Searching for Captain Wentworth by Jane Odiwe

Despite the appearance of grey cloud, briefly overhead, the sun decided to challenge the densest vapor, evaporating all into whipped confections like floating meringues in the cobalt sky. The sisters returned. Jane's mood was bright, but if anything she was overly talkative and I wasn't completely convinced that she was as happy as she appeared. She sat down a little way in front, looking out a the view across Bath. I watched Cassandra reach inside her basket producing a pocket sketchbook, a pencil, a bottle of water and a small box of paints.

"Do not move, Jane," she called. "I shall picture you for posterity ... a portrait of unwearied contemplation."

"Just as long as you do not paint my face!" Jane called, turning her back to us, arranging her dress and striking a pose.

"I would not dare ... I know how much you dislike sitting for me. No, I shall not ask you to turn. I shall capture the folds in the back of your gown instead and paint your elegant bonnet."

With swift strokes of her pencil, Jane's figure was outlined. Dressed in turquoise blue with her bonnet strings undone, she sat upon the grass, one neat little foot poking out from under her gown, her hand resting upon her knee. Only the most tantalizing curve of her cheek was displayed so it was impossible to guess her expression or sense any emotion. After a few minutes, she protested at sitting still for so long. Ignoring her sister's request to sit for five minutes longer, she was on her feet in a second and came over to my side. Ever restless, Jane held out her hand to me.

Cassandra Austen's portrait of her sister, Jane.

I begin my review of Jane Odiwe's newest book, Searching for Captain Wentworth, with this quote from the beginning of Chapter 23 because it is the kind of stuff to make a Janeite weep. I was already entranced by this novel when I came to this scene, having stayed up way past the time I ought to have already been asleep in order to read it, but this moment overwhelmed me. To be a fly on the wall when Cassandra Austen painted her enigmatic portrait of Jane! This book is as close as one will ever get.

I've read fictionalized accounts of Jane Austen before, but usually I find such portrayals disappointing. The best I came across prior to this book was Janet Mullaney's Jane and the Damned, but as Austen is a vampire in that novel, though a very engaging one, all sense of the historical figure gets submerged by fantasy. Not so here. Ms. Odiwe has brought my favorite writer to life in a way I have seen no one else accomplish, endowing her with nervous energy, a rebellious tongue, and infinite charm. She is just as I like to imagine her, and it was an absolute joy to spend three hundred pages in her presence.

But this book isn't about Jane Austen. The main character, Sophie Elliot, is a modern woman and an aspiring writer. After a bad breakup, she seeks refuge in the house her family has owned in Bath since the 18th century. Quickly discovering how she can pass from her own time into the Regency Era, she inhabits the body of her ancestor and namesake, who just so happens to live next door to the Austen family. At first her experiences terrify her, but Sophie finds the desire to return to the past irresistible, and even when she tries to remain in one time or the next, happenstance intervenes to send her hurtling back. One of the biggest lures of the 19th century is her growing friendship with Charles Austen, who is visiting his family while on leave from the Navy, but how can she allow herself to fall in love with a man who has been dead for two hundred years?

Ms. Odiwe's version of Cassandra's portrait

As I have read other novels featuring Austen as a character, so have I read Austenesque books involving time travel. Ms. Odiwe's stab at the genre is as good as the best of these, beautifully depicting a historical time and place. My husband and I (both confirmed food geeks) have an ongoing discussion regarding the value of sauces, and so I particularly got a kick out of this passage:

I chanced to look up from the plate of food that I wasn't entirely certain about. Everything had arrived on the table at once. Arranged symmetrically on white gilded Wedgewood with a laurel motif, the mahogany table gleamed under candlelight, bearing plates of salmon with bulging, glassy eyes, jellied tongue glistening with gelatine, Florentine rabbits complete with heads and furry ears, oily mackerel that stared at me balefully from my plate. Was it my imagination or was the green gooseberry preserve that covered it doing more to disguise the fact that the fish had not seen the sea for quite some time?

