I love E.M. Forster almost as much as I love Jane Austen, and how pleasant it is to discover that he understood the Austenite condition so well himself. He wouldn’t blame us for playing our Austenacious games, or girls (or boys) from being silly about Mr. Darcy, though who knows what he would say about the current spewing of adaptations. But his article shocked me. Listen to what he says about Chapter 2. Here’s the passage in my edition.
“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father. “She times them ill.”
“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty fretfully. “When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”
BUT, Forster says that R.W. Chapman thought that last line didn’t belong to Kitty, since she was going to the ball, and would know when it would be. In the original edition it was on the next line and was said by Mr. Bennet. The printers forgot to indent it, and future editions ran the two paragraphs together. Chapman found other, similar errors.
Everyone in the outside world can say or do what they please to Miss Austen’s books, but inside them, I thought I was safe! I thought I knew what she was trying to tell me. But no, even after R.W. Chapman found these printer’s errors, in 1923, they have not been fixed! I am truly shocked by this. It seems like such a little thing, but who knows what other errors may be lurking? Possibly the scholars who write papers on single phrases used in books, but, like Forster, I believed Austen, and never questioned her.
I first read Pride and Prejudice when I was in seventh grade, and I accepted it as holy gospel. “This is how real people think and act,” I thought. “They are full of irony, they laugh whenever possible, they are thoughtful (except when they’re not).” I didn’t even particularly realize the book was funny until Mr. Fitzpatrick read it a few years ago! He thought it was hilarious, and was disturbed when a guy friend saw the Keira Knightley version and didn’t realize it was supposed to be funny. Talking about Pride and Prejudice with Mr. Fitzpatrick certainly helped me think about it in a new way. And now his mother has read it—I’m really interested to see how her perceptions will have differed from mine. No novel is the same to any two people, is it?
At the same time, it’s always odd when you hear or remember something differently from someone else—Liveblogging Emma highlighted that for me, as Miss Ball and I disagreed on words and actions several times. (Of course, I was always right. 
) Even the 1980 BBC version, which was very faithful, strangely switches around who said what, at times. And it makes one mistake that annoys me all out of proportion. When Lizzy is looking at Mr. Darcy’s portrait at Pemberley, “she thought of his regard . . . ; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.” In the BBC version, she thinks “How stern you look in your portrait! But I remember your warmth, and would soften that look.” Not at all the same thing!
This is a long, rambling kind of post. I guess the point is that I think of Pride and Prejudice (and all Jane Austen’s other books) as real things, not just as somebody’s words. And that, as much as possible, I understand them. Other people may understand them differently, but they are still ours. To suddenly realize, even slightly, that they’re not, and I don’t, is as disturbing as realizing after 20 minutes that my husband and I have been talking about completely different things, and didn’t even know it.
Or am I just being paranoid?
How do the Austenacious sisters torment each other? Let me count the ways . . . No, just look at Miss Ball’s contribution below. That says it all! The sadists among you can then go to the Lol Builder to make your own funny pictures. Meanwhile, I shall be thinking of a comeuppance for Miss Ball!
I know I’m no fun, but I think we’ve established that Jane Austen prequels, sequels, mash-ups, and other literary Photoshoppings make my heart sink and my blood pressure rise. It’s not that I don’t appreciate fandom (heaven knows I appreciate fandom), or that I don’t have a sense of humor about Jane—I do, and anything else would miss the point. This isn’t even a Jane Austen Hates You post; it’s just that, well, I don’t want the Darcys’ sex life play-by-play, and I don’t want to see the Bennet sisters fight monsters (sea, nocturnal blood-sucking, or otherwise), and I don’t want to hear about Jane coping as a swingin’ modern-day vampire looking for love in the big city.
So you’d think my old-lady fists would be shaking full-force over Jane via Bollywood, in the form of Gurinder Chadha’s 2004 remake Bride and Prejudice and the upcoming Emma remake, Aisha.
To which I say, who doesn’t love a good bhangra number?
