Happy Janesgiving!

Guess what, everybody? It’s pre-Thanksgiving, Austenacious-style! Action Jane is at the head of the table, awaiting her eggs and onions; don’t you see the glow of the twinkle lights (or maybe that’s just, you know, the Internet)? Afterwards, we’ll have alcohol-spiked cream. But first, let’s go around the table and say what we’re thankful for! I’ll start.

I’m thankful for Emma Woodhouse, who is a lovely girl and a bull in a china shop, all at once, in the way that people are.

I’m thankful for Jane and Mr. Bingley, who are always pleasant and forebearing, and never get anything done.

I’m thankful for Mary Crawford, who is neither a heroine nor a villain, but is interesting nonetheless.

I’m thankful for Anne Elliot, who proves that sometimes we find love with handsome sea captains even after the advanced age of twenty-seven.

I’m thankful for Mr. Knightley, who can be a little judgmental, but is mostly a really good guy.

I’m thankful for Elinor Dashwood, who keeps it together until the very end, and for Marianne Dashwood, who keeps it together almost never.

I’m thankful for pianofortes, for necklaces given in friendship/schemery, for trips to the strawberry patches, and for treacherous walks on the seawall.

I’m thankful for Mr. Collins, and Mr. Rushworth, who love expensive staircases and wear pink.

I’m MOST thankful for you—yes, you, specifically—who share your thoughts, and your humor, and your reading time with us on an astonishingly regular basis. Truly, you guys are the best.

So, Austen Nation, what are YOU thankful for?

 

 

(In other news, Austenacious is taking Thanksgiving week off. See you after the turkey settles!)

Jane on the Money

So, it seems that our dear Jane Austen might be turning up as the face of the new British ten-pound note.

I love this because, although I’m sure the guy who comes up with these things was probably just thinking, “Hey, there’s a British person with ladyish bits; let’s put her on a tenner,” anybody who’s read any Austen knows that Jane felt some feelings about money. It’s everywhere in the novels: Bingley has five thousand a year, and Darcy has ten thousand, and it’s the first thing we know about either of them; the Dashwoods are suddenly impoverished, and there begins the story; Fanny Price is suddenly un-impoverished, and there begins the story; Emma Woodhouse is “handsome, clever, and rich.” A debate-team captain of average skill could probably convince me, without undue effort, that the Austen canon is as much about finances as it is about love and respect between equals.

Jane herself was a gentleman’s daughter—not necessarily champagne wishes and caviar dreams, but enough. But being ON money? Like, printed there to (apparently) represent the female gender to the entirety of her own United Kingdom?* Along with the Queen? I’m pretty sure she couldn’t even have imagined. And THAT—the fact that it makes so much sense to us—makes me really, really happy.

I hope they choose a flattering picture, anyway, because: PRIORITIES.

 

*My favorite part is actually this: “‘[Governor Sir Mervyn King’s] comments followed fears that the imminent removal of social reformer Elizabeth Fry from the £5 note would mean there were none in circulation featuring women – other than the standard image of the Queen’s head.” A country that worries about gender representation on its currency! HOW NOVEL, she says, side-eyeing the Sacagawea dollar, which only ever comes from public-transit change machines.

Jane and Joss-udice

This is the part where the rogue spear comes through the window.

So I was watching the end of The Lizzie Bennet Diaries last week, and I was thinking about adaptation—as you do—and I came up with one very simple principle: We can never allow Joss Whedon to adapt Pride and Prejudice.

I want to be clear: I love me some Joss. It’s not that. Buffy, Firefly/Serenity, Dr. Horrible, whatever. I’m in. It’s just that I can’t allow any of Jane’s characters to end up in Joss Heaven.

