Review of the Annotated "Pride and Prejudice"

“Pride and Prejudice” is such a delightful romantic comedy that Jane Austen afficionados never tire of savoring its literary delights. The character-transforming romance between the sparkling Elizabeth Bennet and the aloof but ultimately heroic Fitzwilliam Darcy and the book’s intriguing and often hilarious cast of secondary players have made “Pride and Prejudice” one of the most beloved classics of English literature.

Although the novel’s basic truths and characterizations are absolutely timeless – as evidenced by the many contemporary versions of the story, including films such as “Bride and Prejudice” and “Bridget Jones’s Diary” -- the first draft of the book was actually written towards the end of the 18th century and finally published in 1813. As such, the text contains occasional language and references which may not be readily understood by 21st century readers.

Enter David M. Shapard’s new annotated version of the novel. Opposite each page of Austen’s text is a corresponding page of notes which not only offers elucidation on antiquated expressions but also presents in-depth expositions of character and plot developments as they unfold.

Of particular fascination are Shapard’s social history clarifications included in the notes. For instance, anyone who has even a passing knowledge of the book knows that Caroline Bingley is determined to captivate and extract a marriage proposal from Darcy and that she sees Elizabeth as a possible rival in that pursuit. So when she invites Elizabeth to “take a turn about the room” in the presence of Mr. Darcy, she does so because she is certain that she can successfully compete with Elizabeth for Darcy’s attention in the arena of graceful walking Shapard’s note gives further insight into this passage by revealing that ladies’ schools during Austen’s time placed an excessive emphasis on elegant movement, some going so far as to utilize a stationary carriage inside the school in order to practice graceful entering and exiting.

The obsequious gratitude that the hilarious Mr. Collins feels towards his patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, is partly due to her having bestowed on him the position of local clergyman so quickly after his ordination. According to Shapard’s informative note, Mr. Collins’ excessive gratitude is not wholly without foundation: only 20 % of clergymen during Austen’s time received a position within five years of their ordination.

From the lovely painting on the front cover (which is actually annotated) to the maps at the book’s end, David Shapard’s beautifully elucidative edition of “Pride and Prejudice” sets the novel perfectly within its historical framework and presents a delightfully valid excuse to plunge into its pages once again.

My Summer with Ernest Hemingway

Yes, we were on the same planet for a couple of years, but I was toddling around the sidewalks of Berwyn, Illinois in diapers when Ernest Hemingway shot himself in Ketchum, Idaho. My summer with him was this past one, the summer that just recently breezed – or rather, whipped – through our muggy streets.

It’s not that I was completely unaware of Hemingway before last summer. For the past three years The Hemingway Foundation has hired me and my husband to sing at their Boxing Day event. Before that, I had a few brief high-school brushes with Hemingway’s writing which left me with the clear, haunting details of a story called A Clean, Well-Lighted Place, the vague recollection of having read The Old Man and the Sea and the distinct memory of some clipped prose describing a hunter named Nick Adams who went camping to soothe an unspoken grief.

These encounters, though somewhat entertaining, were hardly the stuff of solid friendship and so our flimsy acquaintance could hardly have been expected to withstand what came next: my post-college delight in the short stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald and the concomitant knowledge that Hemingway had figuratively kicked his alcoholic friend when he was down. My negative opinion was sealed forever: I root for underdogs, not bullies. Besides, I prefer elegant prose about flappers and rich boys over short sentences describing the detailed actions of misogynistic hunters.

Singing Dickensian Christmas Carols at the Hemingway Birthplace Home for the past three years softened my opinion of Ernest just a bit. Surely, a man born and raised in these lovely rooms must have retained something of their Victorian charm even if he had evolved into someone who placed an equal value on drinking, shooting lions and trading up wives. Should I give him another chance? Alas, nothing in the elegant Boxing Day event – the gracious volunteers, the delicious treats, the fascinating readings, the informative tours, or even the check from the Foundation — brought me one step closer to reading Hemingway. I was still rooting for Fitzgerald and would not crack one book of his foe.

But last summer, I was thrown together with Ernest in earnest and it was time to give the man and the writer a fair appraisal. Two of my children were in need of volunteer hours and the Hemingway Foundation – always looking for volunteers – came to the rescue. I decided to go along for the ride. What did I discover?

