Austen & Me, Then & Now

So yesterday was Jane Austen’s birthday in New Zealand. And today is Jane Austen’s birthday in most other places. Therefore, this post is still valid.

Now that we’ve got that disclaimer out of the way, we can move on. As a way of celebrating Austen’s birthday, I decided to write this completely self-indulgent post. I love looking back on books and authors I love(d) and see how my feelings have changed. Of course, I still adore Austen. She is the kind of aunt that everyone wants – witty, wise and totally ok with letting you have a bit of fun without ratting you out to the parents.

But my feelings for some of her characters have undergone changes over the years, and it always interests me how books do that. Or rather, I guess, it’s the books staying the same, and you changing. Anyways, without further ado, let’s flick through her novels, shall we? (Be warned, here be spoilers.)

Pride and Prejudice

Then: When I first came across P&P, I was maybe fourteen or fifteen. I found it boring and dull, and I’m pretty sure I called Lizzie silly. Also I remember proclaiming this very loudly in a library so I can’t believe I’m still alive to tell the tale. Not to mention I hadn’t even read the novel, yet. So this judgement was being passed with nothing to stand on. What a brat.

Now: I still think Lizzie is silly at times, but for completely valid reasons (I mean, taking the word of Wickham as truth when she barely knows him? Not thinking it was weird that someone’s willing to divulge their life story, dirty laundry and all, after you’ve just met them? Not to mention Wickham bailing on the Netherfield ball, despite his If-Darcy-wants-to-avoid-me-then-he’ll-have-to-stay-away-from-the-ball bravado). Of course, now I love this novel, and everyone in it. And if not love, then at least love to laugh at everyone in it.

Sense & Sensibility

Then: When I first read this, I admired Elinor and thought she was incredibly brave and selfless, hiding her feelings and taking care of her family. Also, I couldn’t fathom why she liked Edward Ferrars. He was so meek! So much so that I often referred to him as a Wet Rag.

Now: I don’t call Edward a Wet Rag anymore. Much. It took me awhile, but it dawned on me that it was Edward’s principles that made him stand by his promise to Lucy despite falling in love with Elinor later. Even when he realized what a cow completely different person Lucy was to the facade she presented, he knew she was relying on her. Abandoning women after he’s given them their word is just not what Edward Ferrars does.

As for Elinor, I now think that she was having a little too much fun in playing the martyr. Perhaps fun isn’t the right word. I still think she’s brave, but it helps to share your problems, at least partially, if you aren’t the type to confide in anyone. No one ever benefited from bottling anything up.

Also Elinor was far too lenient with Lucy. Surely there were ways she could have extricated herself from their little tête-à-têtes. It’s almost as if Elinor was a little masochistic. She says to Marianne, “I have enjoyed all the punishments of an attachment, and none of the advantages”, but it seems to me much of the punishment is invited by Elinor herself.

Mansfield Park

Then: I didn’t think much of this one other than that it was super boring, and that Fanny was incredibly dull, if to be pitied. Oh, and I couldn’t deny how brave she was.

Now: To be fair, my view point hasn’t changed all that much. But I can better appreciate Fanny’s resilience when it comes to sticking to her principles, especially with everyone she knows disapproving of her choice. I think I now understand more deeply how hard it can be to be true to yourself when those closest to you are trying to persuade you to do the opposite. It shows immense strength of character, and is certainly admirable. Still not convinced about that Edmund guy, though.


Then: When I first read this novel I was besotted with Anne and Frederick’s story. Young lovers separated for eight long years, throughout which they continued to love another? Constancy! That beautiful and rare thing, and it was all I saw.

Now: Well, now…I have to “tsk” at Frederick’s impulsive actions. After all, Anne wasn’t rejecting him, only suggesting that they postpone their plans until he was better situated. Granted he was young, and couldn’t take the sting of rejection. But then, to return later, and behave like a jerk of the highest order and shove every flirtation in her face? As if Anne had committed some heinous crime. I used to think he was my favorite romantic, but I’ve come to realize that while theirs is my favourite romance (I’m still a sucker for it, I admit), Frederick is far from being the ideal romantic hero.

Northanger Abbey

Then: I adored his story. It’s such a fun romp, and Catherine is a complete fangirl. Also, who can resist the devastating charm of Henry Tilney, whose hobbies including dancing, the science of smirking, and discussing muslin?

Now: I pretty much still feel the same way. Except now I wonder whether Henry falling for Catherine’s naivete and her unabashed adoration of him is enough of a foundation on which to begin a relationship. I suppose it’s a lot more than other couples at the time would have had to start with.


Then: I found Emma to be insufferable. At the start, she isn’t so bad, but as time goes on she become more and more … monstrous in a way. It’s like watching Frankenstein’s monster wreak havoc. If the monster was interested in matchmaking and manipulating the lives of those around them. I thought she was lucky to have someone like Knightley around her, who was perhaps the only one in her circle who wasn’t afraid to point out her flaws.