You see, there is a tiny room in heaven that I like to believe is reserved for the fictional characters created and then killed by Joss Whedon. If you’ve seen his work, you know what I mean: it’s the nicest, most patient, and most loving characters who tend to die, nearly always unexpectedly and in gruesome fashion. In my mind, these fictional darlings—Tara, Wash (WAAAAAASH!), Felicia Day in Dr. Horrible—spend fictional eternity together, being nice and noble and agreeing about things. And it’s pleasant! But it’s always, always too soon. And in the Jane Austen canon, I can think of exactly two characters clearly destined for Joss Heaven:

Jane Bennet

Mr. Bingley

That’s it. Just the two of them. (Other Austen characters tend in that direction, but I think the Bingleys-to-be are the height of it.) It happens just as Bingley’s approaching Longbourne to propose, too, so that neither of them will ever know the happiness that was approaching, and readers’ hearts are pierced at the moment of peak fullness. (Don’t you think so? I think so. Yes, this is definitely how it happens.)

And so you see, readers, that we must be vigilant. We must protect these sweet characters from shocking moments of impalement, which are sure to come even in a canon-compliant adaptation. (I don’t know how. But I DON’T TRUST HIM.) Save the future Bingleys!

See you in Joss Heaven.

 

 

 

Grrr, Argggh! Emma, Chapters 6–10

Hey, Emma fans! Did you get through Emma’s snobbery and manipulative jerkiness, part 1? Good job! I really do hate this part of the book. . . That’s why we’re a little behind posting, but I’ll try to make up lost time.

Chapters 6–10, Scheming: Emma decides Harriet should marry Mr. Elton and not Robert Martin. So she makes Harriet fall in love will Mr. Elton and reject Mr. Martin, and she convinces herself that Mr. Elton loves Harriet.

OK, let’s cut to the chase. Emma, WTF are you doing to Harriet? Why do you make her reject this guy that she really seems to like? Emma seems diabolical here—Machiavellian, evil. It is so off-putting that I spend a lot of time finding excuses for her behavior.

• It’s interesting, I think, that Miss Woodhouse could never visit Mrs. Robert Martin. Snobby and weird to us, but everyone agrees about that. Mr. Knightley, everyone. So it’d be sort of like convincing one of your friends that she shouldn’t take a job 3,000 miles away. Your friend kind of likes it there, but also likes it here. You don’t have many friends and you’d be lonely without her. You also think you can get her a better job here. This is selfish of you, sure. But more understandable than convincing her not to take a job 3 miles away.
• It would be less evil if Emma just said these things. But Emma isn’t really a straightforward person. And Harriet really is pretty clueless! So Emma gives us a lesson in Machiavellian tactics and misdirection. There’s no excuse for that.
• Also interesting that Mr. Knightley thinks Mr. Martin is Emma’s inferior in society just as much as Emma does. The difference is that Mr. Knightley thinks Harriet is socially inferior too. It’s purely Emma’s imaginings about Harriet’s background that make Emma think Harriet is not inferior to her.
• And, my favorite argument about this: Mr. Darcy does exactly the same thing to Mr. Bingley! And boasts about it to Colonel Fitzwilliam! Yet we don’t hold it against him, dislike him for it, as we do Emma. Maybe if we heard how Mr. Darcy dissuades Mr. Bingley, and how Mr. Bingley responded, we would think about it more. It’s so off-camera that it’s easy to ignore. We can imagine them acting in the best possible way—we don’t have to hear Mr. Darcy manipulating Mr. Bingley explicitly.

OK, enough of that. Here are some other scenic points along the way:

