Back to Top

Tag Archives: Austen

“I hope you received my little parcel by J. Bond on Wednesday evening, my dear Cassandra, and that you will be ready to hear from me again on Sunday, for I feel that I must write to you today. […] I want to tell you that I have got my own darling child from London.” – Jane Austen to her sister, Cassandra, Friday, January 29, 1813

My book is Pride and Prejudice, and it is a bit daunting to talk about Jane Austen’s “darling child,” and perhaps the darling child of most of her readers. For what percentage would readily admit that Pride and Prejudice is their favorite of the six novels? And in what context has the opening line, “”It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife,” not been paraphrased. If any book is part of the English-speaking world’s collective unconscious, Pride and Prejudice is it.

Shall I summarize it for you? Is it possible you don’t know about Elizabeth and Darcy’s prickly early encounters and gradual journey into love? Do you not know that Lydia eloped with George Wickham and that Darcy made him marry her? Haven’t you heard that despite Darcy’s early efforts, his friend Bingley returned to Hertfordshire to marry Jane? If you haven’t read the book, surely you have seen one of the many adaptations.

Pride and Prejudice is the iconic love story wrapped in a delicious comedy of manners. No one handles the English language like Jane Austen, and no one wields a sharper pen.


“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly — which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford — between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh’s foot-stool, that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you must marry. “

In my opinion, no funnier proposal has ever been written.

Contrary to Jane Austen’s satiric “Plan of a Novel,” wherein the angelic heroine and her long-winded father are harried from one European country to another by the anti-hero and a series of importunate lovers, the plan of Pride and Prejudice is practically a perfect paradigm for the modern romance:
1) Haughty, upper-class Hero enters the realm of the less exalted Heroine.
2) Hero and Heroine take an immediate dislike to one another.
3) Friends of Hero successfully detach him from the Heroine, but not before he has had second thoughts about her attractiveness.
4) Hero detaches friend from Heroine’s sister.
5) Hero girds his loins and proposes to Heroine, who still thinks he is an interfering snob and shoots him down.
6) Hero absorbs reproof and goes about reforming himself to be worthy of the woman he once thought it “a punishment” to dance with.
7) Heroine and Hero meet again, heroine has change of heart, but before she can make her feelings known,
8) Heroine’s foolish sister elopes with a scoundrel, later to be rescued (sort of) by Hero. Hero also restores detached suitor to Heroine’s sister.
9) The two meet again, Hero proposes, and they live happily ever after.

A good writer, can take that outline and deliver a delightful, modern Regency Romance. Some have and, I daresay, more will.

Although I would never classify Jane Austen as a romance writer, there is little doubt that she can write romance. And there is little doubt she has inspired several generations of romance writers. Jane Austen, and particularly Pride and Prejudice, is the reason I began to write Regency Romance. And the reason I continue to do so.

So, is this your favorite Jane Austen novel? Is it because of the romance? The humor? The sheer perfection of it? Is it, as Jane Austen said, tongue in cheek, too “light, bright and sparkling?” Is it the reason you read (or write) in the Regency?

Myretta Robens
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 23 Replies

Welcome to day two of Jane Austen week! In honor of Jane Austen’s upcoming birthday, we’re spending this whole week talking about her novels.

Today: Northanger Abbey!

I first read this novel in college. The only Austen I’d read before was Pride and Prejudice, and I’d found it wonderfully romantic. So I picked up Northanger Abbey one day. I was expecting an emotional, swoon-worthy, and delightfully short book. (I’ve always liked short books. Does that mean I’m lazy?)

The novel wasn’t quite what I was expecting. In fact, I was initially quite disappointed. I’d wanted a smart heroine (like Lizzy Bennet) and a powerful, yummy hero (such as Darcy).

Instead, I got a staggeringly naive heroine. And, sure, naive heroines (particularly young ones) may transform themselves into impressive women, but it seemed to me that would require strength and intelligence, or at least industriousness. Catherine had no great claim to any of the three. No, her best quality was that she was, you know, nice. Pleasant. Friendly.

Gullible.