For me, it’s all a question of basic (if implied) intent. Austen sequels, mash-ups, and the like so often come across as attempts either to paint Jane in a hipper, funnier light—as if she needs the help—or to add to the canon she left behind. The implication is that Jane’s work has no place in contemporary culture if we don’t see it through the familiar lenses of bodice-rippers/Sex and the City/debilitating irony; even straight-up sequels set in Austen’s universe, which are clearly labors of love on the parts of the authors, tend to imply that Jane’s work deserves some kind of follow-up (and, with a brand of guts that I personally could never muster, that they are the one to provide it!). On the other hand, Bollywood Jane is—so far—a work of pure appreciation. In Bride and Prejudice, nobody ever implies that Austen needs changing or supplementing, or that the Indian audience wouldn’t relate to a straight re-telling. There’s no sense that the original novel would be better with a modern-day Indian setting; if anything, it’s the other way around. In fact, the change of scenery and style occurs almost separately from the story, and function as a tribute to the universality of Austen’s themes—as the setting changes, the narrative and key themes remain surprisingly the same.
Besides, Bollywood Jane gives a whole new meaning to the term “choreographed group dance.” I love a ball, indeed:
If Aisha can offer the same thoughtful, affectionate take on Emma, well, bring on the dhol.
Welcome to the seventh night of the Jane Austen Winter Olympics. These Games have already seen some tremendous moments. Who could forget the Short Track Speed Ice Contradancing, with Mr. Elton cutting off Miss Smith in the semifinals, and Mr. Knightley dramatic rescue bringing them both into the finals, before his triumphant gold-medal skate with Miss Woodhouse? Or Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s death-defying tricks and precise execution bringing home the gold in Women’s Conversational Half-Pipe? But I think it’s fair to say that NO event at these Games has received as much as attention as the Mothers’ Snowboard Cross. Four strong contenders on a course that’s already claimed a lot of matchmakers. Here’s Mrs. Fitzpatrick and Dick Button with the call. Mrs. Fitzpatick?
Thanks, Bob. Yes, we do have a very strong field in these finals. In the red jersey you see Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park. She’s a strong competitor, known for letting her temper get the better of her. Look for her to take the early lead in this race. Next to her in the blue jersey is Mrs. Bennet of Longbourne. I think it’s fair to say she wants this race as much as anyone here, and has trained so hard for it ever since her daughter Jane turned 15. She may want it too much, though. She just needs to lay down a nice smooth run, and keep her mouth shut. Bit of a tall order for her, eh Dick?
Indeed, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Now a bit of a dark horse here is Lady Lucas of Lucas Lodge in the black jersey. We don’t know much about this competitor, except that she’s bold and may make a sudden move on the turns, so keep an eye out for her. And rounding out the field in the yellow jersey is Mrs. Gardiner of Longbourne. Now correct me if I’m wrong here, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, but isn’t Mrs. Gardiner originally from Gracechurch Street? Yet she’s competing here for Longbourne?
Yes, that’s right, Dick. Mrs. Gardiner’s own daughters are too young for her to compete for them, so she took Longbourne citizenship recently. A bit of luck for the Bennet girls: Mrs. Gardiner is a strong and wily competitor. She runs a very strategic race. And look for her to capitalize on the others’ mistakes. Bob?
Well, there you have it. Four mothers, all racing for the ultimate prize, an Olympic gold medal of a husband. We’ll be back after this.
[COMMERCIAL BREAK: Ralph Lauren, proud maker of all Olympic wear, both practical long sleeves, and wedding clothes. Visa, go anywhere in the world, Frank Churchill!]
And now we’re back with the Mothers’ Snowboard Cross . . . and they’re on-course! This is for the gold!
Mrs. Bennet faltering in the rhythm section right of the bat, Dick, yet she manages to hold on. Will nothing shut that woman up? And . . . yes, Lady Catherine settles into an early lead with a nice line around the first turn. Her daughter’s weak and unattractive, so she needs to stay out front to avoid any sudden passes by the others. So it’s Lady Catherine in front, followed by Lady Lucas, then Mrs. Gardiner, and Mrs. Bennet bringing up the rear. I think she may have taken herself out of it, Dick!