Though the food be rancid, there is so much to relish in this book! Truly something for everyone, Searching for Captain Wentworth beautifully combines echoes of Persuasion with paranormal fantasy and history. Reality interposes as well. Ms. Odiwe has been championing The Rice Portrait of Jane Austen (featured on the book's cover) on her blog for some time now, and the painting itself plays a role in her plot. Her depiction of Jane Austen also seems inspired by it, as in this first description of the authoress: "The girl whose broad smile reached her twinkling eyes had round rosy cheeks like a painted doll and unruly chestnut curls dancing under the brim of her bonnet in the breeze." Ms. Odiwe's novels usually feature artwork and very appropriately, as Ms. Odiwe is the artist behind some of the most touching Austen inspired renderings I have seen. One of my favorites is her version of Cassnadra's portrait, in which she shows Jane glancing back at us. This book is like that painting, provinding a tantalizing glimpse of Jane. Paintings like Cassandra's watercolor and The Rice Portrait provide a foundation for Ms. Odiwe's story, bridging the distance between past and present.

Cassandra & Jane Austen, imagined by Ms. Odiwe

If you have not had the pleasure of reading Ms. Odiwe's books, let me recommend them to you with enthusiasm. I have loved each of her novels, from Lydia Bennet's Story (one of the first Austenesque books I ever read, which is why I never reviewed it on this blog, even though it is amongst my favorites) and Willoughby's Return (which was one of my first reviews) to Mr. Darcy's Secret. Each is an entirely different undertaking from the next, and  is a remarkable addition to an already diverse body of work. I cannot wait to find out in what manner Ms. Odiwe will delight us next! 

A Mixed Up Mashup: Finding Hunsford

Introduction / In the Rose Garden / Tea with George / The Ladies at Longbourn

 
Mr. Darcy hurried beside Bingley towards Longbourn, quite forgetting his purpose as he rushed towards where he hoped Miss Elizabeth Bennet might be found. He could feel the letter still in his breast pocket, the slight friction it created a constant reminder of his disappointment and the agony suffered in its writing. But if she were there, how would he ever be able to deliver it? It was impossible. He would have to find a way to meet her in private, which is precisely the circumstance she would be most determined to avoid. Perhaps she remained at Hunsford, wherever it might be. Regardless, he knew not why he continued to hurry towards the one familiar object in a most bizarre landscape, for he could only expect a very cool reception, assuming Elizabeth's feelings for him were indicative of her family's.

And how would they greet Bingley? What would he say upon learning of Darcy's involvement in separating him from Miss Bennet? His pace slackened, and he began to fall behind his friend. There was every possibility that Elizabeth would write to her sister regarding what she had learned.  Looking about him, he saw with guilty feelings all the houses they had passed by, the residents of each requiring interview. "One moment, Bingley!" he called out, coming to a complete stop.

"What is it Darcy? Do you not see it is Longbourn? I know you think she thought little of me, but I have been unable to forget her. I must see if Miss Bennet is home."

"For once I am as anxious to greet familiar faces as you are, but we really should not have hastened here so. It was negligent. We have a responsibility to fulfill."

"We can retrace our steps as soon as our call is complete, but I for one will begin nowhere other than Longbourn."

"Very well," Darcy conceded, loath to come between Bingley and the Bennets again, and he lengthened his strides once more. It was only a few minutes before they were at the door.

"Mr. Bingley! How excellent to see you again. And Mr. Darcy, too." He noticed how her suddenly cold tone raised the eyebrows of the three ladies on the sofa, two of which shared a significant glance. If Mrs. Bennet's lack of hospitality did not make him uneasy enough, their acute inspection solidified his discomfiture. Instinctively, his hauteur rose.

Anne perceived Mr. Darcy's response to the close scrutiny he and Mr. Bingley received, not just from those who had not previously made his acquaintance, but also from the two youngest daughters of the house, who were giggling and whispering to each other in a most conspicuous manner. She dropped her gaze and focused upon her work, supplied from Mrs. Bennet's poor basket, relieving him of at least one set of prying eyes. Her response did not go unnoticed by Mr. Darcy, who was instantly reminded of Elizabeth's recent rebukes. He forced his face into an expression he hoped was amiable.

"You find us in uproar, as I am sure you know," continued their hostess, having completed the introductions. "Do tell me, Mr. Bingley, if you returned to the neighborhood on purpose, or just happened to find yourself amongst us again?"