Tilney was a bit more attractive to my eighteen-year-old reading self, once I figured out that pretty much everything he said was a joke. But Austen refused to let me get romantic about Tilney, no matter how much I wanted to. Instead, she kept pointing out that one of the reasons he was falling for Catherine was that she quoted his opinions on art back to him:

…though to the larger and more trifling part of the [male] sex, imbecility in females is a great enhancement of their personal charms, there is a portion of them too reasonable and too well informed themselves to desire any thing more in woman than ignorance.

…she soon began to see beauty in every thing admired by him, and her attention was so earnest, that he became perfectly satisfied of her having a great deal of natural taste.

And that wasn’t what I was looking for in a guy, either in literature or real life.

And yet, when The Official Risky Decision was made to blog about Austen’s novels this week, my hand went up with an “oh, can I have Northanger Abbey, please please please?”

It’s definitely one of my three favorite Austens (along with P&P and Persuasion.) And I’m pretty sure I lean toward it more than the average Austen fan.

So…what changed? Why do I love it now, when I was so disappointed at the outset?

I think one of the reasons is that I (extensively) revised my expectations. I no longer pick up the novel to have a wonderful romantic adventure, or admire a heroine or swoon over a hero.

I love the humor. The bright, sparkling, silly fun of the first half of the book is just great comedy. John Thorpe, always boasting… Isabella, so transparent in how she chases men… Mrs. Allen, who wishes she had some acquaintance in Bath… Mr. Tilney, who knows to what use ladies put nine-shillings-a-yard muslin.

And, really, what a lovely existence, in that first half of the book! The worst problems are rain and a bit of boredom, but Mrs. Radcliffe can always cure that. We have country dances and country walks, carriages and cravats, flirtation and quizzes — and no work at all. Ah, yes — that’s the life I want. (Does that mean I’m lazy?)

I confess, I don’t care for the second half of the book nearly as well. Sunshiny, dynamic Bath turns into dark, dreary Northanger Abbey, and most of the comic characters are gone. Tilney lectures Catherine a lot, and the ending is one of Austen’s “I’ll tell you what happened, but I won’t give it to you in a scene” resolutions, like in Mansfield Park, which I always find less than satisfying.

But for me, nothing can equal the first half of the book. I want to be in Bath with the Tilneys and Thorpes and Allens, reading Gothic novels with Catherine and promenading in the Pump Room, with the comic spirit of Sheridan and the Eighteenth Century wits infusing everyone around me.

So…how about you? What do you think of Northanger Abbey?

(And remember, on Tuesday, January 1, we’re going to discuss the BBC TV adaptation of Northanger Abbey — so be sure to stop by!)

Cara
Cara King, author of My Lady Gamester, the story of a heroine who is so industrious that she makes me want to take a nap…then again, you all know how lazy I am…

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 20 Replies

This is very belatedly in a response to a question someone asked when I or Jane Lockwood was guest blogging (and before I forget, you can enter Pam Rosenthal’s contest to win a copy of Jane’s book Forbidden Shores–the dirty one with the bodiceripper cover). The question was, who would I invite to dinner if I could have anyone from any time?

Great question, and it opens up all sorts of possibilities. As far as real people go, I’d like to invite Brummell, Byron, and Jane Austen, and watch her have fun with them both, possibly aided and abetted by Harriet Wilson. I think I’d serve shish kebabs… definitely something on skewers, to be followed by raspberries.

If you open it up to fictional characters, you could have a lot of fun mixing and matching characters–the Miss Dashwoods meet Toad of Toad Hall, for instance. The Bennett sisters enjoy rat pie and chips with the Watch of Ank-Morporkh, while one of Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler’s sausages has a profound effect (but not the usual one) on Proust. Sir Walter Elliot and Mr. Micawber dine (on food bought on credit, cooked and served by servants who haven’t been paid in months) and discuss matters of economy.

What do you think? Who would you invite to your literary (or otherwise) feast, and what sort of food and drink would you serve? Which characters would you like to mix and match for a dinner party?

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 4 Replies

Welcome to the Jane Austen Movie Club, where like-minded people get together (virtually, if not always virtuously) to chat about, cheer for, or chastise a different Jane Austen movie or television adaptation on the first Tuesday of every month. Newcomers always welcome!

