By virtue of her surname, Jane Austen's books have pride of place near the very top of my fiction shelves. That's fitting since her novels also have pride of place in my heart; I often reach for them first when I'm need of a good story or when I want to immerse myself in a well-crafted and coherent literary world. Her beloved characters feel so real that I enjoy visiting them often, as one does old friends.

Although I feel this way about basically all of Austen's work, I reserve the greatest admiration and enjoyment for her beloved classic Pride and Prejudice. It's the novel that most people think of when they think of Jane Austen, and if someone has only read one of her books, this is usually it. This may be due to the accessible love story, the complex and dashing hero Mr. Darcy, or the wit and vivaciousness of the novel's heroine Elizabeth Bennet. At any rate, the book has endured as a favorite for generations. It's a happy combination of compelling and funny tale, rich and carefully crafted language (with particularly snappy dialog), and imminently well-drawn characters.

Jane Austen (1775-1817) might be astonished to discover just how long this book (and indeed all of her work) has endured, and how beloved it's become. I think she would be especially intrigued by the myriad of film and book versions, adaptations of and homages to Pride and Prejudice. Some of these are excellent and have provided contemporary audiences with a ready "in" into her novels. Although her themes and characters feel utterly universal and human, the formal language and foreign (to us) customs can make her books something of an acquired taste for modern audiences. Once you have acquired the taste, however, you'll probably find yourself hungry to read all of Austen's six completed novels.

Because I love Pride and Prejudice so much, and because the characters live in my imagination with such richness, I thought I would try something a bit different by way of a review. First, I'll offer a very brief plot recap for those who aren't familiar with the story. You have my permission to stop after that! But if you enjoy the story too, you may enjoy hearing my take on what the two eldest Bennet girls might have thought about the novel, had they had a sneak peek at an unpublished draft.

The Story (the straightforward version)

Elizabeth Bennet is the second of five daughters of a family that could perhaps be best described as "gently decayed" gentry. Although Mr. Bennet has a nice home and modest estate, due to the inheritance laws of the day (and the fact that he and Mrs. Bennet produced no male heir) the entire estate is entailed on a distant relation, a male cousin. The five girls, without much in the way of fortune, must find good husbands if they have any hope of really making their way in the world. In fact, it is almost the sole obsession of headstrong, nervous Mrs. Bennet to make sure that her girls marry well.

Much of the story turns on the need for Jane and Lizzy, as the oldest daughters, to make those good matches. Mrs. Bennet has high hopes that young and rich Mr. Bingley, who recently moved to the nearby estate of Netherfield, will make Jane an offer of marriage. Indeed Jane and almost everyone else hopes for it too, especially when she and Mr. Bingley find themselves highly attracted to one another. But social proprieties and class distinction continue to get in the way of the match, especially in the form of opposition from Mr. Bingley's snobbish sisters and his close friend, the even richer and more handsome Mr. Darcy, who scorns the entire neighborhood with what seems like inordinate pride. At least it seems that way to Lizzy, who finds herself both attracted to and appalled by this taciturn and sometimes downright rude man. Her prejudice against him grows (and the plot thickens) with a third man, the dashing George Wickham, comes into the neighborhood, bearing uncharitable tales about Darcy's contemptible behavior towards himself in the past. Who will Lizzie believe? To contemplate matters even further, Mr. Collins, the distant cousin on whom the estate is entailed, comes calling with the intention of doing right by one of the Bennet girls (preferably Lizzy) only he is the most ridiculous and pretentious man she's ever met. What's a girl to do in situations like these?

Each setting and character is vibrantly drawn in beautiful and yet economical language. There's so much to love here, but I would say that Darcy and Lizzy's conversations become the real "music" of the story. Their attraction is so obvious and the obstacles to their coming together so real; these things are felt in and through every line of dialog they have with one another. Other well-drawn characters such as Mr. Bennet, Charlotte Lucas, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh admirably serve the plot but also provide poignant, pointed or comic characterizations that give the reader plenty of food for thought about societal customs in Austen's time and human relationships in all times.

The Letters (the imaginative version)

The following letters are ones that I think might have been exchanged between Elizabeth Darcy (nee Bennet) and Jane Bingley (nee Bennet) about a year after the end of the events of Pride and Prejudice. I have, of course, robbed an imaginary post office. I hope they shed further light on this wonderful novel and its characters, and on some of the reasons why I highly recommend this book.

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MY DEAR SISTER LIZZY,
I was delighted to hear the news that Miss Jane Austen has endeavored to write down the story of our family's recent history, and particularly all that pertains to your happy fortune in matrimony as well as my own. Indeed, Lizzy, I am still reeling from the unexpected joy of my own good fortune. Though I've been a wife now for nearly a twelvemonth, I still have moments of such utter happiness when I survey Mr. Bingley's cheerful countenance.

He is looking particularly happy these days since we have made the decision to let Netherfield and to move nearer to you and dear Mr. Darcy. I confess I myself had qualms about our removal from the vicinity, knowing what a comfort it has been to dear Mama to have us situated so excellently near, but then I fear even my husband's gentle temper has been tried in the extreme from our year long sojourn so near to her sometimes intemperate outbursts.

Lizzy, answer me truthfully, do you not worry that our dear mother does not always appear to the best advantage in Miss Austen's account? It is good fortune indeed that we have had the opportunity to see the manuscript before its general release to the world. Miss Austen's art in capturing the emotional likeness of others is fine indeed; I do not deny that our mother's personality comes vividly to life as one peruses the prose. I simply wonder if perhaps Miss Austen could not have salted her keen observations with a bit more charity in order to keep Mama from looking overly ridiculous. Likewise, I'm afraid that our poor cousin Mr. Collins, simple and (though it pains me to say it) pretentious as he is, is not always presented in the best possible light.

