I am a first time visitor to this page (in fact I just found it this afternoon) and think it a wonderful vehicle. I have, in many ways, felt myself in the wilderness as a "die-hard" romantic and fan of the stories of Jane Austen. When I readily admit to owning the video boxed set of Pride and Prejudice and that the scene I watch over and over is the ball scene at Netherfield, well, that is when most begin to glaze over a bit! Nonetheless, I am most pleased to make the discovery and look forward to future exploration. Now my question: Has anyone else found it ironic/irritating/maddening that Emma Thompson won so many awards and accolades for her senseless and decidedly insensible screenplay of Sense and Sensibility? I find it sad that a person of her heritage would do such a distinctly Hollywood thing such as a more 'modern' rewrite. Again, I thank you for this forum and look forward to making your acquaintance.
I am glad that I am not the only one to have encountered that glazing-over thing. I will never admit to the number of times that I have watched the entire boxed set to which you refer. Have you seen the Amanda-Root version of Persuasion?
I hope that you will read my posting on the Emma-Thompson version of Sense and Sensibility; I suspect you will find a kindred spirit there.
What does one read when Jane Austen's books have been thoroughly perused? I read them all once or twice a year and have yet to find an author whose works I enjoy as well. I don't expect to find another Jane Austen but surely there are other books worthy of being placed on the same bookshelf? (no English major here but I've done my share of English lit 101 reading so save your Charlotte Brontes to cool your er, pudding) Any suggestions??? :)
To begin with, let me refer you to two postings from Elizabeth M: First hers of 2/6/98 and then hers of 2/7/98. I also recommend that you consult Ken Roberts's Home Page which is a Great Books Index and very useful. Leslee Suttie posted some thoughts along these lines on 1/4/98.
Let me see, What else to recommend to someone who loves logic, human nature, and probability and who eschews the gothic? I consulted Madame Board-Meister and she confirmed my own guesses. Henry James belongs at the top of the list because he writes so well and seems indebted to Jane Austen. (Refer to the remarks of C.S. Lewis). Edith Wharton wrote in the style of James and Austen. Then, of course, there is George Eliot and Anthony Trollope who were not as cognizant about human nature but were as gifted at describing society at large. Balzac and Hugo wrote beautifully. E.M. Forster admired Jane Austen and is a favorite of Madame Board-Meister. Perhaps you should turn from English 101 to Russian 101: My personal recommendations are to Tolstoy and Dostoevski.
The Brontes were born about the time of Jane Austen's death. Someone once wrote to Charlotte and suggested that she should try to write more like Jane Austen. Charlotte had never heard of Jane Austen (few people had during that early-Victorian period), but dutifully read one of Jane's books. She wrote back with some very severe and condescending remarks. "Her business is not half so much with the human heart as with the human eyes, mouth, hands, and feet. What sees keenly, speaks aptly, moves flexibly, it suits her to study; but what throbs fast and full, though hidden, what the blood rushes through, what is the unseen seat of life and the sentient target of death--this Miss Austen ignores." (What's all this talk of anatomy? What purpose does it serve? Are these sensible thoughts, Charlotte?) What is your opinion: Given that there are intelligent people who love Jane Austen and that there are intelligent people who love the Brontes, are there intelligent people in the world who can love both Jane Austen and the Brontes?
Mr. Meister,
I agree with you re: Russian literature. Tolstoy can't be beat. I also like Dostoevski, but get so despondent when I read his books--they really draw me in. But, I'm a very subjective reader.
I checked out the page you mentioned: Great Books Index. It is wonderful. Like being in Heaven, I suppose (I ought to check Aquinas on that). But I noticed, and I mentioned to the fellow who runs the board, that he omitted Mark Twain's greatest book: Joan of Arc. Have you read it? He considered it his best, and I agree with him. You don't seem too fond of him. I never was until I read that book, and his remarks on it. It is some of the loveliest prose I have ever read. Huckleberry Finn is for the birds--Joan of Arc is a classic.