"The latter, I am afraid, but I always intended to return to Netherfield. It was really very convenient that I just happened to wake up there this morning. Oddly enough, I now find myself neighbor to your cousin's benefactress. Are your older daughter's at home?"

"Sadly not. As I have been saying to Mrs. Dashwood, who too has daughters in town, no one can know the agony we suffer, not knowing where our dear ones might be!"

"And I have repeatedly assured you, Mrs. Bennet," said Mary Musgrove, "that all mothers know such suffering. I have two boys of my own, gentlemen, and very find lads you will find them. You must come to Uppercross and shoot with my husband. It is not a quarter mile from here." She smiled amiably, very pleased with the appearance of these new acquaintances.

 "You forget, Mary, that the park is quite gone," reminded Anne.

"Oh dear! I quite forgot. We must hope that someone has retained their park, or else I know not what Charles will do with himself. He must have something to hunt."

"Perhaps he will begin with his own grounds."

Mr. Darcy looked eagerly towards Anne. "That must be the first object with us all. We passed several homes on our way here. In which direction is Uppercross?"

"Due North," Anne replied.

"Then we must have passed it on our way here."

"It is a Tudor building and quite conspicuous sitting in prominence on the corner. It was much more at home in its cozy grove in Somersetshire."

"I recall it well. Your description is most apt." Darcy was please to discover a sensible lady amongst the party assembled, even if she was not the one he had hoped (and feared) to find.

"My husband and I live in the Cottage, which is now just a block beyond." Mary supplied.

Mrs. Weston looked interested. "The pretty little place with the French windows? The trellis in my garden at Randalls lies directly to your left."

"It is very convenient we have met you all here," said Mr. Darcy seriously. "Several of us have banded together to search the area, discovering who it is we all find ourselves amongst, and trying to see if we cannot locate this strange woman who seems to be implicated in whatever it is that has happened."

"You mean Mrs. Adams," said Mrs. Dashwood.

"Have you seen her?" asked Mr. Darcy eagerly.

"Yes. Mrs. Weston, Mrs. Bennet, and I have all conversed with her, and we agree she seems a pleasant, if unusual, lady. She is undoubtedly the person to speak to, if your goal is to make some sense out of our predicament."

"What else could it be? We all must want to get to the bottom of this."

"I for one am very pleased to find myself amongst so many new acquaintances," declared Mrs. Bennet defiantly. "Even you, Mr. Darcy, can no longer find the society of our neighborhood limited. Only think of the dinner parties we are sure to have!"


"Forgive me, madame, but I cannot think of such things at a time like this. It is imperative that we learn what has happened to us, and in order to do so, it seems we must find this Mrs. Adams."

"I think Mr. Darcy is quite right," defended Mrs. Musgrove. "Social concerns certainly must wait until some very pressing questions have been answered. Then we may consider entertaining, and I have no doubt that Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove will be amongst the first to open their doors to our new neighbors." secretly, she worried that such behavior would force her to associate with those beneath her notice, but she wisely kept such concerns to herself.

Julia Sawalha 1995

"Perhaps Mr. Bingley will have another ball at Netherfield," giggled Lydia Bennet. "The last one was marvelous! I'm sure I danced with every one of the officers."

"Certainly there will be quite a competition to see who can be most hospitable," said Darcy dryly, "and my friend Bingley can be counted upon to enter the ranks, but to keep to the matter at hand, is your home located in the vicinity as well, Mrs. Dashwood?"

"Barton Cottage is not a block away. You can see it from the window."

He looked where she pointed, to a picturesque cottage not one hundred yards away, but his eye was caught elsewhere. Directly beside it stood the familiar rectory of Hunsford.

"Mrs. Bennet, are you aware that your cousin's home at Hunsford is also within sight?" He instantly found himself crowded out by the three Bennet girls, who all jockeyed for position at the window.

"Mr. Collins? Dear me! How disagreeable! Well, at least we will have Lizzy at home, though Jane would be much more to the point! You will excuse me, I'm sure, but I must collect her at once. There is no need for her to be keeping Charlotte company when I could very well use her assistance here. Mary, you will entertain our guests until I return."

Tessa Peake-Jones 1980

"Yes, Mama," she replied importantly. "Shall I open the pianoforte? Perhaps some of our new neighbors are musical."

