...and so it begins

Well, it's been nearly a fortnight (see what I did there, with my turn-of-the-nineteenth-century words?) since I last blogged, but here I am again. After much wheedling, I was given a copy of The Complete Novels of Jane Austen by my dear husband for our anniversary. I feel that this is a very appropriate gift for a wedding anniversary and may lobby for it's inclusion into that age-old list of traditional anniversary presents. You know...first anniversary=paper, second anniversary=cotton, fourth anniversary=The Complete Jane Austen. ANYWAY, the point is that I got the book and have begun reading Sense and Sensibility. I am due to begin chapter 15 this evening. In other words, I haven't made terrific progress, but the book has been delightful so far.

I must say that I feel as though I am not a member of Austen's target audience, however. It feels to me as though Austen wants the reader to identify with or at least be amused by the character of Marianne while considering Elinor to be dull. Not dull as in stupid, of course--she is "sense" after all--but dull as in boring. Similarly, Willoughby is shown to be happily irresponsible while Colonel Brandon is sensible to the point of absurdity. Perhaps it is simply because I'm an old married woman, but I have found Marianne and Willoughby to be utterly obnoxious. Like the popular kids in junior high school, they sit in the corner and snicker at at those with repressed "sensibility" until I just want to smack them. I will admit, when Willoughby rescued Marianne after she fell on the hill, I was a bit in love with him, but his demeanor as of late has left me with a bad taste. Colonel Brandon on the other hand seems like a decent sort. I mean, the man has a ward. I would like to have a ward. Not in a creepy Alan-Rickman-ogling-his-ward-through-a-hole-in-the-wall kind of way, but in the sort of way in which I can introduce someone as My Ward. I suppose I'm a little possessive.

I fully intended to write more...something about the difference between an Austen hero and a Bronte hero, but my son is still awake in his bedroom singing "The Wheels on the Bus" and I must go attend to that situation. Adieu.

My Plan, Evil or Otherwise

Since the dawn of Junior High, numerous members of my sex have badgered, harassed and nagged me about reading the works of Jane Austen, namely Pride and Prejudice. After caving to peer pressure and reading the novel twice, I came to the conclusion that it is a total piece of crap.

OK, OK, that might be a bit harsh. After all Stephanie Meyer has clearly set the bar pretty high as far as crap is concerned, and Elizabeth Bennett is definitely no Bella. However, my point is that Pride and Prejudice is, in my humble opinion, completely overrated. It's not that I have poor taste in literature. My favorite book of all time is Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, which many of my lofty friends (Read: pretentious bastards) have described as the creepy version of anything Austen. To be sure, I have an odd penchant for dry classic literature, favoring Bronte, James and Tennyson over, well, anything else.

So why did Austen leave such a bad taste in my mouth? Pride and Prejudice wasn't a bad book, per se, it just wasn't good. It sits somewhere in a weird literary purgatory, along with My Antonia, Lolita, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and anything written by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I realize that most people do not agree with me on this, but I really couldn't care less.

Now, to come to my point: I have decided to spend this summer reading each of Austen's six novels (re-reading Pride and Prejudice, of course) in an effort to finally understand what all the fuss is about. I will read them systematically, taking notes on each and then blogging my feelings about them. I am 99% sure that no one will read this blog (and that any poor soul who does will be driven insane by the incessant ramblings of a crazed housewife), but writing about my feelings on these six books in a location that someone could actually access will hold me accountable.

So tomorrow I will be off to purchase the collected novels of Jane Austen, something I thought that I would never do. Please wish me good luck as I plow my way through the novels. I truly hope that I will be enlightened and that this time Austen will show me what I have been missing.