And the Jane-velope Goes To…

If you are anything like the Austenacious team, you will be spending Sunday evening watching people you do not know win awards you did not help bestow. You may or may not care about the awards themselves (though, ahem, you may feel unusually strongly that Cate Blanchett should win for Blue Jasmine); you may be watching to ensure that Lupita Nyong’o has worn something flawless, or to see who’s photobombing whom, or maybe you’re just super into the Mani-Cam.

And at some point, somebody you are rooting for will lose. Somebody you are rooting against will win! That person will make a terrible, boring, pretentious speech. And you will think, just for a second, Well, nobody asked me.

But take heart. WE are asking you. Be our Academy! Below, we’ve created a series of Jane-related categories for which we feel there should be awards, and we need your votes! Click, and make your voices heard! And when La Blanchett wins, we know she’ll thank you in her acceptance speech.

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Would You Rather…

Put away your pride and your high hopes for the world, kids; today, we’re playing a game. It’s Would You Rather: Austen Edition! So, tell me.

Would you rather…

…be single and a burden to your parents OR marry Mr. Collins?

…share a dorm room with Mary Bennet OR Miss Bates?

…fall down a hill in the rain OR fall off the seawall in Lyme OR fall off the ha-ha?

…be daughter to Mrs. Bennet OR Lady Bertram?

…find yourself suddenly dating Mr. Willoughby OR Mr. Wickham?

…be poor in a cottage by the sea with no servants OR be very wealthy but married to Mr. Elton?

…never be spoken to again by Mr. Bennet OR Mrs. Bennet?

…take a turn about the room with your crush, OR allow him to admire your figure from afar?

…wear a necklace from Mary Crawford OR play a pianoforte from Frank Churchill?

…marry a guy who said something mean about you at a party OR a guy you haven’t seen in eight years OR someone who points out your screw-ups?

Aaand GO!

 

The Holiday Letters of Jane Austen

 

What a year! Sadly, we lost our father and then our brother and his greedy wife took the whole inheritance. We moved into our current home–it’s a bit snug, but at least we don’t have too many servants to keep us comfy! In the spring, Marianne injured her ankle (b00), but also met a nice young man and another nice older man (yay!).  Elinor keeps the house running (and seems to have met a nice young man, but we don’t know what his deal is yet), and Margaret just sort of…does whatever. Happy holidays from our family to yours!

 

This year, I turned the big two-seven. Still single, but what can you do? Spent some time at the beach, and it looks like my friend Louisa’s going to be okay. If you know any lonely but faithful (and handsome) sea captains—and by that I mean, one very specific lonely but faithful (and handsome) sea captain—you might want to subtly let me know. Merry Christmas!

This year at Longbourne has been very exciting! Three of our girls were married, two of them taking us quite by surprise, and two of our sons-in-law are very rich! (I’ll let you decide which is which!) Mary continues reading something boring, and Kitty must find a personality of her own, now that our Lydia’s gone away! Mr. Bennet spent lots of time in his study. Maybe next year these old nerves of mine will get a break!

 

Happy holidays from the Woodhouse-Knightley household! Pretty much everybody we know got married this year, including me! Go figure. Mr. Knightley moved in so Dad could stay at Hartfield. The rest of the year was full of parties, picnics, one very mysterious pianoforte, and a whole lot of personal growth—but we won’t get into that. Just make sure to come see our new strawberry patches this spring, each and every one of you! Happy New Year!

 

Aaaaand, SCENE.

 

 

 

Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do?

This morning, I was thinking—as one does—that I would not make a very good Austen heroine. Here’s the thing: I am, and nearly always have been, a follower of signs and rules. I take instructions at face value. I hate being caught out of line; I stress out over the most minor infractions; people who ignore the rules make me crazy, mostly because I’m following them, so why shouldn’t they? Because of all these things, and also possibly because—this paragraph informs me—I am old and crotchety, my tolerance for handsome scoundrels is, I think, unusually low. The “falls for cute guy who’s kind of a jerk” phase would never work. Wickham? Willoughby? Henry Crawford? Not for me, right off the bat. (OMG, you guys. Am I Fanny Price?)

