It’s rainy and muddy in Austenland right now, and the good people there were thinking of passing the time with a little amateur dramatics when, lo and behold, a wormhole opened up and a copy of the Harry Potter series dropped back in time and into our heroes and heroines laps! While Fanny Price looked on in horror, a fantasy casting frenzy commenced.
Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley: All the heroines wanted to be one of these two. Hermione has the best brains and get the most to do, while Ginny is, of course, the love interest, and feisty in her own right. Emma tried to claim Hermione by pointing out that she read the most, but Lizzie pointed out that making lists of books is not the same as reading them! Also, who sticks up for herself and her friends most in a tight spot? All right, Lizzie, fine, you can be Hermione. Anne Elliot gently reminded the others that Ginny was also a put-upon member of a large family, but Catherine Morland pointed out that she was the only one who played a sport, baseball, so she should be Ginny. . .
Harry Potter: Most of the men made a claim to this, but the ladies agreed that none suited so well as Captain Wentworth. He was dashing, he was a common (not too bright) man who did things, won hearts, stirred up controversy . . .
Ron Weasley: Mr. Darcy disdained being Capt. Wentworth’s sidekick, even for Lizzie’s sake, but Mr. Bingley said he didn’t mind if he did.
Lord Voldemort: Of course, Darcy was attracted by the role. But everyone agreed quietly than it really belonged to his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. And she agreed that it was fitting she should play a noble role.
Professor Albus Dumbledore: Mr. Knightley or Mr. Bennet, for sure, the from-the-side-watching know-it-alls.
Professor Severus Snape: Lizzie laughed, and said surely this role belonged to Mr. Darcy!
Draco Malfoy: Henry Crawford, to be sure. Draco doesn’t get much action, poor boy, but Crawford could identify with his halfhearted redemption.
Professor Gilderoy Lockhart: For sheer daffiness, vanity, and ego, everyone agreed, Sir Walter Elliot should have the honor here. (Mr. Collins would have done, had he been handsome.)
At this point, the ladies’ scuffles over who was to be Ginny Weasley became really quite alarming. Mary Crawford was heard to say that Ginny had always had plenty of boyfriends to choose from, and that therefore she should be Ginny. Then Lydia Bennet proclaimed loudly that she had more, and should be. Mr. Bennet went into one of his rages, and took his whole family back to Longbourn, leaving the others to practice riding their broomsticks in the drawing room and casting spells at the card table.
. . .
Obviously, I have merely scratched the surface here! Readers, what do you think? What obvious character connections have I missed?
Photo credit: Magic wand image ©amanky. Used under Creative Commons licensing.
One of the consultants my company works with is super hot, and all of my colleagues know I think so. I don’t want to date him and have no plans to pursue him; I just like looking at him. However, my colleagues continue to imply that all I really want is a “private meeting” with this guy. How can I get them to see that I’m not the office slut?
I Don’t Even Want to Do It on my Desk
My dear madam,
There is nothing wrong with liking to look at a well-set-up man, especially one who dresses the part. Does this gentleman wear a blue coat? Or a great coat (those do enhance the breadth of the shoulders, you know)? Why some among us—I’m looking at you, Sir Walter, put the mirror down!—think that looks are simply everything. Does this gentleman parade the halls of your workplace in a well-fitting suit? Does he talk condescendingly of his fondness for cottages in the country? These are good signs that he is a mere popinjay, and can be ignored out of hand, even if he is cute.
Of course, your question did not concern the eligibility of the gentleman; in fact you expressed desire for other people to stop speculating on his eligibility and character. Miss Austen apologizes (and turns a blind eye on your more explicit references, even if as much of that does go on in the country as in the town!). I doubt very much that your coworkers really do think you are the office slut, if this is all they have attacked you with. But the rampant desire to speculate about any possible relationship for any young lady has not changed in 1,000 years or more, and is not likely too, either. This gentleman is provoking exactly the reaction in your neighborhood that Mr. Bingley did when he turned up (It is a truth universally acknowledged, etc, etc). You recall how much Miss Bennet enjoyed being teased about him and how tactless, nay, oblivious, most of her relations were in this regard. It is indeed a friend of great delicacy and discernment who can repress his or her natural instincts and treat your feelings with respect. Cherish these people. Regarding the others, I advise philosophy: they will never change. Though a biting remark is tempting it does tend to, uh, come back and bite you. You might also attempt to divert their interest into other channels. Miss Austen leaves it to you as to how scrupulous or honest you wish to be in this endeavor.
For what do we live but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?
pp Jane Austen, signed in her absence