Longbourne will have to rely on Mrs. Gardiner for now . . . Oh! Sudden burst of speed out of Lady Lucas on that jump—she almost collides with Lady Catherine, but they both stay on the course. And, yes, Mrs. Bennet’s having real trouble in the back—she caught an edge on that turn and went over. It’s all down to Mrs. Gardiner now . . . And, yes, she passes Lady Lucas easily on that turn, nice inside pass there, looks like Lady Lucas lost the pace a bit in her near collision . . . And now the racers can see the bottom of the course! Just a few big jumps and they’re through . . . Lady Catherine still holding her lead. . . OH, and a stunning upset! Lady Catherine flips off Miss Elizabeth in mid-air and misses her landing! Mrs. Gardiner sails in for a smooth gold medal! Here comes Lady Lucas for the silver, and LOOK, HERE COMES MRS. BENNET over the final jump! WHAT an unbelievable comeback!!! Will Lady Catherine get up in time? . . . NO, and it’s a photo finish between Lady Lucas and Mrs. Bennet for the silver! We’ll have to wait for the replay on that. And Lady Catherine is still down—looks like she may really be hurt, we’ll hear from the doctors later, but WHAT an amazing race! So it’s Mrs. Gardiner with the gold, and, yes, she’s choosing Mr. Darcy for Miss Elizabeth, and Mrs. Bennet sneaks past Lady Lucas for the silver . . . looks like she’ll pick up Mr. Bingley for Miss Bennet, no surprise there, and Lady Lucas with the bronze takes Mr. Collins for Miss Lucas. Lady Catherine took herself out of it, so no husband for Miss de Bourgh. Mrs. Fitzpatrick, your final thoughts on the race?
Well, Dick, I’m really impressed with the way Mrs. Bennet recovered from her early mistakes to snag a silver medal for her daughter. And Mrs. Gardiner’s handling of the course was superb overall. It can be so easy to let the other racers push you around, and she really avoided all that. She’s a class act, through and through. Overall an excellent day for the Longbourne family. And I think we’ll see both Longbourne ladies back on the circuit—there are plenty of Bennet daughters to go around! As for Lady Catherine, what can I say? She just did not respect the course and the other racers, and she’s paid for that. We’ll have to wait another four years to see whether Miss de Bourgh will ever get a husband. Bob?
Photo credit:
I just came back from the mall, yo! That’s what you do when visiting the parental units in New Jersey. (And no, despite having grown up here I most certainly do not say “Joisey,” and I say “mall” not “maaauwl.”) And as I was driving home, I was thinking how appropriate it was that I was contemplating what to say about Michael Thomas Ford’s Jane Bites Back this week. The thing is, it reminded me of reading a Janet Evanovich novel. Evanovich’s main character, Stephanie Plum, is a wise-ass bond hunter in Trenton, New Jersey. While “Jane Fairfax,” the 200-and-something-year-old vampire Jane Austen, doesn’t carry a gun or drop f-bombs, she’s still a wise-ass, as is her sidekick assistant who works at her bookstore in upstate New York.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I picked up Jane Bites Back. It sounded a bit cheesy, and there are so many mish-mash Jane Austen Meets Whatever Monster of the Week available now that I could have easily lumped it into that long list and never looked back. But I love vampire stories—from the original Dracula by Bram Stoker to Anne Rice’s books to Buffy the Vampire Slayer to Elizabeth Kostova‘s The Historian. When I was a kid, the next door neighbor would invite us over on a hot summer day, close the curtains, and play old radio broadcasts. The scariest ones always had vampires chasing lost people around abandoned castles. Mesmerizing! And now I’m just a little bit wigged out thinking about it.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah . . . vampire stories. I love them; therefore, I had to read Jane Bites Back. This isn’t a typical vampire story. It’s not scary, nor is it graphic with the blood sucking, and thankfully it’s devoid of Twilight-y teen angst. The characters aren’t particularly deep, and I’m sad to say that Jane Fairfax/Jane Austen is one-dimensional. (Single woman hanging out alone drinks red wine and eats lots of chocolate, is that they best you can do to describe the modern Jane Austen, Mr. Ford? Really?) But I found myself wanting to read more, and I laughed at Ford’s descriptions of the current Jane Austen industry. Actually, that’s probably the best part about the book, as I’m equal parts delighted and mortified with the variety of Austen-related crap, er, odds and ends available these days. The author isn’t taking any of this too seriously. Plus, hey, Jane Austen and other literary figures living among us because Lord Byron can’t keep his fangs to himself—I approve!
Dust off your hash marks, kids, and brush up on your “at” symbols; it’s time to adjust your worldview to include the letter U as both a vowel and a second-person pronoun.
This, of course, can mean only one thing:
Check us out, follow us, and watch us try to express our deep enjoyment of Austen with a donut-themed background and absolutely zero lexically legitimate words whatsoever. Plus nonsense tags and constant accessibility! What could possibly go wrong?