Then I realized: any one of Jane’s heroines could say the same. It’s not like the douchey decoy love interests in Austen ride into town on their Harleys, blaring Steely Dan and smoking unfiltered cigarettes. They’re sweet-faced. They pretend to be nice. Moms like them. It’s only later that they’re exposed as cads, liars, and seducers of the very young, and most of them end up alone when their natures are revealed. That’s the pattern: handsome guy shows up and makes nice with local ladies, handsome guy is exposed as terrible, handsome guy loses all credit in the neighborhood and is pushed out by the more honorable suitor who’s waiting in the wings. (I suppose the exception here is Mr. Wickham, as he ends up married…but Lydia doesn’t really know what’s up, and let’s be honest: this is karmic retribution of a very particular and satisfying type.) Anyway, I have to assume that none of Jane’s characters mean to get sucked in by these guys.

The twin assumptions here, of course, are that a) nobody—no lady—likes a scoundrel once he’s revealed as such, and that b) handsomeness never trumps skeeviness, which I think Hugh Grant and reality TV generally have pretty much proven incorrect. And so I wonder: what would Jane have done with a scoundrel who was unashamed—someone openly rebellious, especially when it comes to the ladies? Could she (or any of her heroines) have been drawn to the wild side, or would obvious rule-breaking have disqualified a man from her personal “gentleman” category? Why don’t any of these men end up the way they might in real life: eventually okay, and not smacked down by the universe?

Readers, what do you think?

Jane for the Gold: Men’s Debauchery Finals

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to our coverage of the final round of Men’s Debauchery competition in these Olympic games. It’s been a harrowing week of faked backstories and false seductions, and I can’t imagine that tonight will be any different. What do you think lies in store?”

“Well, any talk of debauchery—and its better-known cousin, cross-country douchebaggery—must begin with George Wickham.  Wickham has been the most dominating force in both sports for nearly a decade. After his promising debut of demanding his inheritance and then declining to join the clergy, back when he was the youngest guy in the game, we’ve seen victory after victory for him.”

“It’s true. Is there anybody more decorated in his field? I mean, his classic performance with regards to Georgiana Darcy says it all. Look at the way he convinced her to run away with him in the previous round of competition—she was a nice girl from a good family, and he got her all the way to the seaside! And she was only fifteen! Just an amazing performance from a debaucher at the height of his fitness and skill.”

“Let’s not forget about Wickham’s closest competitor, though. For my money, John Willoughby demonstrates a superior technique and perhaps a siren song for the classic moves of the old guard. Let’s take a look at the tape of that amazing, amazing scene on the hillside near the Dashwood cottage—there. Look at the way he uses the rain and Marianne’s natural drama-queen tendencies to turn a perfectly fit young lady into a damsel in distress! I’ll never forget the reaction of the crowd that day, and I think Willoughby represents a new era for showmanship in the sport.”

“It’s true that Willoughby appears to have been training hard for this competition, and in some ways may already have surpassed his rival. Wickham, after all, never consummated his dalliance with Miss Darcy; Willoughby managed to conceive a secret child and abandon her to the fates, and you know the judges can’t resist that kind of solid performance.”

“Tough luck for him, though, in the aftermath. Who knew Colonel Brandon would find out about the child, provide for her in every possible way, and expose Willoughby in the process? I just don’t think there’s any way he’ll end up on the podium after a misstep like that.”

“Well, we’re only thirty-eight seconds from finding out. Will either gentleman—and we use that term loosely—make it to Scotland and then abandon his teenage bride, alone and confused? Stay tuned and we’ll see you after the break.”

Lies to tell Jane Austen tourists

England is a lovely country. Everyone’s so polite and so friendly. Which I guess is why they need sarcastic outlets like Time Out London‘s Lies to Tell Tourists column. My personal favorite:

When on the tube it’s customary to introduce yourself to the people sitting next to and opposite you. (@magiczebras)

I never need a sarcastic outlet, which is why I immediately started thinking of Lies to Tell Jane Austen Tourists.

When at a party it’s customary to introduce yourself to all those present, particularly superior nephews of your noble patroness.

Respectable, marriageable gentlemen will flock instantly to your side should you fall down a hill. Important: It must be raining at the time.

When conversing with a new acquaintance, you should comment on their father’s ill health and be surprised they were raised by a lady.

Lockets of hair possessed by significant others always represent true love.

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his ha-ha. OK, the quickest way to a man’s aunt is through her ha-ha.

If you’re a guest in someone’s house, your first duty is to suspect your host of nefarious activities and scour the place to find the truth.

One’s first impressions of people are invariably right.

And, the best way to get a girl to break up with your son/nephew is to insult her.

My efforts just scratch the surface. Come on, readers, show us your stuff! I’m sure you can lie to Jane Austen tourists like anything. Bring it on!

Just what is a modern twist?