I love Wuthering Heights for the same reason I shy away from the Brothers Karamazov: It draws me in. I love the passion, and the darkness of the novel. I also love Jane Eyre--Such beautiful writing. Both of these Bronte girls expressed deep, passionate feeling. JA comes close in Persuasion. I prefer Austen, but the passion is implied. Persuasion draws on more of the feelings than in her other novels. Have you read Forster's Aspects of the Novel? He's got some great comments on Jane Austen, as well as the likeness of The Brothers Karamazov to Wuthering Heights. That's an interesting book.
Ms. M,
O.K. so it is possible for an intelligent person to love both Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters!
I was introduced to Tolstoy in an interesting way: Someone once heard me explain my theory of history and suggested that I read War and Peace because, he felt, Tolstoy had the same view and described it very well. It was excellent advice and a quite perceptive judgement. (Tolstoy describes this theory - individuals don't really influence history - in a very explicit way in a appendix to War And Peace. This is an appendix that hardly anyone reads.) The thing that impressed me, though, was the art of that novel.
Jane Austen gives me everything I want, logic and art and love of human nature. My problem with things like Jane Eyre is that they are so implausible. In Northanger Abbey, Mr. Tilney scolds Catherine Morland for allowing her imagination to run so wild. This was Jane Austen's way of scolding the legions of readers of Ann Radcliffe who did not question the logic of that author of gothic novels. Tilney's admonition could have been delivered to Charlotte Bronte. In fact, I wonder if Jane Eyre could have been written if Charlotte Bronte had ever read Northanger Abbey. (The Brontes lived during a period when Jane Austen was ignored.)
Mr. Meister,
Hey! I never said I was intelligent! I'm probably like Catherine Morland, and allow my thoughts to get carried away. That's why the Bronte girls appeal to me. It's difficult for me to remain logical and reasoned when my emotions are involved. Maybe that's the same with other people and it might be what gives the Bronte's their appeal.
Mr. Meister,
Concerning again Jane Eyre and the Bronte sisters' portrayal of men: I agree with you that to keep one's mad wife locked in the attic is an unusual, and impractical thing to do, and whereas such bizarre behavior is something which belongs to the scope of real life and should be avoided by novelists, yet it served a purpose in the novel. Jane had impediments to her attachment to Mr. Rochester--impediments that we would ignore or sweep away in our modern society. Jane would not ignore the vows Mr. Rochester had taken with his wife. She could only find happiness with him when that impediment was removed (by the death of Mrs. Rochester). His later blindness and loss of fortune, significantly, were no impediments to her love for him. Mrs. Rochester symbolizes the many "Mrs. Rochesters" who are happily ignored when their husbands' whims turn to other women. Sometimes more insight can be gained from reading fiction symbolically. The most difficult part of Jane Eyre for me, is the coincidence of previously unknown cousins being her rescuers, and Jane sharing her inheritance with them. Perhaps generosity was more common in days gone by. As for Rochester as a man: I find his character attractive, so Chesterton and I have had a falling out on this matter. I also like the character of Heathcliff. I think it is Forster who writes of Wuthering Heights in his "Aspects of the Novel". His comments would shed insight on this book. Another book you may want to read is EB White's "Elements of Style". Both are very good books, and if I remember right, both refer to Jane Austen.
You mention:
"Jane Austen is hardly one to censure the production of a play--she was not a Victorian. Jane often participated with her family in the production of plays as she was growing up, and she and her brother Henry often attended the theater in London together. No, what Fanny and Edmund were objecting to, in the dramatic production at Mansfield Park, is that the cast members were using this device to circumvent the proprieties of their society. And, their worst fears were realized when the familiarity that Henry Crawford and Maria Bertram developed in the rehearsals, lead inevitably to adultery."
My comment:
In pursuing my lifelong study of Jane Austen's work, I discovered some additional information about the play itself--approximately ten years--information that would have been readily apparent to any contemporaries of Jane Austen reading the novel. The parts taken by the brother and sister (the brother and sister representing evils of the big city, London) were actually lovers in the play. The rehearsals (and, of course, ultimately the real performance itself) allowed for actual lovemaking between brother and sister. In addition to the play being the occasion of the inappropriate (as you pointed out), the casting made the choice of the play scandalous.