(This is the part where we want to say “We’re on ur phone, using ur 140 characters,” but fear that the reference is simply too ancient to even register, like it’s cuneiform or beta cassettes. Such is the dilemma of the modern Janeite. All your base are belong to us!)
See you on the airwaves, or whatever it is we call them these days.
(P.S. What? Who said that?)
Have you made your Jane Austen fortune cookies yet?
So there’s this new book out called Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough, by Lori Gottlieb. The idea being that lots of single women (especially those over-30 spinsters) have “toxic” romantic-fantasy expectations of a perfect partner, and should give that up to marry. . . someone whose characteristics vary wildly depending on who’s doing the reviews. From the reviews in The Telegraph and Grazia Daily, you get the impression that Gottlieb is advising women grab the first male they see and settle down having babies or something. Dreary.
Naturally, a lot of people have issues with this, along the lines of “married women aren’t necessarily happier than single women” and “why should women feel that marriage (and motherhood) is the ultimate goal?” These are perfectly valid points.
Actually, from this interview at The Happiness Project, Gottlieb says the book “is about finding true love by looking for the RIGHT Mr. Right, by focusing on what’s important in love rather than on things that don’t really matter.” In fact, if you read the interview, the book seems to be Sense and Sensibility recast in a modern light. The lessons of Marianne for the new generation. And apparently the new generation needs those lessons, because they seem to see nothing on the spectrum of marriage between “romantic fantasy perfect partnerships” (whatever that means) and “a partnership formed to run a very small, mundane, and often boring non-profit business.”
The funny thing is that I found all those articles (except the interview) because they all reference Jane Austen. And I am tired of Jane Austen being the peg on which people hang women’s “unrealistic” expectations of romance and marriage. Was she not an eminent realist about happiness in marriage? Don’t Austen heroines always find love with the sweet, thoughtful guy, who coincidentally has quite enough money, thanks, and not with the dashing, devil-may-care, spendthrift heart-flutterers? Jane Austen is ALL ABOUT the depth and not the surface in relationships. And as a happily married woman (everyone wave “hi” to Mr. Fitzpatrick!), I agree with Austen and Gottlieb that happiness in marriage is about understanding each other and agreeing about the world on fundamental levels, not about the laundry list of attributes Marianne and apparently women on dating sites are looking for. Geez, Austen spends hundreds of pages combating this type of Romanticism.
Sure, I know why people blame (or credit?) Jane Austen with the idea that true love exists, accept no substitutions. As Salon points out, this started long before Colin Firth jumped into a pond in a billowy shirt. But I honestly don’t know where they get the idea that she was telling us it would be all wet shirts, all the time, and nothing else. Man, for that, try the Brontës.
Photo credit: ©2010 by Charlene Chong. All rights reserved.
It’s Valentine’s Day this Sunday. Being Jane Austen readers, we’re guessing you feel a complex mixture of happiness and cynicism, yearning for true love and despair that it will really be as shiny as it’s made out to be. What would Miss Austen say about Valentine’s Day? That’s a topic for another day. But guess what—it’s also Chinese New Year’s! This may suggest pink dragons and exploding hearts to some, but ingenious reader Charlene suggests combining the two events with our love of Jane Austen—because who else can console those on both sides of the fence so equally?—to make Jane Austen fortune cookies. (You probably saw that coming.) Homemade fortune cookies are divine and fun to make: you get to play with your food and call it origami. Here is a recipe. You’re on your own re the white chocolate and sprinkles in the photo.
And here, for your delectation, is a file of loving Jane Austen quotations chosen by your dedicated Austenacious literary chefs and formatted for use in fortune cookies. Go forth and rule the destinies of your friends! In bed! And let us know how it all turns out.
Photo credit:
You, too, can meet the man of your dreams. Online. In a Jane Austen Forum. Don't laugh.
We at Austenacious don’t know about you, but we sometimes say to ourselves, “Selves,”—that’s what we go by around Austenacious HQ—”Selves, we do not exist in enough places online.”
(Note: This is a lie. Mrs. Fitzpatrick and Miss Osborne are, I suspect, currently choking on their tea at the enormity of this lie. Apologies, ladies!)