• I’m fascinated by the description of Emma’s natural talent and lack of application when they’re talking about her portraits in Chapter 6. She is like the quintessential slacker gifted kid. I can relate.
• Check out the conversation on What Men Want between Emma and Mr. Knightley in Chapter 8. Emma says (playfully), men like pretty girls better than smart ones. But Mr. Knightley says, “Men of sense . . . do not want silly wives.” I love Austen and her women-respecting heroes! Mr. Knightley acknowledges Emma has “reason”—rational thought. No surprise to us now, but this was a debate that went back and forth at the time. Could women think rationally or were they entirely governed by emotion. Emma’s a flawed person, but she is intelligent. I’d love to know how readers of the time viewed that—I know they didn’t like her, but was her “reason,” her brain, a thing people doubted?
• Mr. Elton is the Justin Bieber of Highbury—everybody’s crush! So popular! So beautiful!
• Mr. Woodhouse is almost a caricature of old people in general – anything new or any change is terrible! But Emma is like her father in supposing what’s good or bad for her is good or bad for everyone. Jane makes fun of Mr. Woodhouse explicitly: “his spirits [were] affected by his daughter’s attachment to her husband.”
• It’s interesting that we see Emma’s charity to the poor family—maybe Austen felt like she needed to show us that Emma is objectively a good person. Also, Harriet is the complete yes-woman!
• I like the John Knightleys—I like the inclusion of the kids, I like the character of John Knightley as being good but not perfect—considerate and kindly, but no nonsense

But I am glad Emma’s mistreatment of Harriet is almost over. She doesn’t do her best by Jane Fairfax, but it’s all much more understandable. I guess our lesson here is, don’t make a friend of someone who worships you. No good will come of it!

Happy birthday, Pride and Prejudice

Two hundred years ago today, a little novel called Pride and Prejudice rolled off the presses for the very first time.

Here we are, still talking about it. We’re still thinking about it. We’re still getting new things from it.

In Pride and Prejudice, we have humor and romance. We have family life, and a much-beloved set of nerves. We have walks in the countryside, and a marriage based on genuine love and mutual respect. We have muddy hems and fine eyes. We have two nice people falling in love. We have accomplished ladies who improve their minds by extensive reading. We have Mary Bennet and Mr. Collins, Missed Connection extraordinaire. We have Charlotte Lucas, who does what she has to do. We have Lydia. We have Kitty, who turns out okay, we think. We have Bridget Jones. We have Colin Firth as two good men named Darcy. We have Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and The Lizzie Bennet Diaries and all the rest. We have you—we have this community of funny, thoughtful people.

Thanks, Jane.

Out with the old: ANSWERS

Here we have the answers to last week’s game of failed New Year’s resolutions. Thank you all for playing along—your hemming and hawing and theorizing in the comments was delightful! Let’s play again soon.

1. Resolves to practice the power of positive thinking. Is already so thoroughly positive as to succeed just by getting up in the morning. Is impressed by the power of positive thinking. – MR. BINGLEY

2. Resolves to run off, experience the world, and achieve self-actualization, possibly becoming a lady-pirate with much cooler younger sister in the process. Fails to account for the medium-sized drop-off, meant to thwart wandering cows, at the edge of the estate. – FANNY PRICE

3.  Resolves to be more in control of her emotions. Is in raptures about how controlled her emotions are going to be, now that she’s resolved. Faints with excitement. – MARIANNE DASHWOOD

4. Resolves to get out of bed. Is seduced by cuteness of pug face. Stays in bed. – LADY BERTRAM

5. Has no resolutions. Life is already perfect: wife supportive of gardening habit; house next to awesomest house in the world. – MR. COLLINS

6. Resolves to be a lady with a grasp on reality. Is pretty sure husband is pushing her towards this resolution in order to lure her into cave of godlessness and drink her blood. But at least she likes her father-in-law. – CATHERINE MORLAND

Ask Mrs. Fitzpatrick: How early can I read Jane Austen with my daughter?

Send us your questions! Mrs. Fitzpatrick knows a lot of stuff, useful and useless alike. “Ask Mrs. Fitzpatrick” will answer anything related to the world of the books, the books themselves, P.G. Wodehouse, math, or Star Trek. Jane Austen (deceased) will comment on your personal problems in “What Would Jane Do?” Write to us using the contact form on the About page. We’d love to hear from you!

Ms. Parvate asks: How early can I read Austen with my daughter? She turns 10 next month! And which book do you suggest as the first one?

Mrs. Fitzpatrick answers: Way to go, Ms. Parvate! We like your spirit! The young ones, female and male alike, should be introduced to the great Miss Austen as soon as possible. Still, I have to say I think 10 is probably a little young, even for Miss A, who I know is precocious. (All daughters of Austenite mothers are precocious—well-known fact.)