Now: I still find Emma insufferable, but I’m also a little fond of her. I suppose everyone goes through that stage where they believe they don’t need to be told anything, and that they know exactly what they’re doing. Emma’s just a much more forthright person, so all her opinions manifest into real-life catastrophes for those around here. In any case, it makes for an entertaining read. Plus, Knightley’s become my favourite Austen hero – there’s something to be said for the devastating combination of common sense and a healthy sense of humour.


Looking back, I can see how my tastes have changed as I matured more. I think I’ve grown more understanding of the characters in some ways, but perhaps become more judgmental in other ways. What can I say? To judge is human.

Let me know about your Austen experiences. I’d love to hear them. She’s had such a wide ranging influence that it’s always interesting to hear how differently she’s interpreted. (And don’t worry, I can handle criticisms.)

"Northanger Abbey" by Jane Austen


Dear Reader,

It’s quite amazing, isn’t it, the difference a second impression can make?
The first time I read “Northanger Abbey”, I found Catherine to be a little boring, the plot to be a little forgettable and the Thorpe clan to be heartless little pricks, the lot of them.
Reading “Northanger Abbey” a second time left my feelings unchanged on that last point – on the first two, however, they had undergone a distinct transformation. Catherine no longer seemed boring – only endearing in her innocence, naiveté, and ingenuity. And while the plot wasn’t as intricate or well-developed as Austen’s other novels, I can wager that I won’t be forgetting it anytime soon. The novel lacks the substance and polish of her other works, but it will still hold a place on my bookshelf as it only serve to reveal yet another aspect of Austen’s character. And what Austen fan can resist such temptation? Not this one, reader.
I’m always a little surprised at the change of feelings I undergo regarding Austen’s novels. It seems I’m always unimpressed with Austen the first time around, while the second reading leaves me fawning over her creations and execution. This is also true of “Pride & Prejudice.  I think I’ll just have to chalk that up to my slowly developing brain.
I relished this reading of “Northanger Abbey” as it had been quite awhile ago I last read it. And as I wasn’t too impressed by Catherine and her story at the time, I’d forgotten much of the interactions that take place between the characters. I have to say that made for a novel reading experience for me; novel because it felt as if I was reading an Austen for the first time, and as any Austen fan knows that with only six of her novels to drool over, this is a rare experience and one to be cherished. 
It was so enjoyable for me, made even more enjoyable by Henry Tilney. Now he’s no Mr. Darcy or Captain Wentworth, but he’s oh so attractive in his own way and bless me if the man isn’t snarky! (A snarky Austen hero? Be still my beating heart!) He was by far my favorite character in the novel. I absolutely loved his sense of humor, and found myself able to relate to his general silliness and playful sarcasm. I had a smile on my face every time he walked onto the page.
As for Catherine, while she is not as impressive as Austen’s other heroines, she does manage to hold her own with a strength that is quite admirable. I spent the first half the novel cringing at Isabella and John’s ministrations, and Catherine’s blindness to them. And if I wasn’t cringing, then I was worried that Catherine wouldn’t be able to fend off the Thorpes and would allow their manipulations to estrange her from the Tilneys forever. I was so afraid for her! But, she managed to surprise me and stand strong against the combined forces of John, Isabella and even her own brother James (who by the way, displayed far too little sense to please me). Catherine is definitely the naive, fresh-faced heroine – not altogether a bad combination, except when she’s jumping to the most ridiculous conclusions based on the flimsiest of evidence. Her thought process when condemning General Tilney was a little painful to read – something which Austen intended, no doubt. There was a point when I wanted to whack the girl over the head and tell her to open her eyes. Thankfully Henry Tilney was there do that for me (minus, the whacking the head part). 

The secondary characters are also present, in all their usual Austenian splendor. Ever wondered if there is a woman to rival Mrs. Bennet in ridiculousness? Then Mrs. Allen is the woman for you – that woman talks of nothing but muslins, and I found her very self-absorbed. At least, part of Mrs. Bennet’s silliness springs from her desire to see her daughters well-settled. Not so with Mrs. Allen; she is childless, and she might as well be husbandless and friendless for all the care she bestows them. She manages to manipulate any conversation so that no matter what you were discussing before, you always end up with MUSLINS. There. That rant alone should be enough to convince you how realistically Austen is able to draw her characters (realistic enough for me to start shuddering every time Mrs. Allen walks onto the scene).

Overall, this is a quick, enjoyable read with plenty of opportunities for some chuckles, a bit of romance, and a dolloping of Austen’s snarky wit. Need I say more? 
3.5 out of 5 Japanese cabinets. 
  Lady Disdain