That people come from all over the world to visit the Hemingway Museum on any given day but that very occasional groups of American women – who react with marked suspicion to explanations of ticket pricing – come only to use the bathroom. That the Hemingway Archives holds some very interesting materials which present even more interesting volunteer opportunities. That Hemingway loved cats. That Hemingway’s mother, Grace, was a founding member of the Oak Park Art League (another lovely, volunteer-friendly locale we discovered this summer). That someone should write a biography of Grace Hall Hemingway. That anyone who loves cats can’t be all bad. That watching Jack and Patrick Hemingway cut up while answering audience questions (“Roundtable Discussion,” July 21, 1999) causes the viewer to nearly sense the gregarious presence of their father. That the MIT students who sit under the lectures of author Joe Haldeman – the designated speaker at last summer’s Hemingway birthday party – are very fortunate. That Howard Hawks obviously didn’t have Hemingway’s novel To Have and To Have Not in mind when he created the film of the same title. That although Catherine Barkley, the female protagonist of A Farewell to Arms, was based on Hemingway’s first love, Agnes von Kurowsky, she also bears a striking resemblance to Hemingway’s first wife, Hadley. That Hemingway was apparently regretting Hadley decades later when he wrote the beautiful memoir A Moveable Feast. That I’m not certain of the exact grammatical implications in beginning umpteen consecutive sentences with the same word.

So I’ll stop and say that I finally discovered what all the fuss was about. Hemingway had a passion for writing that was matched only by his passion for living, an author whose enormous characters often blurred the line between autobiography and fiction. So what if I still prefer Fitzgerald? Hemingway’s writing, although in a completely different style, is at least as good, and his output ten times that of his doomed friend. If Hemingway’s flawed personality often caused pain to others, he was equally adept at making them laugh. And read.

The Ernest Hemingway Foundation, keeper of the Oak Park branch of the flame, is just down the street. Check them out.

(This article was originally published in Oak Park’s Wednesday Journal, fall of 2007.)

A Plug for the William Hurt "Jane Eyre" in Which I (Briefly) Compare and Contrast Four Rochesters

(This was my very first Amazon review, written in 2003).

I have been a Jane Eyre fan since high school and have seen most of the adaptations. This one is my favorite. Why? Most importantly, this is the only one with a "plain" Jane, something that is absolutely fundamental. Joan Fontaine and Suzanna York are both gorgeous, Samantha Morton is very pretty and Zelah Clark is cute. When the book was published in 1847, creating a plain heroine was unheard of, but Charlotte Bronte felt strongly about her heroine's looks and the book became a phenomenal best-seller. Despite plain-Jane's best-seller status, most 20th/21st-century film adaptations still can't handle the idea of an unattractive heroine. This film was an exception.

Secondly, the age gap between Rochester and Jane in this film is just as it should be: 20 years. Most of the other actors representing this couple (excepting Morton-Hinds) look approximately the same age, while William Hurt and Charlotte Gainsbourg don't even look like they belong together, a crucial plot point. 

Thirdly, this film features a few scenes and lines taken directly from the novel that I haven't seen in any other adaptations. For instance, Jane realizes Rochester is in the garden (just before he declares his love) because she smells cigar smoke. To have William Hurt puffing on a cigar at this point in the film is an authentic touch. There are many other such tidbits in this film that I haven't had the pleasure of encountering since I read the book.

Of course, given the time limit of this movie, there is some unavoidable tinkering with the plot line. If you want more of the actual text and plot, watch the Timothy Dalton version, but try to keep William Hurt in mind while you watch it. His good looks are toned down and he manages to be the most compelling Rochester I have yet to see on film. Timothy Dalton is tolerable in his portrayal but too thin, handsome, and too high strung; his acting is sometimes difficult to watch. Hurt's portrayal is also far superior to the one actor with the closest physical resemblance to Rochester: Orson Welles, whose performance is a string of absurd screaming fits. Watching Cirian Hinds' portrayal is like getting too near a snake pit or a steaming pot of boiling oil; he's way too tortured and it's not a pleasant sight. Yes, Rochester was a tortured man, but he usually kept it in check and below the surface. The nuances of this complicated character are lost on most of the actors who have attempted to play him, except, in my opinion, William Hurt, who brings to his performance all the irony and subtlety the others are sorely lacking.