Is this open and exaggerated style a trait we should overlook, dearest Lizzy, believing it to be (as surely it must be) in the service of truth? Or would it be best if we gently applied to Miss Austen with the request that she render our nearest relations more sedately, in order to spare their feelings? Recall if you will that Mary and Kitty are still unmarried. I would dearly dislike to see their own opportunities for matrimony negatively affected by Miss Austen's frank portraiture of our family's eccentricities and foibles.

I rely on your wise opinion, Lizzy. Do write in haste to let me know your counsel.
YOURS, JANE
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MY DEAR JANE,
I rejoice to see that marriage has done nothing to change your good and generous character -- you are the same as ever, always concerned for the welfare of others. While I believe your feelings do you credit, I find your apprehensions regarding Miss Austen's manuscript a trifle inflated.

Dear Mama's portrait is painted as near truth as truth can make it. I fail to see how anyone can quibble with how her character is presented, especially since so much of her excesses drove the plot of our own lives for so long, and hence Miss Austen's account of them. As for Mr. Collins...well, for my part, I think Miss Austen has in all probability let him off easily, in part due to her growing friendship with Charlotte Lucas. They've taken tea together at Hunsford parsonage many times in recent months. Both are blessed with a keen, observing eye and a cool unsentimentality when it comes to expectations about their fellow men. At any rate, I would not worry overmuch that Mr. Collins will be wounded by the portrait -- if he does deign to read it (always remembering that clergymen can't be too careful as regards their reading materials!) I suspect much of it will go over his head.

Indeed, I am pleasantly surprised to find there is such a tender streak of romance lying hidden in Miss Austen's nature. It makes its force felt at various moments of the story, perhaps nowhere more strongly than in the unfolding of my own love story with Mr. Darcy. She sees the humour of our courtship, of course, and doesn't hesitate to lay the worst of us bare for all the world to see. She captured well Darcy's rigid and uneasy attitude amongst strangers and his oh so easily misinterpreted pride, as well as my own passionate prejudices that have oft led me astray into quick and wrongful judgments about others. Darcy and I joked at breakfast this morning that the account might well be called "pride and prejudice" -- they are as prominent characters in her tale as almost any of us full-blooded ones.

Darcy and Bingley come off well in the main, and even Wickham, the charming devil, has not wholly lost his persuasive power in her account. I believe Miss A. felt quite fascinated with our dear brother-in-law Wickham when she first met him, and this was only dispelled when she fell under Mr. Darcy's spell during her time with us in Derbyshire. (I know this pattern well, after all, for I invented it.) I believe it was in listening to my dear Darcy's pained account of Wickham's behavior toward himself and his sister (not to mention ours) that Miss Austen decided that she did in fact, have a story to tell. I distinctly heard her murmur, of the Darcy/Wickham conflict, "now there's a plot point I can hang my bonnet on," or somesuch sentiment.

I frankly enjoy Miss Austen's independent spirit. I believe I would have similar tendencies were I a writer -- after all, it must be much more entertaining to sketch naughtiness and outright villainy than to bring nobility and goodness to vivid life. Do not protest, Jane, I am (mostly) joking. It just seems that most of us have much more familiarity with the former if we spend time truly examining ourselves. I say most because your inner life and outer conduct are cut from the same serene and lovely cloth, but Jane, you are rare indeed. Miss Austen's account should be published if for no other noble purpose than to afford others the chance to meditate on your guilelessness and charity.

But I am sounding like Mary, so will stop. Thank heavens that Miss Austen's tale is not predominantly a moral one! But I am pleased nonetheless that she is able to issue some fine warnings, via her story (which is also our story) against the folly of hasty first impressions, and in favor of the need to seek out truth beyond appearances. Happy woman am I, to have finally learned those lessons!

Kitty is still with us at Pemberley, and seems to be improving both in mind and disposition the longer she is away from the influence of our mother and Lydia. Indeed, she has her eye fixed on the vicar of Lambton, whose parsonage is only a few miles hence. He has no fortune, but is a man of good sense and lively sensibilities, and he seems to enjoy Kitty's company as well. Mr. Darcy and I like him enormously and Darcy has made it known to me that he would not be adverse to settling some money on Kitty if it would encourage this happy alliance. Don't tell Mama yet as the thing is not accomplished, and because I fear she might disapprove. The vicar preaches "ripping sermons" (to quote a young parishioner) and I can only imagine how Mama would call for the smelling salts at the notion of an evangelical enthusiast for a son-in-law!

And now, Jane, I must bid you a fond farewell. I am in receipt of a letter from our friend Elinor Ferrars (nee Dashwood) which I must answer. If you recall, Miss Austen wrote an account of the Dashwood sisters and their suitors as well, before she wrote ours, and Elinor has yet to give her full blessing to the final manuscript, though I believe she likely will soon. I had found Elinor somewhat standoffish at first acquaintance, but she grows on me -- and I have most enjoyed the peek she has given me at their story. Would you believe they had a difficult encounter with a nefarious Wickham-ish charmer too? Alas, I fear the world is full of Wickhams and Collinses -- and that most of us, unfortunately, carry a bit of both of them around inside. One tries to live with as much honesty and integrity as possible, as I see in the example of my dear Darcy each day, but sometimes inconstancy, ambition and silliness must be named for what they are, and even laughed at when the occasion calls for it. In this regard, I believe Miss Austen has done us and the world a great service.

Do come to Derbyshire as soon as you can. I remain, as always...
YOUR LOVING SISTER ELIZABETH

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~befus, 2006



Recommended: Yes

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