Note: Only pseudo spoilers, no details, but you might want to proceed with caution.
The Lost in Austen miniseries finally reached the top of my Netflix queue! My husband and I enjoyed watching it last night. It really is very funny at moments but, overall, I have to agree with one of Amanda Price's lines - "that's Jane Austen spinning in her grave like a cat in a tumble dryer" - when I reflect on this film. Let's face it, Jane Austen probably spends a lot of time tossing and turning in her coffin. Those of us who, to quote myself, are "determined to continue, elaborate on, or simply meddle with Jane Austen's novels" take extraordinary liberties with her work and it is appropriate to acknowledge that much of what we do would not meet with her approval. I have struggled with this in my own writing and in my reading of Austen fan fiction, sometimes horrified by the fantastic scenarios which her characters are thrust into (like Darcy and Elizabeth conversing with Lady Catherine while swimming naked in an alpine lake in Mr. Darcy, Vampyre or engaging in premarital relations in almost every one of the The Pemberley Variations ). What Lost in Austen reminded me is that while I might rave and rant about incongruity or historical inaccuracy, it is all done out of love for Austen. Her stories have become so much a part of our lives that they virtually live and breath, constantly changing and expanding into new avenues as they adapt to our modern world. Amanda Price puts it beautifully: "I love the love story. I love Elizabeth. I love the manners and the language and courtesy. It's become part of who I am and what I want." This rings so true to me. It doesn't matter if Georgiana is a spoiled little girl determined to have her way or if Miss Bingley sexual preferences are less than conventional. I'm even willing to overlook the fact that a night in a hotel room with a man didn't ruin Lydia's reputation. It's all in homage to Austen and, while sometimes maddening, overall it's thoroughly delightful. So please try to rest in peace Jane. Being one of the most beloved authors of all time cannot be easy but it's sure have its compensations.
One last thought - is Christina Cole destined to play all the hated ladies in Austen? She was Miss Bingley in Lost in Austen and Mrs. Elton in the new BBC version of Emma. What's next? I could see her playing the role Isabella Thorpe and think she would be a perfect Elizabeth Elliot. She is absolutely stunning to watch on screen.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Lady Vernon & Her Daughter
As noted a few posts ago, the new book Lady Vernon and Her Daughter by Caitlen Rubino-Bradway and Jane Rubino was recently brought to my attention and I (typically) rushed right out to procure a copy. I have now finished reading it and was surprised to enjoy it as much as I did. My trepidation stemmed from the description of the book as a "completion" of Lady Susan on Amazon. I could understand if the book was marketed as an expansion, in the same way that Sense & Sensibility and Pride & Prejudice are expanded versions of Elinor & Marianne and First Impressions, but to suggest that Austen left Lady Susan incomplete rubs roughly against the grain. Upon reading the story's first chapter I found myself even more infuriated by this description, for it became clear that the characters were entirely altered from their original form: Lady Susan (Lady Vernon here, her titled having derived from a knighted husband - not sure I buy the authoresses' explanation for this) is sympathetic, Miss Vernon bookish, Sir James is a witty cousin, and Mr. Vernon a villain. But as I read on and it became clear that this wasn't a completion or an expansion of the original I began to enjoy myself. While this book is certainly inspired by Lady Susan and follows a similar plot line it is an entirely different story, with completely different thematic and moral implications than Austen's original. It is a regency romance, resembling Georgette Hayer's style more than Austen's (i.e. clearly defined romantic hero, easily recognizable villain, elaborate plot twists), and as such it is successful. I would have been happier had the authoresses created a story strictly adhering to Austen's original but, nonetheless, once I stopped tracking the discrepancies between the two, the tale is good fun. Better for those with a penchant for regency romance than the strict Austen adherents.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Sourcebooks did it again ...