Although the superiority of this film can be measured by the plainness of its leading characters, I must conclude by saying that it is cinematically lush and includes a gorgeous soundtrack.

Short Review of the Timothy Dalton "Jane Eyre"

(This was an early Amazon review, written in 2004).

If you are looking the most accurate adaptation of "Jane Eyre," this is it. It's got everything from the book that the screenwriters could pack into four hours. However, like all of the BBC productions that I've seen, this looks like it was filmed with a video camera. I absolutely love the book, but part of me also loves film and this is so low budget that there's not really much action or even movement during certain scenes. People stand or sit in one spot for long periods of time spouting words -- beautifully exact words, mind you -- making certain aspects of the film a visual bore.

Speaking of visuals: Timothy Dalton is skinnier and taller than Rochester is supposed to be. Zelah Clarke is short, but way too filled out and her character is too perky; she is supposed to be outwardly suppressed, though inwardly intense. And these leads are supposed to be 20 years apart -- Dalton and Clark look to be about the same age. That being said, there is some great chemistry between them; the passion between Jane and Rochester -- the focal point of the story -- is absolutely palbable in this adaptation.

No other "Jane Eyre" film will give you so much accurate dialogue, straight out of the book and no other adaptation (that I've seen) has the Rochester-as-gypsy scene or an accurate portrayal of the River's family and Jane's relationships with them. It's definitely worth adding to your adaptation collection.

A Short Review of the Cirian Hinds "Jane Eyre"

(This was an early Amazon review, written in 2003).

Cirian Hinds and Samantha Morton are wonderful actors, but why didn't the screenwriters even glance at Charlotte Bronte's book while they wrote this screenplay? It was a very strange experience to see some of my favorite characters of literature saying and doing things that weren't even remotely connected to the story. Rochester screaming at Jane to leave Thornfield? Jane and Rochester shopping downtown for wedding clothes and "bumping into" Blanche Ingram? I don't think so! Not only did the screenwriters make up entirely new scenes, the dialogue in familiar scenes was often totally unrecognizable. I watch film adaptations to see my favorite characters and scenes fleshed out, not given a major overhaul.

Two things they got right -- the age difference and chemistry between Rochester and Jane (although Samantha Morton is too pretty. Come on! She can't be pretty Harriet Smith in the A&E version of "Emma" and plain-Jane Eyre in this movie!) If you just like to watch good acting, you might like this. But if you, like me, are a fan of the book, this is a very jolting and unpleasant ride.

"The End of the Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe's Cat (from "Poetry for Cats" by Henry Beard)

This particular cat-related spoof of Poe's "The Raven" is my favorite, I think. Might have been Henry Beard's too, as he placed the illustration on the cover of his hilarious book!

On a night quite unenchanting, when the rain was downward slanting,
I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for.
Tipsy and a bit unshaven, in a tone I found quite craven,
Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door.
"Raven's very tasty," thought I, as I tiptoed o'er the floor,
"There is nothing I like more."

Soft upon the rug I treaded, calm and careful as I headed
Towards his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore.
While the bard and birdie chattered, I made sure that nothing clattered,
Creaked, or snapped, or fell, or shattered, as I crossed the corridor;
For his house is crammed with trinkets, curios and weird decor -
Bric-a-brac and junk galore.

Still the Raven never fluttered, standing stock-still as he uttered,
In a voice that shrieked and sputtered, his two cents worth -
"Nevermore."
While this dirge the birdbrain kept up, oh, so silently I crept up,
Then I crouched and quickly leapt up, pouncing on the feather bore.
Soon he was a heap of plumage, and a little blood and gore -
Only this and not much more.

"Oooo!" my pickled poet cried out, "Pussycat, it's time I dried out!"
Never sat I in my hideout talking to a bird before;
How I've wallowed in self-pity, while my gallant, valiant kitty.
Put an end to that damned ditty - then I heard him start to snore.
Back atop the door I clambered, eyed that statue I abhor,
Jumped - and smashed it on the floor.