Anecdotal evidence indicates that 11 is probably a good time to start, and that you and Miss A can’t go wrong with Pride and Prejudice. This is a good general theory, but we can refine it with a little insight into your daughter’s character.

• Is she contrary as all heck, like me? If so, not letting her read the book, while showing her that you enjoy it, may ultimately make her more of a Jane Austen fan.
• Jane’s language is a bit of a tall order for a 10-year-old. Does Miss A eat long sentences for breakfast? If not, it will help if she has some idea of the story first. So you could show her some adaptations this year. (Cue furious debate on which ones!)
• However, watching the movie first does take away some suspense. Do we want to deprive her of the true full satisfaction of the ending? I mean, to adults it may seem obvious how Pride and Prejudice will turn out, but I devoured that ending as a girl. It was touch and go there, when they come back and Bingley is trying to propose! I mean, I was worried Darcy wouldn’t make it!
• If Miss A does read at a very high level, then I’d say you can go ahead. How is she on P.G. Wodehouse? If she reads Bertie Wooster stories after school every day, she’s probably ready for Jane. If she doesn’t, well, why doesn’t she?? 😉
• I’m going to throw in a good word for Northanger Abbey here. This might have been my first Jane Austen book, and look where it’s gotten me . . . . The heroine is a bit younger, the satire is a bit broader, and the nuances are a bit less nuanced. Especially if Miss A has any sort of gothic background (as which tween girl in these vampire-ridden days does not?), she might relate more to gawky geeky Catherine Morland than cool poised Elizabeth Bennet. Just a thought.

So there you have it, Ms. Parvate. Let us know how it turns out. It’s exciting to think of reading Jane Austen for the very first time! Kinda makes me want to get out my book right now!

P.S. Even though Miss Ball is hosting an Austenacious read-a-thon of Mansfield Park right now, I do not recommend that until Miss A is much older.

The Flashback Episode

This Thursday it will be a year since my beloved Mr. Fitzpatrick died. I am finding myself in much the same position Austen was when her family moved to Bath and her father died: just not in the mood to write. So, I give you instead Mr. Fitzpatrick’s favorite Austenacious post, originally published last May.

Pop quiz

You are in a car going @#&%$* mph on Interstate 5 towards Los Angeles. An officer pulls you over and asks, “What’s the reason for your speed today, miss?” What do you say?

Mrs. Bennet: Mr. Bingley is come! He is indeed! Officer, hurry up, can’t you?

Mr. Bingley: My ideas flow so rapidly that they make me drive very very fast.

Mr. Bennet: I thought I saw Mr. Collins in my rear-view mirror. And don’t call me “miss.”

Mr. Collins: Lady Catherine de Bourgh, my eminent patroness, most urgently desired me to find a wife, and I have heard there are many fine young ladies in Los Angeles.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh: Sir! How dare you question me! I shall make sure you NEVER find a wife!

Mr. Darcy: I saw Mr. Wickham tailgating a young lady, and was about to perform a citizen’s arrest. Or make him marry her, if necessary.

Mr. Wickham: I thought I saw Mr. Darcy in my rear-view mirror.

Lydia and Kitty Bennet: We were in search of officers! And it looks like we found one! 😉

Elizabeth Bennet: I do apologize, officer. My sisters just don’t stop making trouble. I have to run after them all the time.

Photo credit: ©2009 Heather Dever. All rights reserved.

In drawing and painting, in sickness and in health

Today, we’re talking royal wedding. SURPRISE! I mean, come on. It’s not like anybody’s talking about this little shindig. We’re just trying to make sure you get your fill, is what we’re saying. YOU’RE WELCOME.

Okay, so royal wedding talk isn’t exactly Austen. After all, nobody in Jane Austen marries a prince, and maybe that’s half the point. But it’s wedding week! We’re down to the thirty-six-hour mark, people, and these navels aren’t going to gaze at themselves! What do you want from us?