"Yes, yes! Whatever you like. I must be off! Kitty, you are to accompany me."

"But I do not want to see Mr. Collins anymore than you do, Mama! Why must I be the one to go?"

"As Darcy and I are heading in that direction ourselves, we would be happy to escort you to Hunsford, Mrs. Bennet," offered Bingley.

"Thank you, Mr. Bingley! Always such a gentleman!"

Polly Maberley 1995

"Then you will have no need of my company, will you Mama?"

"No, Kitty, I have no need of you. Surely a lady of my age does not require a chaperone!' she giggled as girlishly as her daughters.

Darcy struggled to not show his contempt, bringing his thoughts back to Elizabeth and how she would react to him showing up at Hunsford in the company of her mother. It was a circumstance to be avoided at all costs."

"Is Mr. Bennet at home?" he asked hopefully. "We should really speak with him prior to our departure. Perhaps I might interview him while Mr. Bingley sees you to Hunsford?"

"No. Mrs. Adams carried him off with her. Something about a most impressive library it was imperative he see. I know not when we shall see his return."

"That is unfortunate," he conceded, knowing not how else to avoid a most uncomfortable meeting with Elizabeth. "I suppose we might as well continue southward from the Rectory, and then we can call at the homes we missed as we return to Donwell."

"Donwell Abbey!" exclaimed Mrs. Weston excitedly. "Dear Mr. Knightley's home! How good it will be to see a familiar face."

"I well know the feeling," chimed in Bingley. "It was familiarity that hastened Darcy and myself here. Are you acquainted with Miss Woodhouse as well?"

"Dear me, yes! I was her governess before I married Mr. Weston."

"Her governess!" cried Mary and Mrs. Bennet in tandem, the former raising her chin disdainfully, while the latter began to lecture Mrs. Weston regarding the vast difference between a mother's tender feelings and that of a hired caretaker.

Perceiving the discomfort of her companion, Anne was quick to advise Mrs. Weston to call on Donwell posthaste, that she might be reunited with her friends. "I will join you," she said, rising from her seat. "I am afraid my curiosity is far too engaged to tolerate sitting here and waiting for something to happen. Would you care to join us, Mary?"

Mrs. Musgrove was unsure. She was not eager for more walking, but she also had no desire to become further acquainted with Mrs. Weston.

"If you like, Mrs. Musgrove, Darcy and I could call here again to escort you either to Donwell or your own home, once we again head in that direction." It was his ardent desire that Miss Bennet would somehow materialize in her family home before they returned, in a similar way to that which Miss Elizabeth had been located.

"Thank you, Mr. Bingley. That is most attentive. I will remain here, Anne."

"Very well. I shall see you shortly. Are you ready, Mrs. Weston?"

"I certainly am. Surely learning of my dear Emma's whereabouts was precisely what Mrs. Adams intended in directing me here."

"You know, Bingley, perhaps I ought to see the ladies on to Donwell. From there I could call at the houses that remain unaccounted, meeting you somewhere in the middle. We would cover ground far more quickly in such a manner."

"Excellent notion! I will see you shortly."

So Anne, Mrs. Weston, Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Bingley all said their goodbyes to Mrs. Musgrove, Mrs. Dashwood, Margaret, who was looking on in wide eyed fascination as Lydia dictated to her older sister what pieces she ought and ought not to play, and the three Bennet daughters. Upon reaching the road, they parted ways, Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Bennet bound for Hunsford, while Darcy enjoyed the surprisingly felicitous companionship of Mrs. Weston and Miss Elliot as they made their way back up the hill. He looked behind him one last time towards Hunsford, simultaneously yearning to enter the parsonage doors and congratulating himself on his near escape.

Winner of the Extravaganza Inspired Giveaway Announced

Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and this first day of October leaves us without the joys of the Austenesque Extravaganza. It was a wonderful September, and I have only to regret that I didn't get a chance to read every post (in my defense, there were A LOT). Congratulations to the Extravaganza team for pulling off such a tremendous event, and to JEWELS1328, the winner of the copy of First Impressions that I am giving away in its honor! I will be contacting you shortly so that you may claim your prize. Thanks to everyone who entered, and to the many bloggers and writers who made last month so very special.