Humorous Narration from "Emma"

We all love the cinematic adaptations, certainly, but one particular joy of reading Jane Austen's original material is the sharp wit often found in her narration, something that is often lost in the transformation of novel to screen. Here are some gems I rediscovered during a recent re-read of "Emma."

In chapter three, Austen describes Mrs. Goddard's school (where Harriet Smith received her education) as "a real, honest, old-fashioned boarding-school, where a reasonable quantity of accomplishments were sold at a reasonable price, and where girls might be sent to be out of the way, and scramble themselves into a little education, without any danger of coming back prodigies."

In chapter 10, Emma and Harriet meet Mr. Elton on the road and Emma contrives to allow them some time alone, hoping that Mr. Elton will say something that will reveal his romantic intentions towards Harriet. But alas, "Emma experienced some disappointment when she found that he was only giving his fair companion an account of the yesterday's party at his friend Cole's, and that she was come in herself for the Stilton cheese, the North Wiltshire, the butter, and celery, the beetroot, and all the desert."

The opening sentence of chapter 22: "Human nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting situations, that a young person, who either marries or dies, is sure of being kindly spoken of."

Opening sentence of chapter 29: "It may be possible to do without dancing entirely. Instances have been known of young people passing many, many months successively without being at any ball of any description, and no material injury accrue either to body or mind . . ."

Last sentence of chapter 36: "Mr. Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile; and succeeded without difficulty, upon Mrs. Elton's beginning to talk to him."

In chapter 39, after the incident with Harriet and the gypsies, when Harriet is safetly at Hartfield, Austen records Mr. Woodhouse's reaction thus: "Poor Mr. Woodhouse trembled as he sat, and, as Emma had forseen, would scarecely be satisfied without their promising never to go beyond the shrubbery again. It was some comfort to him that many inquiries after himself and Miss Woodhouse (for his neighbours knew that he loved to be inquired after), as well as Miss Smith, were coming in during the rest of the day; and he had the pleasure of returning for answer, that they were all very indifferent; which, though not exactly true, for she was perfectly well, and Harriet not much otherwise, Emma wouild not interfere with. She had an unhappy state of health in general for the child of such a man, for she hardly knew what indisposition was; and if he did not invent illnesses for her, she would make no figure in a message."

In chapter 42, during the strawberry outing at Donwell Abbey, Mrs. Elton leads the way and dominates the conversation thus:

" . . . Mrs. Elton, in all her apparatus of happiness, her large bonnet and her basket, was very ready to lead the way in gathering, accepting, or talking. Strawberries, and only strawberries, could now be thought or spoken of. 'The best fruit in England--everybody's favorite--always wholesome. These the finest beds and finest sorts. Delightful to gather for oneself--the only way of really enjoying them. Morning decidedly the best time--never tired--every sort good--hautboy infinitely superior--no comparision--the others hardly eatable--hautboys very scarce--Chili preferred--white wood finest flavour of all--price of strawberries in London--abundance about Briston--Maple Grove--cultivation--beds when to be renewed--gardeners thinking exactly different--no general rule--gardeners never to be put out of their way--delicious fruit--only too rich to be eaten much of--inferior to cherries--currants more refreshing--only objection to gathering strawberries the stooping--glaring sun--tired to death--could bear it no longer--must go and sit in the shade.'

Such, for half an hour, was the conversation . . ."

SPOILER ALERT FOR THOSE NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE DENOUMENT OF "EMMA"!

After Emma receives a welcome proposal in chapter 49 . . .

"What did she say? Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does."

And Mr. Knightley's opinion of Frank Churchill, though never actually positive, undergoes the following transformation after Knightley's proposal to Emma is accepted:

"He had found her agitated and low. Frank Churchill was a villain. He heard her declare that she had never loved him. Frank Churchill's character was not desperate. She was his own Emma, by hand and word, when they returned into the house; and if he could have thought of Frank Churchill then, he might have deemed him a very good sort of fellow."

MORE SPOILERS!

As Emma and Mr. Knightley, now an engaged couple, enter Hartfield to greet Mr. Woodhouse . . .

"Poor Mr. Woodhouse little suspected what was plotting against him in the breast of the man whom he was so cordially welcoming, and so anxiously hoping might not have taken cold from his ride. Could he have seen the heart, he would have cared very little for the lungs . . ."