Back to Top

Author Archives: Myretta

About Myretta

Myretta is a founder and current manager of The Republic of Pemberley, a major Jane Austen destination on the web. She is also a writer of Historical Romance. You can find her at her website, www.myrettarobens.com and on Twitter @Myretta.

Andrew Davies, who has successfully adapted Sense & Sensibility, Pride & Prejudice, Emma, and Northanger Abbey, has stated that he will never adapt Mansfield Park. And who can blame him? There have been three adaptations of Mansfield Park and none of them really succeed.

In 1983, the BBC produced a miniseries adaptation.

This Fanny Price, in my opinion, is a pretty fair adaptation of the one in the novel.  And I do like Nicholas Farrell as Edmund. Unfortunately, the whole thing tends to be a tad soporific.  Watch this one if you are suffering from insomnia.

In 1999, Patricia Rozema tried her hand at Mansfield Park

This is an interesting movie, but so not Mansfield Park. The director admitted to creating a new Fanny, one whom she insists includes elements of Jane Austen. Rozema’s Fanny is a writer if that’s what she means. Most of the rest seems to be solely a construct of Ms. Rozema’s imagination. What this adaptation has going for it (in my opinion, anyway) is Jonny Lee Miller as Edmund.  I’ll pretty much watch anything with JLM in it.

Most recently, ITV produced an adaptation, televised in 2007.

I’m a huge Jane Austen fan but I must admit to not watching this adaptation in its entirety. I have no idea who this Fanny Price is, giggling and running around Mansfield Park with her hair down.   This not my Fanny Price and I’m pretty sure it’s not Jane Austen’s either.

What’s so hard about adapting Fanny? Here’s what I think. Fanny Price is the strong, moral center of this book, but she doesn’t have much of a character arc. The Fanny Price who finally wins and marries the man she loves is pretty much the Fanny Price who came to Mansfield Park as a child. The other characters change around her or not (*ahem* Mrs. Norris), but Fanny remains stalwart and true.

What do you think? Is there a way to adapt Fanny without changing her? Do you have a favorite adaptation?  Want to take a stab at one?

valentine_1790

Valentine from 1790

Yes.  I’m a day late, but such are vagaries of group blogging. Today, however, I am once again dipping into my handy Hone’s Every-Day Book.

According to Hone, “Two hundred thousand letters beyond the usual daily average, annually pass through the twopenny post-office in London on St. Valentine’s Day.”  St. Valentine was apparently a popular guy even in early 19th century England.

What was in these letters?  Hone provides us with a nice variety of Valentine sentiment.  How about this one?

Haste, friendly Saint! to my relief,
My heart is stol’n help! Stop the thief!
My rifled breast I sear’d with care,
And found Eliza luking there.

Away she started from my view,
Yet may be caught, if thou pursue;
Nor need I to describe her strive
The fairest, dearest maid alive!

Seize her — yet treat the nymph divine
With gentle usage, Valentine!
Then, tell her, she, for what was done
Must bring my heart and give her own

valentine-1816

Hand made Valentine 1816

Hone goes on to give us several more verses from the time and states that “St. Valentine is the lover’s saint: Not that lovers have more superstition than other people, but their imaginings are more. As it is fabled that Orpheus ‘played so well, he moved old Nick;’ so it is true that Love, ‘cruel tyrant,’ moves the veriest brute. Its influence renders the coarsest nature somewhat interesting.”

How lucky for us that lovers have more imaginings than other people and that Love, cruel tyrant that it may be, renders the coarsest nature somewhat interesting.  I hope your Valentine got his missive in the twopenny post in time.

I have a fun book from Royal Collection Publications called For the Royal Table, Dining at the Palace.  I wouldn’t actually classify this as a research book, as it skims through the history of entertaining by England’s monarchs with a focus on Elizabeth II.  No index to speak of, but lots of great pictures and some fun tidbits from dinners held by past monarchs.

For example, in discussing glassware, it mentions that

Glassware ordered by George IV - 1808

Glassware ordered by George IV – 1808

In 1802 Frederick, Duke of York (second son of George III) ordered a complete glass service for a dessert course from the chandelier manufacturers Hancock, Shepherd & Rixon.  This was intended for a banquet to entertain Tsar Alexander I of Russia.  It was not only a service of drinking glasses; it included elaborate candelabra, known as lustres, and dessert stands for displaying fruit.  Glass was considered an elegant alternative to porcelain for showing off the dessert course.

Carême in the kitchen - Brighton Pavilion

Carême in the kitchen – Brighton Pavilion

Antonin Carême, the only French chef to work for the royal family,  is well represented.  Although Carême remained in England only six months, he was busy.

He invented dishes such as Pike à la Régence – a pike stuffed with quenelles of smelt and crayfish butter, and dressed with truffles, crayfish tails, sole fillets and bacon and garnished with truffles, slices of eel, mushrooms, crayfish tails, oysters, smelts, carp roes and tongues and 10 garnished skewers of sole, crayfish and truffles.  Just a light lunch for Prinny.

Banqueting Table - George IV Coronation

Banqueting Table – George IV Coronation

Carême was also big on food as decoration.  He decorated the table with structures resembling architectural follies and ruins, using any material available – from icing sugar and confectioner’s paste to cardboard, wood, glass, silk, sugar, powdered marble, way and coloured butter.  Not something you’d want for dessert.

He was around long enough to produce an over-the-top banqueting table for George IV’s coronation.

The accounts for the decoration of the banqueting table… include a detailed carpenters bill for a large ornamental temple for the table with eight reeded columns and four circular pedestals for figures at the angles, with four entablatures over to support a dome.  The wooden structure would have been decorated with sugar and marzipan and further edible items. Indeed, after the King had left the banqueting table, the guests destroyed all the edible parts of the decoration in their desire to keep a souvenir of the event.