So as we rush towards the big day, leaving commemorative mugs and press-on nails in our wake, we ask: Is Wills marrying an accomplished woman? And does it matter?

In a sense, maybe we’re past the point of the Jane-ian “a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages….something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.” Kate, after all, graduated from university with honors; all things being equal, she might have gone on to work and distinguish herself on any number of personal and professional merits. But then, parts of Bingley’s list do translate awfully well to the kinds of traits the royal family is looking for in a daughter-in-law: sure, she hasn’t had a job since 2007, but she’s certainly on top of her Best Dressed status. She photographs beautifully. She hasn’t said anything cringe-worthy in the press. She even studied Art History at St. Andrews, potentially taking care of that precious “drawing” (or, at a minimum, “talking about drawing”) requirement. For the twenty-first century, she can’t possibly be too far off the mark.

I wonder about Kate and what she’s going to do after the wedding—again, not that she appears to be an absolute comet of ambition (other than social) now. Perhaps being a princess is a full-time job, what with all that careful waving and the wearing of oppressively heavy headgear? On the other hand, until she distinguishes herself in some way, she dwells in the shadow of perhaps the ultimate accomplished woman: Princess Diana, who, after playing the basic princess and later slogging through an ugly break-up with her prince, got the ultimate revenge in the form of doing something significant with her life and being almost universally loved for it. I guess this is my hope for Kate—I wish her marital happiness in the manner of any winning Austenian marriage, of course, but I also hope that she’ll be (or become) accomplished in a sense greater than the drawing-room one. I’d love to see her use all of those carefully honed skills to the end of being somebody unique or doing something interesting for the world.

Because not even Caroline Bingley can argue with that (though Lord knows she’d try).

42nd Reading of Pride and Prejudice

Thanks, Miss Ball, for stepping up to the tea-plate with your New Year’s Resolutions. They made me realize that I had . . . not read Pride and Prejudice since we started Austenacious! Oh, the horror!

I have now remedied the omission. And really I think the break was good. I knew P&P too well, you know? 42 is the approximate number of times I’ve read it (twice a year since seventh grade), and I can practically recite the thing—just ask Miss Ball and Miss Osborne! I’m sure you all know the feeling, or, she says darkly, you will . . .

Now, after writing about Jane Austen for over a year, and having quite the eventful year in my own life, I see Pride and Prejudice with fresher eyes.

The family dynamics struck me strongly. Mrs. Bennet is so very realistic! And she gets a lot of . . . I was going to say dialog, but she doesn’t do dialogs, does she? Mrs. Bennet just talks a lot, almost as much as Miss Bates in Emma. More than Jane had an ear for pillow talk, more even than for girlfriend time, she had a pitch-perfect ear for silly women.

“We’re marrying each other, not our entire families” might be called the central debate of the book. In the end Lizzy, Jane, and the boys admit that, but it takes a lot of work for them to get there. I know a lot of people are chilled by Lizzy and Jane throwing off their mother and less savory relations in the end, and I was too. But then I thought, who doesn’t avoid certain relatives as much as possible? Especially if they are as annoying as Mrs. Bennet! The Darcys and Bingleys do see Kitty, who lives with them, and “improve” her. They see Mr. Bennet, and of course the Gardiners. They even see Lydia and Miss Bingley sometimes. It’s just easier to accept your family when they’re not, um, living with you.

On reflection, it was probably P&P that taught me that you are not your family. Everyone has some strange ones stashed away, and you shouldn’t judge people by their relatives.

One other thing: The back cover of my copy of P&P says that “early 19th century English country society . . . is not very different from society today.” Sure, not so surprising, right? But then: “Mothers are determined that their daughters should marry well, daughters are determined to do what they wish, and fathers retire to their studies until the confusion is over and it is time to march down the aisle.” (!) This was my mother’s paperback, and it cost 95¢, and it just reeks of the 50s, doesn’t it? Today we still think Jane Austen reflects truth in society (of course!), but we focus on different things. Jane Austen for all time. It fascinates me.