Hunh. So the upcoming movie From Prada to Nada is being billed as a “modern twist on Sense and Sensibility.” To quote The Wall Street Journal, it “centers on two spoiled Beverly Hills rich girls (Camilla Belle and Alexa Vega) who are forced to move in with poor relatives in East L.A. following their father’s death. Do the girls learn to embrace their Hispanic heritage? Of course they do.” See the preview below.

I think The Wall Street Journal is a perfectly appropriate venue to talk about Sense and Sensibility. They’re both so much about money, of course. But let’s go over a few problems here, shall we?

A) Do we think Elinor and Marianne are spoiled before their father dies? (Answer: It never even occurred to me.)

B) Do we think they “learn to embrace” the values of the poor relations they now associate with? (Answer: Ha! As if! Leaving aside the quibble that the relations aren’t poor, their values differ mainly by being less refined than the Dashwoods’. And we know what Jane thinks about that. In fact, I learned from Sense and Sensibility that you can and should maintain your standards even if those around you have lower ones, while at the same time being nice to them, because hey, it pays off.)

But that rich people are spoiled and stupid, and poor people are maybe a bit rough around the edges but fundamentally more real, no, Sense and Sensibility does not go there. Even in Jane Austen’s more class-conscious books, like Emma and Pride and Prejudice, there are real rich people and spoiled rich people, real poor(er) people and silly poor(er) people. It’s hard to tell from the preview, but I hope From Prada to Nada keeps at least that much shading, and even more, that it possibly, just possibly, gets into differing expectations of love and romance. I hope they manage to get anywhere near as close as the new xkcd to showing us Marianne and Willoughby’s relationship. If so, it might be a worthwhile adaptation. You see, I’m keeping an open mind!

http://cdn.springboard.gorillanation.com/storage/xplayer/yo033.swf

Jane Austen Names for Your Baby?

Lauren Miller, posting over at nameberry, a baby names site, sounds like someone we’d like to know: she’s a true Austen enthusiast, and we appreciate her thorough knowledge of and appreciation for the names in Austen’s books. And I appreciate her suggestion of naming your child after the hero or heroine of your favorite book—a friend of mine named her daughter Serenity, and I think there’s nothing wrong with that (though I would not name my child Enterprise.) Yes, your Elizabeths, Janes, Emmas, Annes, bring ’em on!

However, I do think Ms. Miller is a trifle naive in some of her name suggestions. To wit:

Kitty: Ms. Miller realizes you probably don’t want to name your kid Fanny. But naming her anything that can be twisted into the name of another female body part is really not a good idea. Alas, I speak from experience here.

Lydia or Maria: There’s nothing wrong with either of these as names. But do you want to name your progeny in honor of Lydia Bennet or Maria Bertram? Why not call her Scandal and be done with it?

Benwick: “It’s ‘Ben-ick,’ not ‘Ben-wick.’ On second thought, just call me Ben. Ha ha, Icky Ben! Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

Bertram: What ho?

Bingley: Is it my own dirty mind, or is this potential phallic territory? Rhymes with Dingaling, doesn’t it?

Dashwood: Similarly . . . Though we may have to face the possibility that NO name is safe from that sort of thing. But this one really does sound like a porn name. Sorry.

Wickham or Willoughby: See above re Lydia and Maria, plus, I think I’d kill my parents if they named me Wickham. At least Willoughby could be Will.

Darcy: As a girl’s name there’s nothing wrong with it except that it’s so . . . 80s. Isn’t it?

Grey: I know people can get used to virtually anything being someone’s name, and can forget its original meaning. But Grey, especially for a girl? Why not name her Dreary or Grim and be done with it? Also, small point, but Miss Grey in Sense and Sensibility was not exactly a nice person.

Price: LOL, think of the emotional scarring! Poor girl, branded as a prostitute from birth. “The Price is right!” The jokes are really endless.

Tilney: More random than anything else, I guess. But, Tilney? Really?

For the record, Ms. Miller, I love your other suggestions. Isabella: a nickname of mine, actually; Emma: a name I’ve considered for my own (strictly potential) daughter; Georgiana: just plain awesome! And considering some of the actual names people have actually named their actual children, I know it could be worse. But, please, think of the ramifications before you suggest these things! And, we’d love to hang out sometime and talk Jane Austen with you. You can even call me Isabella.

Photo credit:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sharynmorrow/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

“There is nothing ironic about Jane Austen!”