A Mixed Up Mashup: The Ladies at Longbourn

Introduction / In the Rose Garden / Tea with George

Amanda Root 1995

It was with trepidation that Anne followed her sister Mary down the remarkably ordered road, packed with structures one would undoubtedly describe as noble homes, had they not been stacked one on top of the next. Yet when she spotted the great house at Uppercross, remarkable as it appeared sitting upon a street corner surrounded by neighbors on all sides, the world suddenly seemed not so unbearable. It was her first taste of true comfort since reality had been cast into confusion that morning, when she watched a house materialize upon her sister's veranda,  Mary must have felt something similar, for both quickened their steps, hurrying to the door. Upon crossing the threshold, they found themselves in such a scene of chaos that the one just left no longer seemed so bizarre.

Morag Hood 1971

Children ran everywhere, several unknown persons crowded the hall, and all seemed to be talking at once, creating a grand cacophony. Instantly spotting Charles through the mayhem, Mary threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.

"Charles!" she cried through her sobs. "Do you know what has happened? Has the whole world gone mad? Thank goodness Anne was with me, for I never could have calmed the boys myself. Jemima is overwrought and completely useless!"

"Mary!" he said soothingly, leading both ladies into an adjoining parlor. "I cannot think that Anne, nor you, would have left the boys alone with her if that were true."

"What can you know of it? Men do always manage to avoid everything most disagreeable!"  

Simon Russell Beale 1995

"You would not envy me if you knew what I have been up to," he mumbled disconsolately. "That strange woman brought all these people here, insisting my mother take them in for some indefinite period of time. I was not here, and so do not know quite how it was, but she assures me that there was no rejecting them. The Harvilles seem very good sorts, but I know not what to make of this Benwick fellow. Even worse, she insisted Lousia be sent to bed for a head injury she never has sustained. How either agreed to such a thing, I haven't a clue."

Judy Cornwell 1995

"She was not to be denied!" explained a remarkably placid Mrs. Musgrove, just then entering the room. "Had you met Mrs. Adams, you would have complied with her wishes too, Charles. How else could she convince Captain and Mrs. Harville to relocate their entire family from Lyme? Just imagine! Two of poor Richard's commanding officers! I could not possibly refuse them."

"I already explained to you, mama, that they did not come from Lyme, but just up the road. The entire world has been turned on its head, you know, and Harville has a perfectly good house not two miles from here. The only trouble seems to be that he took the place on account of its proximity to the ocean, and now it sits upon a river instead! Quite remarkable!"

"It certainly is," concurred Anne, glad to be getting to the matter uppermost in her mind. "I am no scientist, but must there not be some reasonable explanation for the strange phenomenon we are experiencing?"

"Someone might have one, but it is not me," declared Charles with fervor. "If I were to consider the matter, I think this Mrs. Adams must be at the very root of the problem."

"Oh no, Charles!" his mother cried. "She had the sweetest baby girl! Besides, only think how very kind of her it was to warn us that Louisa might fall if she went to Lyme. We had no plans for such an excursion, but nevertheless, it is quite a relief to me that we shall never have to suffer such a harrowing incident as Mrs. Adams described. It was really quite dreadful!"

"But that is precisely my point, mama! How could she come by such information, and why would she insist that you take in all these unknown house guests!"

"She said it was essential to my daughter's happiness. I do not know to which she referred, but I am not one to do anything that might curtail the pleasures of my children! She further told me that Mary and Anne would soon arrive, and that I was to send them to a house down the road - Longbourn is the name - just as soon as I was able. There is much to do, but I am sure I can manage with just Henrietta. You had best be on your way at once, for they must be expecting you!'

Be it due to the relief of action or just plain curiosity, the sisters readily complied with this dictate. Of course, Mary did make some protest, particularly when she discovered that Charles was to remain behind, but even this was relatively mild. Soon they were again making their way down the strange road, and it was not long before they stood in front of the ivy covered edifice that Mrs. Adams had described to Mrs. Musgrove.

"This is very strange, Anne. Can we really just appear upon the doorstep of persons totally unconnected to us?"

