...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.