I suppose that we might expect a countrified woman like Jane Austen to associate evil with city dwellers. However, you can see the same kind of thing in the novels of some of her contemporary women authors who were city dwellers themselves. I am thinking of Fanny Burney's Evelina. Miss Burney was raised in London, I believe, and was comfortable in urban societies. Burney's heroine, "Evelina", was a seventeen-year old country girl encountering London for the first time. You may recall a chapter in which the heroine's party was attending a gala in a large public garden at night. The affair was fashionable, but when Evelina accidentally found herself off the beaten path, she was nearly sexually assaulted by a group of drunken men of the gentry class. She rescued herself by attaching herself to a party of two women who managed to get her back to her friends. Her friends were astonished to see her companions; in fact, the hero of the novel called the next day to explain to her that she must show more care not be seen in the company of such women. So, what in the world was happening in the dark corners of those public gardens?
Dear Meister,
I hope you're enjoying Chesterton, and if you don't mind my saying so, I think there's a fine line between 'rhino' and 'bulldozer', and it might be in the images you evoke or in the actual spelling of the words. Anyway, I was going to say how I have never been a fan of Fanny Price, but when I read your information on Mansfield Park and Fanny, I gained a new understanding of her. So, now I shift the blame of being the eejit onto Edmund. And, I thank you, Rachel, for summing it up so nicely. Fanny was an insecure girl, but not insecure in her convictions, whereas, Edmund did not share her inner strength. I believe it's important for a woman to marry a man who is equal in strength to herself, and in this case, I'm convinced she would have sooner or later held Edmund in contempt. He is not her equal, and as you claim that class 2 Austen women are so attractive to you, many women find class 2 Austen men irresistible. That class includes Mr. Darcy, Henry Tilney, Capt. Wentworth and Henry Crawford. Class 1 Austen men--Cassandra counterparts--include Mr. Bingley, Edmund Bertram, and Edward Ferras: in short, men you could walk on. This particular classification is aside from their actual moral character, but many people cannot draw the distinction between the two. That's why there are so many people rooting for Henry Crawford over the eejit. Fanny Price will overcome her insecurity by love, but can Edmund ever gain strength of character? She may love him "till death us do part" out of gratitude for giving her love, but she will certainly never love him as an equal. How sad that Jane did not give her a bigger and better reward for standing up to her convictions against all odds. Personally, my favorite character in Mansfield Park is Pug.
Dear Divine Ms. M,
I believe your references are my reply to one of your postings, my posting on the filmed version of Mansfield Park, the last two paragraphs of a posting of Rachel's, and to my reply to her posting.
Bertram was zonked by Mary Crawford and, so, she was able to manipulate him into joining the dramatic production (and enlist his aid to infringe on Fanny's riding time). Do you imagine that only weak men get zonked and then are manipulated? It happens to every man eventually--it's inevitable. I think it really quite remarkable that he was able to pull away from her eventually. Don't forget his kindness to Fanny during her childhood--when she needed it most. Also, the best thing that ever happened to Fanny was that she was able to gain the respect and admiration of her uncle. That happened as a direct result of the fact that Edmund, in the midst of his own confessions to his father, explained that Fanny was the only family member to keep her head during the recent improprieties. Also, remember that he saved his brother's life at a time when Mary Crawford was musing about how nice it would be for everyone if that heir didn't survive. Is all that not honor enough for Fanny?
You might be interested to know that Jane Austen's own favorites among her male characters were George Knightley and Edmund Bertram. You also will be interested to hear this story. A niece of Jane Austen remembered overhearing an animated conversation between Jane Austen and her sister Cassandra. Cassandra had just read the manuscript and was pressuring Jane to allow Henry Crawford to marry Fanny Price. The niece remembered Jane standing mute, her head nodding "nay", her arms folded, and her face flushed with a determined expression. I was incredulous until I read your posting. Also, Mary Wollstonecraft wrote a number of interesting observations in her Rights of Woman, one of my favorites is in Chapter 6, where she explains why women usually prefer the worst kind of men. (It is too bad she didn't re-read that chapter just before she left for France; her life might have been a lot better.)
I found Pug to be a real dog.
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