We do, however, occasionally crave some good Janely discussion, right here! and right now!—life can’t be one long Masterpiece liveblogging party (I’m told), no matter how hard we try. I suspect we’re not totally alone with, say, the urge to discuss whether or not Jonny Lee Miller’s Muppet nose improves or detracts from his performance as Mr. Knightley. (Answer: Improves, and I’ll hear no more about it.) Should this be the case, you might check out the forums sponsored by the Jane Austen Centre in Bath, England—they’re an existing community, but the more is apparently the merrier. They’ve specifically welcomed the Austenacious readership, which we thought was kind of them.
In any case, whatever you’re itching to talk about, you’ll find it in the forums: Jane’s works, Jane’s characters, Jane’s characters, adaptations, sequels, relevant actors (for all your sudden-onset OMGFIRTH!!1! needs), and a good old-fashioned “Jane Austen catch-all” thread, for good measure and to make all possible content technically “on topic.”
So if you’d rather be sitting at a table somewhere with a nice sharp pen, a quiet moment, and a beloved sister to address—well, this isn’t exactly that, but surely a nice…key-ey keyboard, a quiet moment, and some good Janeite company is the next best thing?
And cue two young women in front of a TV. (Miss Osborne would have joined them had her health permitted it.) Due to technical difficulties (curse you, Comcast!), Miss Ball and Mrs. Fitzpatrick arrive on the scene ten minutes in. Please supply your own witty dialog for that period.
[Jane Fairfax leaves Donwell secretly.]
Miss Ball: I think Emma’s been running around Salzberg in nothing but some old drapes . . . from 1988. That dress is appalling.
[Mr. Knightley says that Emma might be mistress of Donwell, ha ha ha.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: Hint, hint.
[Emma rants about Miss Bates.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: A bit of foreshadowing, is it?
Miss Ball: For the awkwardness that is to come. Sure.
[Mr. Knightley makes a rude comment about Frank Churchill, but it falls flat.]
Miss Ball: I love how Switzerland is the ends of the earth, instead of . . . the middle of Europe. I feel like, instead, he should backpack through Nepal with like six sherpas (because it’s not like he’s going to carry his own stuff) and listen to a lot of Dave Matthews Band.
Miss Ball: I know beer and cold meats do wonders for my constitution. Especially . . . together?
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: Michael Gambon as Mr. Woodhouse just isn’t right. He doesn’t strike the sort of kindly silliness of Mr. Woodhouse.
Miss Osborne, there in spirit: The real Mr. Woodhouse wouldn’t have pterodactyl arms.
[A green blob—continued technical difficulties, we hope—appears on Mrs. Fitzpatrick's TV just as the party arrives at Boxhill.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: It’s THE BLOB!! From original Star Trek! It’s going to EAT THEM!!
[Frank Churchill inadvertently and singlehandedly chases the entire party away (therefore saving them from a green and blobby death, v. difficult to explain to the pre-NASA set).]
Miss Ball: Frank Churchill, Captain of Awkward Conversation.
[Mr. Knightley yells at Emma.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: He just seems like a blustering schoolboy to me. No dignity. No style!
Miss Ball: I think he sounds like he’s yelling at a pet. Like she’s been scratching on the couch again.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: FAIL, Jonny Lee. FAIL.
[Emma converts to thoughtfulness and grace.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: Look, she’s stepping into the light! I can’t stand it!
[Emma goes to the Bates's.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: I swear Mrs. Bates is a zombie.
Miss Ball: I believe you could write a book about that and make some serious money.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: That is SO five minutes ago, Miss Ball!
[Mr. Knightley thinks about kissing Emma's hand, but doesn't. Miss Ball thinks he was shaking it.]
Miss Ball: The 2005 P&P did that so much better.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: They didn’t do that very well. Especially since you didn’t even get it!
Both: Clearly, we have moved past the time when a man taking a woman’s hand = HE’S GOING TO KISS HER HAND!!! [spontaneous flaily jazz-hands duet]
[Emma wants to reupholster Mr. Knightley's chair (or whatever the kids are calling it these days).]
Miss Ball: …with angels and unicorns, perhaps?
[Mrs. Churchill dies; everybody pretends to be sad while actually forming an emotional conga line.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: That was actually pretty well done—that pretty much sums it up.
[Baby Frank Churchill rides away in his carriage in the past. Again.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: Flashback attack!
[Frank and Jane Fairfax are reunited.]