"Nothing can be stranger than this morning, Mary. Such exceptional circumstances surely override common civilities. Besides, we have Mrs. Adams recommendation." Even as she said the words, Anne wondered if the residents of the house would have any idea who Mrs. Adams was, but she kept her thought to herself and knocked upon the door. 

Alison Steadman 1995

The ladies were ushered into a small sitting room overcrowded by ladies, young and old. A Mrs. Bennet greeted them in a flustered and overly intimate manner, instantly arousing Mary's disdain. She put forward three of her daughters, all rather unpromising, explaining as she did so that the two eldest were away from home, "And how they shall ever return to us I am sure I do not know, for we do not even know where we are. It has been a most trying morning, most overwhelming to my nerves! This is Mrs. Dashwood and her youngest daughter, Miss Margaret. The two eldest, she tells me, are in London, just like my poor Jane. Who can say, my dear Mrs. Dashwood, if we shall ever see our dear girls again! And this is Mrs. Weston, who has no children, but nevertheless worries about a Miss Woodhouse. Do you have children, Mrs. Musgrove?"

"I have two sons."

"Sons! Are they married?"

Mary's hauteur increased. "They are four and two!"

"Oh! Mere boys then," said Mrs. Bennet despondently. "Be grateful! You cannot know the worries Mrs. Dashwood and I bear."

"I assure you, ma'am, that the events of this day have left me quite as distraught as anyone. I am terribly prone to the headache, and it is a wonder I have not yet succumbed."

As Mary and Mrs. Bennet began an animated debate regarding who suffered more, Anne found a seat between Mrs. Dashwood, who looked to be struggling not to laugh, and Mrs. Weston.

Janet McTeer 2008

"Do not mind our hostess," said Mrs. Dashwood in an undertone. "I have now been here for some hours and feel quite the expert on her excitability. I was on the verge of departing when Mrs. Weston arrived, but as she too had spoken with Mrs. Adams and been directed here by her, I decided to remain. We are very fortunate in Mrs. Bennet's hospitality."

"You are not concerned for your daughters?" asked Anne.

"Not at all. Mrs. Adams assures me they should be along shortly."

"Who is Mrs. Adams? I did not see her myself but was the recipient of a message, yet I cannot but think she must be somehow involved in whatever it is that has happened to us all."

Samantha Bond 1995

"It is most peculiar," agreed Mrs. Weston, "but having spoken with the lady and seen her with that dear little girl, I am assured there can be no harm in her. Her knowledge of us all is uncanny, and I know not how she came by it, but she is going to help us. I feel certain of it."

"Mrs. Weston is right. We just have to stay here and wait for whatever it is that will happen next."

All three ladies glanced towards Mrs. Bennet, who was now insisting Mrs. Musgrove could not possibly know a headache as bad as her own, and Anne realized that she ought to intervene before Mary became too incensed. Before she could ask their hostess where Longbourn, under normal circumstances, was located, a diversion was provided by one of the Miss Bennets, who exclaimed from her perch by the window:

Polly Maberly 1995

"Look, mamma! Is that not Mr. Bingley coming towards the house?"

"Mr. Bingley!" Mrs. Bennet cried, bustling towards the window.

"There is another gentleman with him - it looks like that tall, proud man."

"Good gracious! Mr. Darcy! What is the world coming to? And Jane stuck in town! How will we ever get her back before he leaves again?"

All the ladies, whether they knew who the gentlemen referred to were or not, eagerly awaited their knock.

Dear Mr. Darcy by Amanda Grange

We have discussed epistolary novels before, as I find them quite charming. I never have done a proper post on Lady Susan, a sad oversight, but I have reviewed Letters from Pemberley and More Letters from Pemberley by Jane Dawkins, as well as My Dear Charlotte by Hazel Holt. When I first learned that Amanda Grange had rewritten Pride and Prejudice in letters, the form in which most suspect it was originally composed, I immediately determined to read it, but if I had not won a copy on Austenesque Reviews, it probably would have been sometime before I found the time, my opportunities to read being so curtailed these days. I have to be very selective about which books I most want to read, unlike those carefree times when I was able to consume several novels a week, and I tend to favor those by my favorite authors. Ms. Grange, alas is not a favorite with me. I read most of her Diaries when I first discovered JAFF, they being some of the few volumes I could find on bookstore shelves, and I enjoyed them well enough. It was Mr. Darcy, Vampyre that turned me away from Ms. Grange, and while I've felt some desire to check out Mr. Wickham's Diary, it has not been strong enough for me to overcome the lingering distaste. Dear Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, was tempting enough that it would have been read, sooner or later. I am pleased "sooner" won the day.