This time the book is entitled Searching for Pemberley. It comes out in December. Written by Mary Simonsen, it was originally called Pemberley Remembered, released in '07, and is the story of an American, Maggie Joyce, living in post-war England who becomes friends with the former residents of the home believed to have been Austen's model for Pemberley. Maggie uncovers the romance that was the inspiration for the characters of Elizabeth and Darcy against a back drop of deprivation and cultural upheaval. I usually don't care for modernizations of Austen's work but the juxtaposition between the lavish regency period and post-war desolation is effective. I enjoyed this book, maybe because it is such a far cry from your typical Austen fan fiction - an entirely new story set in a most non Austen-like era. Congratulations to Ms. Simonsen.
Added 11/24/09 - I just learned from the author herself that Searching for Pemberley is not only Pemberley Remembered but also a continuation of that story. Now I'm off to put a copy on my wish list. A review is sure to follow.
Added 11/24/09 - I just learned from the author herself that Searching for Pemberley is not only Pemberley Remembered but also a continuation of that story. Now I'm off to put a copy on my wish list. A review is sure to follow.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
How about those beloved Austen endings...
If anyone out there is actually paying attention, they know I reread Lady Susan last weekend. Twice actually. It was then brought to my notice that there was a "completion" (I have serious issues with that word) of the story entitled Lady Vernon and Her Daughter by Jane Rubino and Caitlen Rubino-Bradway. I haven't finished it yet but what I can say is that the characters in this story, while sharing the same names and life experiences of Jane Austen's, are entirely new creations. That being said, in the spirit of my last post I thought I'd share the Rubinos' opening line:
A woman with neither property nor fortune must ward off affliction by cultivating the beauty, brilliance, and accomplishment that will blind a promising suitor to the want of a dowry.
Quite cute, I thought, and much more in keeping with the spirit of Austen's text than the rest of the book has so far proven to be.
So what about last lines? Lady Susan's is classic:
For myself, I confess that I can pity only Miss Manwaring, who, coming to Town & putting herself to an expense in Cloathes which impoverished her for two years, on purpose to secure him, was defrauded of her due by a Woman ten years older than herself.
It has the same catty bite to it as the end of Persuasion:
It would be well for the eldest sister if she were equally satisfied with her situation, for a change is not very probable there. She had soon the mortification of seeing Mr Elliot withdraw, and no one of proper condition has since presented himself to raise even the unfounded hopes which sunk with him.
Austen is similarly sarcastic at the end of Northanger Abbey:
To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty–six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced that the general’s unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.
Jane Austen's other endings are rather more "happily ever after" in style than school girl cheek, though she still demonstrates an unwillingness to let her characters go in peace. For example, in Pride & Prejudice she must remind us of our heroine's unpleasant relations:
Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at Pemberley.
In Emma we are not allowed to forget that the Knightlys will still have to endure the Eltons:
The wedding was very much like other weddings, where the parties have no taste for finery or parade; and Mrs. Elton, from the particulars detailed by her husband, thought it all extremely shabby, and very inferior to her own. "Very little white satin, very few lace veils; a most pitiful business! Selina would stare when she heard of it." But, in spite of these deficiencies, the wishes, the hopes, the confidence, the predictions of the small band of true friends who witnessed the ceremony, were fully answered in the perfect happiness of the union.
And the end of Sense & Sensibility undermines the entire premise of perfect happiness:
Between Barton and Delaford there was that constant communication which strong family affection would naturally dictate; and among the merits and the happiness of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked as the least considerable, that, though sisters, and living almost within sight of each other, they could live without disagreement between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands.
Only in the case of Fanny Price, of all Austen's heroines, does the authoress leave us with a prospect of complete contentment and that is gained only in juxtaposition to her previous suffering:
On that event they removed to Mansfield; and the Parsonage there, which, under each of its two former owners, Fanny had never been able to approach but with some painful sensation of restraint or alarm, soon grew as dear to her heart, and as thoroughly perfect in her eyes, as everything else within the view and patronage of Mansfield Park had long been.
Perhaps Fanny is the only one capable of such quiet complacency? As Elizabeth freely admits to Jane, "Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness."
A woman with neither property nor fortune must ward off affliction by cultivating the beauty, brilliance, and accomplishment that will blind a promising suitor to the want of a dowry.