Miss Ball: I’m sort of disappointed in Jane now. He’s such a douchebag. You can do better, Jane Fairfax! (Governess-hood notwithstanding.)
Frank Churchill: Now for the first time in our lives we can do anything we want!
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: That isn’t a Regency thought in the least—or at least not a Jane Austen thought.
Miss Ball: That’s a relief. Ugh.
[Emma hides behind a shrub, poorly, when Mr. Knightley arrives in the garden.]
Miss Ball: Don’t worry, Emma. . . we’ve all been there.
[Emma and Mr. Knightley walk and chat.]
Miss Ball: Are her long sleeves attached to anything, or are they just. . . sleeves? Because that’s sort of brilliant.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: I actually don’t know. I do know Mrs. Bennet liked them! Kind of a punk look, you think?
Miss Ball: Just add safety pins. I like it.
[Mr. Knightley tries to propose.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: He’s squinting. Why is he squinting?
Miss Ball: No room in those tight pants for his sunglasses.
[Emma bursts into Donwell crying, says she can't marry Mr. Knightley because of her father, and then bursts out again.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: What is this, a French farce? She’s not Lucille Ball, for goodness’ sake!
Miss Ball: A little abrupt, sure, but I think it’s okay. We’re running out of time.
[Mr. Knightley volunteers to move to Hartfield.]
Miss Ball: Mr. Knightley, you’ll never make it with the ladies if you keep telling them your heart is at your house.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: No, no, he means his heart is with Emma! He’s pointing at her!
Miss Ball: Ah, his heart—her—is at his house. Currently. But not forever. Riiiiight.
[Frank Churchill apologizes to Emma.]
Miss Ball: I do not forgive you, Frank Churchill.
[Mrs. Bates speaks.]
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: GASP! The zombie speaks!
Miss Bates: Mother has recovered her voice!
[Emma says goodbye to her father pre-honeymoon.]
Miss Ball: That is one yellow dress. Lucky for her she’s a summer.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: Wait—they’re going on a honeymoon? So they must be married? These quick cuts are making me dizzy!
Miss Ball: I had the same question. Harriet and Robert Martin get married, and Emma and Mr. Knightley take a honeymoon? That’s some set-up.
[Emma rests her head on Mr. Knightley's shoulder.]
Miss Ball: That looks really uncomfortable. Much better after the carriage era.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: They must be going to the seaside.
Emma: Oh! It’s the seaside!
Mrs. Fitzpatrick: I’m freakin’ prescient!
fin
Final thoughts:
The Curmudgeonly Mrs. Fitzpatrick: Well, it had its moments. When they just let the actors speak and feel what Jane Austen wrote, it was fine—though really none of the main parts were convincing to me. But the additions were SO cheesy (Slow-motion flashbacks? Children torn asunder in the rain?) and the transitions were SO film-school (Look, there’s flowers now, it must be spring!), that I couldn’t really believe I was in the story. It’s a hard novel to adapt, but . . . they should have tried harder. Or less hard? It was too forced, and too sloppy for this purist.
The Happy-Go-Lucky Miss Ball: I agree with Mrs. F’s assessment of the hilariously melodramatic editing, but in general, I liked the whole product pretty well—it was certainly modern in feel, but not in a way that generally offended my not-very-strict sensibilities. I especially liked Romola Garai: she makes some fabulous faces, and her ability to both play and acknowledge awkward moments served her well in this particular instance. So, they certainly played fast and loose with the text, but I didn’t mind too much. Also, I sort of like Jonny Lee Miller in hero mode. (Less so in scoldish pet-owner mode.)
Miss Osborne: I ended up watching the rest of Emma this morning, and it almost made up for the earlier installments. With the exception of the sun rising over Emma and the unnecessary flashback of Frank Churchill leaving as a child, this installment was more thoughtful. I finally found myself rooting for Emma—for her emotional growth and the love between her and Mr. Knightley. Knightley, of course, is wonderful (though I think Jonny Lee Miller looks like a muppet when he’s not smiling). Unlike Mrs. F, I didn’t find him blustery in the Box Hill scene. He has every right to scold Emma, and I felt her pain. Hasn’t everyone been scolded at one point or another for doing something they knew was stupid? It hurts when someone you love is rightfully giving you the smack down. Overall, this mini-series was uneven, but the last hour was enjoyable.