With the return of Glee to the weekly TV schedule—finally—I think we’ve all been reminded of a new truth universally acknowledged: everything would be better, Austen novels included, if everybody had at least the option of bursting into a well-chosen pop song from time to time. You know, revealing their places in the collective consciousness, choreography optional (but encouraged). Lizzy belts out a girl-power ballad—ill practiced, of course—at the height of her emotional turmoil? Knightley takes the edge off with a few bars of air guitar and a phantom drum solo? I’m telling you: Jane Austen might roll in her grave, but Jane Lynch would make a fine Lady Catherine.

Am I right?

Here are a few Austen characters and their likely anthems:

Captain Wentworth: “I’m on a Boat” – The Lonely Island

Anne Elliot: “I Will Always Love You“* – Dolly Parton

*The original version with the sad monologue in the middle, because that speech is exactly the gracious and heartbroken speech Anne would make to Wentworth—complete with poignant pauses every few words—and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Mr. Bingley: “Mr. Brightside” – The Killers

Mr. Collins: “Hell No” – Sondre Lerche & Regina Spektor

Charlotte Lucas: “The Sound of Settling” – Death Cab for Cutie

Mary Bennet: “If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out” – Cat Stevens

Catherine Morland: “Miss Teen Wordpower” – The New Pornographers

Isabella Thorpe: “We Used to Be Friends” – The Dandy Warhols

Marianne Dashwood: “I Feel It All” – Feist

John Willoughby: “It’s Raining Men” – The Weather Girls

Readers, who are we missing?

When a young woman’s fancy turns to (eventual) love

It’s a quiet weekend night at Austenacious HQ (East). Miss Ball sits in silence, embroidering her Mr. Darcy Che Guevara chair seat covers and dreaming of men in top boots with well-stocked trout ponds and a passion for the working man.

And then.

Blurp!

F1rthygdness129: I’m so annoyed right now! I’m finally almost finished re-reading Sense & Sensibility, and the ending is ridiculous!

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: How so?

F1rthygdness129: They’re all totally pimping out Marianne to Colonel Brandon!

F1rthygdness129: “They each felt his sorrows and their own obligations, and Marianne, by general consent, was to be the reward of all.” The freakin’ REWARD of all. They all want Marianne to marry Brandon, and he deserves to have the girl he wants; therefore, of course she should marry him. WTF, mate?

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: Yeah, somehow my entire memory of the end stops with Elinor’s freak-out. Is that really how it goes down? Way to mentally fanfic a happier ending for Marianne, self.

F1rthygdness129: And it goes on: “With such a confederacy against her—with a knowledge so intimate of his goodness—with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself, which at last, though long after it was observable to everyone else, burst on her—what could she do?”

F1rthygdness129: WHAT COULD SHE DO? She could make up her own mind and heart and think for herself!

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: Somehow I think that if somebody had said that to Jane herself, there would have been words.

F1rthygdness129: (Totally unrelated, I just took a ginger cake out of the oven, and I’m dying for it to cool down so I can eat some. Mrs. F is going to be lucky if there’s any left for her when she comes over tomorrow night.)

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: This is like the world’s worst diet. “There’s cake…three thousand miles away. If you want it, WALK FOR IT.” Heh.

F1rthygdness129: Eventually, she really does fall in love with him, so it’s not like it’s TOTAL crap. “Marianne could never love by halves; and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, as it had once been to Willoughby.” But still…this wasn’t how I remembered the ending.

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: Me, neither, but I…kind of like it? I mean, not the practically arranged marriage part, but the part where she learns the subtleties of love through a slow-burn relationship. Especially if Colonel Brandon doesn’t suddenly take off his unsexy glasses, shake out his hair, and become somebody he clearly isn’t.

F1rthygdness129: Heh. Did you ever watch Smallville? I was all about Michael Rosenbaum as Lex Luthor. But mostly I watched because the TWoP reviews were HI-larious! But I digress. At least Austen reminds us that Willoughby is still a big douchebag.

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: …Apparently the great Internet spell-checker in the sky doesn’t think “douchebag” is a word.

F1rthygdness129: When he shows up and talks to Elinor (as Marianne is on her death-flu-bed), Elinor finds herself feeling sorry for Willoughby. And eventually everyone sort of softens toward him. But on the last page of the book, we’re told that Willoughby—despite knowing that he screwed it all up—still finds plenty of enjoyment in his activities, marriage, and life in general. So despite his sort-of redemption, Austen takes him down a peg. Yay for that!

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: And that’s really all we need: to rightfully hate the douchey guy.

F1rthygdness129: That, and cake.

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: And cake.

F1rthygdness129: Speaking of which…

LadyCatherinedeBlerg: …Yeah. Priorities. I’ll see you later.