Quite cute, I thought, and much more in keeping with the spirit of Austen's text than the rest of the book has so far proven to be.
So what about last lines? Lady Susan's is classic:
For myself, I confess that I can pity only Miss Manwaring, who, coming to Town & putting herself to an expense in Cloathes which impoverished her for two years, on purpose to secure him, was defrauded of her due by a Woman ten years older than herself.
It has the same catty bite to it as the end of Persuasion:
It would be well for the eldest sister if she were equally satisfied with her situation, for a change is not very probable there. She had soon the mortification of seeing Mr Elliot withdraw, and no one of proper condition has since presented himself to raise even the unfounded hopes which sunk with him.
Austen is similarly sarcastic at the end of Northanger Abbey:
To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty–six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced that the general’s unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.
Jane Austen's other endings are rather more "happily ever after" in style than school girl cheek, though she still demonstrates an unwillingness to let her characters go in peace. For example, in Pride & Prejudice she must remind us of our heroine's unpleasant relations:
Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at Pemberley.
In Emma we are not allowed to forget that the Knightlys will still have to endure the Eltons:
The wedding was very much like other weddings, where the parties have no taste for finery or parade; and Mrs. Elton, from the particulars detailed by her husband, thought it all extremely shabby, and very inferior to her own. "Very little white satin, very few lace veils; a most pitiful business! Selina would stare when she heard of it." But, in spite of these deficiencies, the wishes, the hopes, the confidence, the predictions of the small band of true friends who witnessed the ceremony, were fully answered in the perfect happiness of the union.
And the end of Sense & Sensibility undermines the entire premise of perfect happiness:
Between Barton and Delaford there was that constant communication which strong family affection would naturally dictate; and among the merits and the happiness of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked as the least considerable, that, though sisters, and living almost within sight of each other, they could live without disagreement between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands.
Only in the case of Fanny Price, of all Austen's heroines, does the authoress leave us with a prospect of complete contentment and that is gained only in juxtaposition to her previous suffering:
On that event they removed to Mansfield; and the Parsonage there, which, under each of its two former owners, Fanny had never been able to approach but with some painful sensation of restraint or alarm, soon grew as dear to her heart, and as thoroughly perfect in her eyes, as everything else within the view and patronage of Mansfield Park had long been.
Perhaps Fanny is the only one capable of such quiet complacency? As Elizabeth freely admits to Jane, "Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness."
Monday, October 19, 2009
My Favorite Beginning to a Jane Austen Novel
Certainly the most memorable opening in Austen (and arguably in all of English literature) is the first sentence of Pride & Prejudice: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." I, like so many before me, mimic it in the introduction to First Impressions, found in the side bar. I often laugh at the thought of what the modern, elementary writing teacher - endlessly drilling the rules of paragraph formation into a mass of bored student - would say if presented with such a stupendous topic sentence. Yet it is not, in my opinion, the best Austen has to offer.
My favorite of all the beginnings to Jane Austen's novels is also only one sentence, but its enormous length renders any comparison with the brief quote above comical. My imaginary writing teacher would find great fault with the opening of Persuasion but I am, nonetheless, prepared to argue its merits on three grounds. First I will assert that on the very first page of the novel, in a single paragraph mind you, Jane Austen successfully provides a complete character sketch of Sir Walter Elliot, thereby freeing up the remainder of her novel for the exploration of far more interesting characters and sparing her readers as much as possible from his presence. Perhaps this holds less true on a first reading of the novel, but those of us who have long known and despised Sir Walter can recognize it as a perfect summary:
Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt, as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century--and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed--this was the page at which the favourite volume always opened --
My third reason for believing this to be the best opening in all of Austen is that Anne Elliot is barely in sight, a footnote in the beloved entry, mimicking the role she plays within her family. She is not mentioned again for three pages, when we learn that Anne is "... nobody with either father or sister: her word had no weight; her convenience was always to give way; --she was only Anne." This is a story of a neglected lady's second chance to be courted and esteemed. Austen must deliver us into the despondency of Anne's situation at Kellynch if we are to fully appreciate her resurgence later. It's only appropriate that it takes a second look to notice her in the first place. Here is Austen at her very best.
