"But for my own part, if a book is well-written, I always find it too short." - Austin
My dearest husband,
I shall now endeavor to explain to you why Jane Austin’s writing is not, as you so disrespectfully say, “woman porn.” And by this, you mean nothing of a sensual nature, but of a woman’s inclinations for romance and happy fluff, where there is little intellectual substance and always illogically happy endings.
A baseless conjecture! From where, pray tell, does such an opinion originate?
Jane Austin couched her scathing social commentary on the injustices of gender and social class inside well-written and engaging stories. She offers spectacular insight into the psychological worlds of her characters and their continued development. She is not, in my humble opinion and as some assert, a feminist writer, exalting the female sex above their “weaker” counterparts; rather, through the wit and intelligence of her protagonists, she proves that women deserve their equal and just place in society.
Yes, Darcy eventually finds Elizabeth and Edward confesses his love for the homely and underestimated Fanny, but I assert that happy endings create enjoyable reading and has elevated the esteemed Austin above her more cynical contemporaries, like the Bronte sisters, whose words I read with slightly less pleasure and significantly less humor.
What would Austin say of the type of insecure masculinity that scoffs at a man’s “weakness” in displays of emotion or vulnerability? She may jest that such is a fragility of the mind, for the truly educated man is a self-aware man in full possession of his emotions and faculties. But she was not insensitive to the natural weaknesses of either sex. (Captain Wentworth in Persuasion ought to have spared himself two hundred pages of heart-rending drama if he could only have understood that of course Anne Elliot still loved him! For it is the curse of a woman, against all reason, to love the longest, declares Anne.) But men are not alone in Austin’s estimation as having indiscretions of judgment. Austin reserves the most silly and impetuous of characters for women who trust in the follies of their heart and emotions at the expense of their brain. I daresay she is more a philosopher than a romantic.
And it is quite fortunate that we no longer live in such a high society. My own mother would not have parted with me for less than five-thousand pounds per year- a modest fortune! Especially in union with a penniless clergyman, owning that I had no inherited fortune and societal connections of little consequence. How fortuitous now in these more progressive times that I may contribute to our family “fortune” through my own humble endeavors - and even receive your land upon your death! Good heavens, how generous is our government!
Certainly, Austin is an education in nineteenth century propriety – and also into the complexity of human relationships with all the accompanying virtues and vices, the reading of which may entice a man to cultivate a deeper understanding of the human condition, for Austin was truly an expert where most are not.
For we are each entitled to our own opinion, and it is feeble to think that one’s differing opinion endangers the other. I only implore you that such opinions be formed upon reason; the application of which could only be modified through education.
I feel so strongly on the subject that should you not endeavor to educate yourself (by reading Pride and Prejudice ASAP) that I will meet you in the kitchen upon the morrow with nothing more than cold civility. We shall take our coffee together passing few words - despite my obvious and unabashed love for unnecessary verbosity.
Should you, however, take me up on this challenge, I shall hand you a book with utmost alacrity!
Affectionately yours,
R
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(This conversation was fictional, though I have challenged Chris to read P&P....)
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