Bennett thinks nothing of a five mile hike (in the mud)–but I hope you’ll like it.

This time round, they didn’t seem so comic.
Mama is foolish, dim or dead. Papa’s
a sort of genial, pampered lunatic.
No one thinks of anything but class.

Talk about rural idiocy! Imagine
a life of teas with Mrs. and Miss Bates,
of fancywork and Mr. Elton’s sermons!
No wonder lively girls get into states —

No school! no friends! A man might dash to town
just to have his hair cut in the fashion,
while she can’t walk five miles on her own.
Past twenty, she conceives a modest crush on

some local stuffed shirt in a riding cloak
who’s twice her age and maybe half as bright.
At least he’s got some land and gets a joke —
but will her jokes survive the wedding night?

The happy end ends all. Beneath the blotter
the author slides her page, and shakes her head,
and goes to supper — Sunday’s joint warmed over,
followed by whist, and family prayers, and bed.

And remember, this week we’re holding a contest for Austen’s birthday–so comment often and early!

Like many romances, my passion for Jane Austen had a rough beginning. From third grade or so, I’d been reading my mother’s Georgette Heyer novels and selected traditional Regencies, so you might think I was prepared for Jane, but it didn’t actually work out that way. I read PRIDE & PREJUDICE sometime around age 11 or so after having seen “in the tradition of Jane Austen” on many Regency covers. But I found it hard going.

Perhaps as a pre-teen, I was more able to appreciate the glitz of Regencies featuring members of the haut ton and including exciting events such as duels and elopements. Maybe I needed to mature to properly appreciate Austen’s brilliant characterizations and what she could do with “three or four families in a country village.”

But I also think the period language itself was a stumbling block, between the occasional long, convoluted sentence structures and some of the vocabulary. Of course, I’d already learned many new words from Georgette Heyer, yet with Jane they mattered more. I realized why this past summer, when I read P&P with my own 11 year old. In Heyer’s books, context could help one understand the longer words (e.g. the “diaphanous gown” or the “ubiquitous footman”). However, in Jane Austen, the difficult words are often central to the meaning.

Consider this bit of Darcy dialogue:

“When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself — and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or any one else?”

To make sense of it for my daughter, I had to explain “panegyric”, “laudable” and “precipitance”. I also found it helped when I read to her aloud with loads of expression.

But she hung in there with me, enjoyed it very much and laughed in all the right places. Now we’re planning some Austen activities over the holidays. We’re going to watch the 1995 P&P together and start reading NORTHANGER ABBEY. I am now looking forward to years of shared Austen obsession. I expect she’ll soon want a Regency gown of her own. : )

Has anyone else tried introducing Jane Austen to friends, family or offspring? How did it work out? Have you ever tried reading Jane aloud?

Comment for a chance to win assorted Austen-related prizes!

Elena
www.elenagreene.com

Happy Birthday, Jane Austen!!!!

This week, we’re supposed to be talking about our first Austen…but I’ve done that before here at Risky Regencies, so I thought I’d thrown in a little twist…and tell you what my first (and later) reactions were to my first several Austen novels and movie adaptations…

The first time I read PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, I was thirteen, and I utterly loved it. (That part has never changed, though I do understand certain parts better now.)

I believe the first Jane Austen movie I ever saw was the Greer Garson/Laurence Olivier PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, when I was a teenager. I liked it well enough, and for a while it even messed with my own memories of the book, leaving me with a vague belief that the book involved a lot of archery, and that Lady Catherine wasn’t all that bad in the end… 🙂 (When rewatching this at various times years later, I think I most admired Olivier’s interpretation of a shy Darcy.)

The second Austen adaptation I saw was the Rintoul/Garvie PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, also when I was a teenager. I liked it all right, but it didn’t excite me, and I definitely thought it inferior to the book. (The second time I saw it, I loved it. The third time, I was less enchanted, but really loved Garvie.)

Then, freshman year in college, I read NORTHANGER ABBEY. I was initially disappointed that it wasn’t more like PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, and wished there were more romance, and less satire. I really didn’t care for the implication that Tilney liked Catherine better for being ignorant! (I have loved this book more and more on each rereading…perhaps because I now read it for humor, while picturing Bath, and I ignore what I don’t like.)

Then I saw the 1986 BBC NORTHANGER ABBEY, and hated it! I thought Peter Firth was creepy, and the overemphasis on the Gothic bits just silly. I’ve always thought those were the weakest parts of the novel, so the idea to make them even more prominent just seemed wrong to me! (The second and third time I saw it, years later, I think I admired the costumes and Bath scenery more…but Firth and the Gothic bits have always seemed wrong to me.)

Next, I read SENSE AND SENSIBILITY, and was annoyed at how Marianne just ran on and on, and how Brandon didn’t have the sense to fall in love with Elinor. (This has remained my least favorite Austen…and I confess I’m always surprised when I run into anyone who puts this in their top two! I just see major weaknesses in it…)

So…those were my first impressions (and later reactions) to my first three Austen novels, and first three Austen adaptations. How about yours? Have your opinions on some of your early Austens (novels or adaptations) changed? Or have re-readings or re-viewings just confirmed you in your tastes?

All answers welcome!

Cara
Cara King, who hopes you all show up the first Tuesday in January to discuss the first Gruffudd Hornblower adaptation!!!


Pin-up model Bettie Page died today; in the course of her career, Page was photographed approximately 20,000 times, mostly in lingerie, often in bondage, sometimes with other women.

What I like best about those photographs is the ineffable sense of fun she seems to be having, even while getting spanked or whatever; she’s got this joyous gleam in her eye that is just captivating.

People can, will and have argued about whether photographs like the ones Page was featured in exploit women (and I’m not certain how I feel), but there’s no denying that she was a star. And that her figure–spectacular and special as it is–is that of a normal woman.

The two primary things I take away from viewing Page’s image is what I like to imbue into my heroines (and wish I had more of myself), no matter what the time period: Be comfortable and adult about sensual feelings and impulses, and be comfortable with your body, even if it’s not perfect.

I can’t explain why I–and millions of others–have been captivated by Page’s image, but it’s there, and maybe the freedom felt in her pin-up shots hold a clue to the allure.

So–in that free spirit–what do you love most about yourself, either looks-wise, personality-wise or something else? As usual, I feel the need to overshare and answer first:

I love my eyes.
I am fond of my small waist.
And I like to think I can usually find the snarky spin of any situation. Which makes me and others laugh.

What about you?

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