It’s a quiet weekend night at Austenacious HQ (East). Miss Ball sits in silence, embroidering her Mr. Darcy Che Guevara chair seat covers and dreaming of men in top boots with well-stocked trout ponds and a passion for the working man.
F1rthygdness129: I’m so annoyed right now! I’m finally almost finished re-reading Sense & Sensibility, and the ending is ridiculous!
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: How so?
F1rthygdness129: They’re all totally pimping out Marianne to Colonel Brandon!
F1rthygdness129: “They each felt his sorrows and their own obligations, and Marianne, by general consent, was to be the reward of all.” The freakin’ REWARD of all. They all want Marianne to marry Brandon, and he deserves to have the girl he wants; therefore, of course she should marry him. WTF, mate?
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: Yeah, somehow my entire memory of the end stops with Elinor’s freak-out. Is that really how it goes down? Way to mentally fanfic a happier ending for Marianne, self.
F1rthygdness129: And it goes on: “With such a confederacy against her—with a knowledge so intimate of his goodness—with a conviction of his fond attachment to herself, which at last, though long after it was observable to everyone else, burst on her—what could she do?”
F1rthygdness129: WHAT COULD SHE DO? She could make up her own mind and heart and think for herself!
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: Somehow I think that if somebody had said that to Jane herself, there would have been words.
F1rthygdness129: (Totally unrelated, I just took a ginger cake out of the oven, and I’m dying for it to cool down so I can eat some. Mrs. F is going to be lucky if there’s any left for her when she comes over tomorrow night.)
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: This is like the world’s worst diet. “There’s cake…three thousand miles away. If you want it, WALK FOR IT.” Heh.
F1rthygdness129: Eventually, she really does fall in love with him, so it’s not like it’s TOTAL crap. “Marianne could never love by halves; and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, as it had once been to Willoughby.” But still…this wasn’t how I remembered the ending.
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: Me, neither, but I…kind of like it? I mean, not the practically arranged marriage part, but the part where she learns the subtleties of love through a slow-burn relationship. Especially if Colonel Brandon doesn’t suddenly take off his unsexy glasses, shake out his hair, and become somebody he clearly isn’t.
F1rthygdness129: Heh. Did you ever watch Smallville? I was all about Michael Rosenbaum as Lex Luthor. But mostly I watched because the TWoP reviews were HI-larious! But I digress. At least Austen reminds us that Willoughby is still a big douchebag.
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: …Apparently the great Internet spell-checker in the sky doesn’t think “douchebag” is a word.
F1rthygdness129: When he shows up and talks to Elinor (as Marianne is on her death-flu-bed), Elinor finds herself feeling sorry for Willoughby. And eventually everyone sort of softens toward him. But on the last page of the book, we’re told that Willoughby—despite knowing that he screwed it all up—still finds plenty of enjoyment in his activities, marriage, and life in general. So despite his sort-of redemption, Austen takes him down a peg. Yay for that!
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: And that’s really all we need: to rightfully hate the douchey guy.
F1rthygdness129: That, and cake.
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: And cake.
F1rthygdness129: Speaking of which…
LadyCatherinedeBlerg: …Yeah. Priorities. I’ll see you later.