This month: the 2005 feature film of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE! Also known as:

(1) the one with Keira Knightley;

(2) the one with Matthew however-he-spells-his-last-name- oh-I-love-that-brooding-picture-of-him;

(3) the one with, you know, the, um, pig;

(4) the most-ranted-about Austen pic since Rozema’s MANSFIELD PARK…

(Yes, I know we talked about this P&P when it came out, but that was SO long ago!) 🙂

To make discussion easier, here are some names to help jog memories:

CAST LIST:

Keira Knightley — Elizabeth Bennet

Rosamund Pike — Jane Bennet

Talulah Riley — Mary Bennet

Jena Malone — Lydia Bennet

Carey Mulligan — Kitty Bennet

Donald Sutherland — Mr. Bennet

Brenda Blethyn — Mrs. Bennet

Claudie Blakley — Charlotte Lucas

Sylvester Morand — Sir William Lucas

Simon Woods — Mr. Bingley

Kelly Reilly — Caroline Bingley

Matthew Macfadyen — Mr. Darcy

Rupert Friend — Mr. Wickham

Tom Hollander — Mr. Collins

Judi Dench — Lady Catherine de Bourgh

Rosamund Stephen — Miss de Bourgh

Penelope Wilton — Mrs. Gardiner

Peter Wight — Mr. Gardiner

The DIRECTOR is JOE WRIGHT, who also directed the upcoming film “Atonement” (also starring Knightley), plus a TV miniseries about Charles II (starring Rufus Sewell — wish I’d seen that!)

DEBORAH MOGGACH is the SCREENWRITER, and as far as I can tell it was her first screenplay for a feature (she has multiple television credits, including the 2002 version of “Love in a Cold Climate,” in which Rosamund Pike [Jane Bennet] co-starred.)

In the past, I’ve often put some questions here to help start the discussion, but somehow I suspect that there is absolutely no need for them this time. 🙂

So, what do you think?

Casting, costumes, screenplay, anachronisms, scenery, houses, bonnets, gloves, hair, accessibility, humor, etc?

Let the discussion begin!

Next month, we’ll be discussing the BBC NORTHANGER ABBEY from 1986!

Cara
Cara King, author of My Lady Gamester and frequent hat wearer

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 32 Replies

Or, if Jane Austen wrote Star Trek…

As had happened before, Mr. Data attempted to amuse his fellow officers on the bridge with what he took to be a well-timed joke.

And, as had also happened before, and too many times to count (unless one has a positronic brain), Commander Riker grinned in a way which seemed to say, he was not so much amused by Mr. Data’s wit, as he was by his epigrammatic clumsiness.

“I see what you think of me,” Data told Riker gravely–“I shall make but a poor figure in your log to-morrow. I know exactly what you will say: Commander’s Log, Star Date 47457.1; Mr. Data embarked upon another jocular assay, to little effect.”

“Indeed I shall say no such thing.”

“My dear sir,” said Data, “I am not so ignorant of the ways of human beings as you wish to believe me; it is the human habit of recording such unimportant and clearly biased information in Starfleet logs which accounts for the easy style of speaking for which your species are so generally celebrated.”

Mr. Riker shrugged his shoulders with a modest grin. “I should not think the superiority was always on our side.”

“As far as I have had the opportunity of judging, Mr. Riker, it appears to me that your own style of speech is faultless, except in three areas.”

“And what are they?”

“A general deficiency of subject, a total inattention to sense, and a very frequent ignorance of grammar.”

“Upon my word! I need not have been afraid of disclaiming the compliment. You do not think too highly of me in that way. Very well, now that you are in a mood to tell me my flaws, do not hold yourself back: how do you feel about my appearance?” And his grin seemed to say that, whatever faults Mr. Data might find in his speech, in the matter of comeliness, even the most emotionless android must concede William Riker’s superiority.

“It is very clear to me,” said Data, gravely examining Mr. Riker’s face, upon which a beard had abruptly appeared the day before, “that I am but a poor judge of such quintessentially human matters. Else I might declare that your chin resembles nothing so much as a well-used breeding ground for tribbles.”

For earlier installments of Austen Trek (which NBC would have cancelled after season two, had they known of it), just click on the link below which says “austen trek”…

And be sure to join us next Tuesday, December 4, when our Jane Austen Movie Club discusses the most recent version of Pride and Prejudice, a.k.a. the one with Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen.

Cara
Cara King, who finds Data’s inability to use contractions to be as baffling as Catherine Tilney’s complete cluelessness

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | 10 Replies