This story begins well before Jane Austen's at the time when Fitzwilliam Darcy's father is dying. The extended timeline reflects Ms. Grange's desire to expand upon the original story, and she creates a convincing tapestry of characters to act as correspondents, enriching the familiar tale with their perspectives. There is a Darcy cousin, Phillip, who is even more stringently against shade pollution than Lady Catherine; an entire Bingley family of vulgar tradesmen, shining new light on Caroline's behavior; and a Mr. Parker, Mr. Wickham's companion in debauchery. Perhaps my favorite is the Sotherton family, the owners of Netherfield who are forced to retrench to Bath due to the father's gambling habits. The three daughters of the family act as correspondents to the Bennet girls: Lucy and Mary try to rationalize the guilty pleasure of Gothic novels with imposed morality, Eleanor sympathizes with all of Kitty and Lydia's pursuits, while Susan is the sole friend in whom Elizabeth completely confides. Susan also corresponds with Charlotte Lucas, and the triangle of female friendship thereby created is excellently portrayed. For example, Charlotte writes to Susan:

I have told Elizabeth that she should use her influence with Jane and advise her sister to show more interest in him, but Elizabeth is romantic and thinks that Jane needs more time to truly understand Mr. Bingley's character. I cannot agree with her.

Then Elizabeth writes to Susan:

Jane's evening was even more satisfactory than mine, as Mr. Bingley continued to pay her attention of the most particular kind.
I truly believe he is falling in love with her, and he is so agreeable that I think he might even be worthy of her.

And Susan responds to Elizabeth:

I think Charlotte is right, Lizzy: if Jane likes him, she should encourage him. Jane has always been of a calm and equable temper and, not knowing her as we do, he might mistake gentleness for indifference. 

Is this not precisely how female relationships work? I had almost the same conversation with my mother and sister just last week, only the topic in our case was how to adapt to living with a man. My mother took the part of Charlotte, my sister was Lizzy, and I had the pleasure of being Susan.

I was less thrilled with some of Ms. Grange's other creations. Phillip Darcy held me fascinated, but when I most wanted to hear from him, right after Darcy and Elizabeth become engaged, Ms. Grange had already confined him to silence. The Bingleys also bothered me. I had always assumed they have to be a generation or two removed from their trading roots, but Ms. Grange makes their father the fortune maker, harnessing them with a mother who makes Mrs. Bennet look refined and a brother still running the business. While I found this portrayal amusing, it cannot be believable, for the Bingleys would have been unable to mix with London society in the degree they do if their ties to trade were so immediate, Mr. Bingley's fortune not being large enough to buy the Ton's acceptance. I also had to suspend my sense of reality in order to accept Ms. Grange's development of Mrs. Younge, known to Wickham and Mr. Parker as Belle, whom she makes her out to be a courtesan. Unfortunately, the unconvincing explanation offered for how such a person could end up in Mr. Darcy's employ doesn't quite cut it. At least not for me.

Minor qualms aside, I think Ms. Grange deserves a great deal of credit for the complexity of this undertaking. The resultant story is pleasurable, authentic in tone, and respectful to Austen's original tale. It is, without doubt, my favorite book I have read by Ms. Grange. In fact, it is good enough to make me want to read another, even with my limited reading time. I think I'll go put Mr. Wickham's Diary in my shopping cart right now.   

Happy Extravaganza! First Impressions Giveaway

In honor of the Austenesque Extravaganza and my collaborators on yesterday's Roguish Rout, I'm pleased to be able to offer a copy of First Impressions: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice to a randomly selected person leaving their email in the Comments section of this post. Anyone who has done so as well as commenting on yesterday's post, or those of Monica Fairview and Diana Birchall, will receive an additional entry. This giveaway is international and will be open until 23:59 EST September 30th. If you are interested in Second Glances (which I have great hopes of publishing before the end of the year) but have not read First Impressions, here is your opportunity to catch up. Happy Extravaganza!