And speaking of desserts, they weren’t too puny before Carême arrive. Newspapers described the the dessert course of a banquet held for George III at Windsor thus:

The ornamental parts of the confectionery were numerous and splendid. There were temples four feet high, in with the different stories were sweetmeats. The various orders of architecture were also done with inimitable taste… the dessert comprehended all the hothouse was competent to afford — and, indeed, more than it was thought art could produce at this time of year.  There were a profusion of pine[apples], strawberries of every denomination, peaches, nectarines, apricots, cherries of each kind, from the Kentish to the Morella, plus and raspberries with the best and richest preserved fruits, as well as those that are in syrup.

Voila!  Dessert!  Sort of makes your strawberry shortcake look pretty paltry, doesn’t it?

This is a fun book with interesting tidbits, but not something you absolutely need in your reference library.  Heaven knows why I have it.

What would you recommend for food references for our period?

There were different classes of inns in the 18th century and they

A Country Inn by Rowlandson

A Country Inn by Rowlandson

made quite strong distinctions between the patrons they would admit.

In Travellers in 18th Century EnglandRosamond Bayne-Powell writes:

The traveller had his choice of inns but must select them with care. There were first, the grand establishments, the Posting Houses, which entertained the quality who travelled in their own carriages or in post-chaises. They might accommodate riding gentlemen if these were duly accompanied by their servants. Some of these inns accepted passengers from the mail coach, some did not; but they never stooped so low as to take in the common stage passenger. Those low people had to go to the inns which catered for them ; but they had the satisfaction of knowing that there were others of a still inferior order.The passenger in the wagon, the walker on foot, was seldom admitted or, if he were, was pushed into the kitchen and fed upon remains.

This “class system” in regard to inns caused confusion among foreign visitors to England, who were unaware that arriving on foot might bar them entry.

Pastor Karl Philip Moritz in his book Travels in England  (1782) was very upset by the assumption that if he arrived on foot at an inn he was a man of no consequence, and was, accordingly, shabbily treated. He arrived at an inn at Windsor on foot and was appalled by the reception given:

As I entered the inn and desired to have something to eat, the countenance of the waiter soon gave me to understand that I should thee find no very friendly reception. Whatever I got they seemed to give me with such an air as showed how little they thought of me, and as if they considered me but a beggar. I must do them justice to own however, that they suffered me to pay like a gentleman.  No doubt this was the first time that this pert , bepowdered puppy had ever been called upon to wait on a poor devil who entered their place on foot/

Moritz asked for a room and was shown one, as he remarked, that resembled a “prison for malefactors.” When he asked for a better one, he was told they had no room for such guests as he and it was suggested he go back to Slough. He decided to accept the room, which may have been a mistake, as it cost him 9 shillings to stay the night ,despite having to share the room with drunken old man who got into bed wearing his boots. Note that it was not uncommon for guests to be asked to share rooms at all classes of inns throughout the 18th century.

Pierre Jean Grosley in his book,  A Tour to London or, New Observations on England, And its inhabitants (1772), wrote of how when staying at an inn in London he was woken at 3 a.m. in order that another guest could share his room and bed.

Moritz did get good service at the Mitre in Oxford, even though the arrived on foot, but this was probably because he was introduced to the inn’s staff by an Oxford clergyman who vouched for him.

According to Bayne-Powell, the lowest class of inn was the hedge-inn. These places took in as guests those who arrived on foot and wagon passengers. They charged between 9 pence – 1 shilling for bed and supper. Compare this with the extortionate charges poor Karl Mortiz paid at the Posting House at Windsor.

Until the end of the 18th century, the better type of inns did not have common dining rooms. A guest at this type of inn would normally have had the choice of hiring a private sitting room, if there was one to be had, or dining with the landlord and his family in their dining room, or even in the kitchen.

George_Goodwin_Kilburne_Checking_the_billHowever, at the end of the 18th century common dining rooms, or as they were known “coffee rooms” were introduced at the posting houses. In these common dining rooms it became customary to serve a set meal which became known as an “ordinary.”

The whole thing makes the modern Day’s Inn look pretty darned good.  Where would you like to stay when you travel and how would you arrive?

Posted in History, Research | 2 Replies

Having nearly forgotten my day for blogging, I have turned once again to Hone’s The Every-Day Book. Quite a bit of January 11 is devoted to card-playing. Hone tells us that

regency_deck_kingThis diversion resorted to at visitings during the twelve days of Christmas, as of ancient custom, continues without abatement during the prolongation of friendly meetings at this season.  Persons who are opposed to this recreation from religious scruples, do not seem to distinguish between its use and abuse.

He goes on to say that Cards are not here introduced with a view of seducing parents to rear their sons as gamblers and blacklegs or their daughters to a life of scandal, an old age of cards, but to impress upon them the importance of not morosely refusing to participate in that the archdeacon refers to as of the ‘harmless mirth and innocent amusements of society.’

In Pride & Prejudice, Mrs. Philips’s evening party includes cards and even gambling. Mrs. Philips keeps a genteel, middle class home, so the gambling in this case probably did not involve money, but it was gambling nonetheless.

gaming-fish

Gaming Fish

The fish Lydia is talking about refers to gaming tokens, frequently made of mother of pearl and not uncommonly used in card games.

Fortunately for us, some of these young men and women were seduced into being blacklegs and scandalous ladies. Where would our stories be without them?  On the other hand, we’re equally entertained by the  ‘harmless mirth and innocent amusements of society.’ It all depends on the plot.

Do you prefer the scandalous ladies and gambling gentleman or are you partial to those indulging in innocent amusement? Or perhaps both?