Austenesque Extravaganza: Ruminations on Rogues

What a pleasure participate in the 2nd Austenesque Extravaganza! Last year I revealed some of my more crazy imaginings (read it here), and regular followers will know I have been unable to relinquish the whimsy, reviving it in the Mixed Up Mashup madness in which I have lately indulged. This year I have had the honor of collaborating with two Austenesque writers that I have long admired: Diana Birchall (read my review of Mrs. Elton in America) and Monica Fairview (read my review of The Darcy Cousins). To work with such accomplished ladies is a special treat, and I am sure to be riding the wave of my excitement for several weeks to come.

As a topic for this "Traveling Tuesday" we easily agreed on the rewards and punishments dolled out to Austen's rogues.  Diana led the conversation, and it is her thoughts that I will provide you with today. I carried the torch next, and poor Monica has my typically long-winded and rambling reply posted on her blog. She wraps up the discussion on Diana's blog. Concluding each post you will find four questions, to which we have each responded (the answers belong to the person whose blog you are visiting, not the guest). Please share with us your answers. It will be particularly interesting to see if your replies change as you consider each author's thoughts. You will find my responses immediately following Diana's musings. 

In the name of context, I will begin by providing the initial questions which sparked our conversation: 

How does Jane Austen define a villain? For example, is Lydia a villain? Can people like Mr. Collins and even Mrs. Bennet be seen as villains? Where do we draw the line?

Does Jane Austen pass moral judgements on her characters? What is the worse "sin" a character can commit? Stupidity? Snobbery? Defying social norms?

Is Jane Austen sexist in the sense that she tends to punish her female villains more than her male villains?

Diana's thoughts:

Ooo, good questions.

How does Jane Austen define a villain?  Hmm...Well, I think the main quality her villains have in common is that they are, in no particular order, self serving, self centered, and selfish, regardless of the impact on other people's lives.

Most people will agree that some of the worst villains in Austen include General Tilney, Wickham, Willoughby, Mrs. Norris, Lucy Steele, and Lady Catherine, all of whom epitomize the view that the world revolves exclusively around their own interests, and whose actions harm others.

Others may have odious personalities (Mr.Collins, Mrs. Elton), have unintentionally adverse effects on the lives of others (both Mr. and Mrs. Bennet), or such poor judgment that they cause harm to others and themselves, sometimes through the follies of youth (Lydia, Marianne, Tom Bertram).  Such people can be a menace, but they are not examples of what Jane Austen herself describes when writing about Lucy:

"The whole of Lucy's behaviour in the affair, and the prosperity which crowned it, therefore, may be held forth as a most encouraging instance of what an earnest, an unceasing attention to self-interest, however its progress may be apparently obstructed, will do in securing every advantage of fortune, with no other sacrifice than that of time and conscience."

If Jane Austen tends to punish her female misbehavers more severely than the male ones, I don't think it is sexist of her, but simply a realistic reflection of the imbalances of her day.  She even addresses the question in Mansfield Park, when she says:

"That punishment, the public punishment of disgrace, should in a just measure attend his share of the offence is, we know, not one of the barriers which society gives to virtue. In this world the penalty is less equal than could be wished; but without presuming to look forward to a juster appointment hereafter, we may fairly consider a man of sense, like Henry Crawford, to be providing for himself no small portion of vexation and regret..."

That is surely a full-throated feminist statement if ever there was one!

So, who do you think are the worst villains, and why?

The conversation continues at Monica's Blog: monicafairview.blogspot.com

Follow up question:

1. Who do you think was punished most severely?

Sir Thomas Bertram. Misguided he might have been, but he is the father in Austen who tried the hardest to do right by his children, and few of her characters ever feel their own failings so acutely.

2. Who do you think gets let off most easily?

Hands down, Lucy Steele. I refer you to the quotation Diana cited above.

3. Do you think the women get a worse punishment than the men?

Yes, but as I argue on Monica's blog, the discrimination lies entirely with society, which Austen realistically depicts.

4. If you got to rewrite the ending of any of the novels, who would you choose to punish and why?

Edmund Bertram for being inexcusably oblivious. He does not deserve Fanny.

So what do you think? There may be benefits to leaving a response. Check back here tomorrow to find out!