Just for fun, here are some of my favorite evocations of the Pride & Prejudice opening:
"If, as the prevailing wisdom has had it these many years, a young man in possession of a good fortune is always in want of a wife, then surely the reverse must prove true as well: any well-favoured lady of means must incline, indeed yearn, to improve her situation by seeking a husband." - Julie Barrett, Presumption
"One might say that the divine gift of human memory used for the recitation of three-month-old annoyances constitutes talent misspent." Eucharista Ward, Illusions and Ignorance or A Match for Mary Bennet
"The true misfortune, which besets any young lady who believes herself destined for fortune and favour, is to find that she has been born into an unsuitable family." - Jane Odiwe, Lydia Bennet's Story
My favorite of all the beginnings to Jane Austen's novels is also only one sentence, but its enormous length renders any comparison with the brief quote above comical. My imaginary writing teacher would find great fault with the opening of Persuasion but I am, nonetheless, prepared to argue its merits on three grounds. First I will assert that on the very first page of the novel, in a single paragraph mind you, Jane Austen successfully provides a complete character sketch of Sir Walter Elliot, thereby freeing up the remainder of her novel for the exploration of far more interesting characters and sparing her readers as much as possible from his presence. Perhaps this holds less true on a first reading of the novel, but those of us who have long known and despised Sir Walter can recognize it as a perfect summary:
Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt, as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century--and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed--this was the page at which the favourite volume always opened --
My second argument lies solely in the fact that the sensations of contentment Austen subscribes here to Sir Walter are precisely the same as mine when I read this paragraph."ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH-HALL.
"Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth, daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of Gloucester; by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth, born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son, Nov. 5, 1789; Mary, born Nov. 20, 1791."
My third reason for believing this to be the best opening in all of Austen is that Anne Elliot is barely in sight, a footnote in the beloved entry, mimicking the role she plays within her family. She is not mentioned again for three pages, when we learn that Anne is "... nobody with either father or sister: her word had no weight; her convenience was always to give way; --she was only Anne." This is a story of a neglected lady's second chance to be courted and esteemed. Austen must deliver us into the despondency of Anne's situation at Kellynch if we are to fully appreciate her resurgence later. It's only appropriate that it takes a second look to notice her in the first place. Here is Austen at her very best.
Just for fun, here are some of my favorite evocations of the Pride & Prejudice opening:
"If, as the prevailing wisdom has had it these many years, a young man in possession of a good fortune is always in want of a wife, then surely the reverse must prove true as well: any well-favoured lady of means must incline, indeed yearn, to improve her situation by seeking a husband." - Julie Barrett, Presumption
"One might say that the divine gift of human memory used for the recitation of three-month-old annoyances constitutes talent misspent." Eucharista Ward, Illusions and Ignorance or A Match for Mary Bennet
"The true misfortune, which besets any young lady who believes herself destined for fortune and favour, is to find that she has been born into an unsuitable family." - Jane Odiwe, Lydia Bennet's Story
Friday, October 16, 2009
Is that a sword Miss Elizabeth is wielding?: Horror-fying Austen
I read Amanda Grange's Mr. Darcy, Vampyre today. This is way more Udolpho than Vampire Darcy's Desire was. Appropriately, it is dedicated to Catherine Morland.
Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters awaits.
This is not what I read Austen for. This is more akin to torture.
Why am I doing to myself, forcing my way through this new subset of Austen fan fic? And where did all these monsters come from anyway?
It's not the first time I've encountered the occult in Austen sequels: Carrie Bebris' Mr. & Mrs. Darcy Mysteries, which I enjoyed, are full otherworldly occurrences, well beyond the bounds of Jane's "two inches of ivory". But there is definitely something different going on with this monster phenomenon, particularly in these vampire stories, their major similarity being not fangs but sexual frustration (I'm struggling not to spend an enormous amount of time psychoanalyzing that). I admit to enjoying Ms. Jeffers' effort, more so than I did her previous books, but I much preferred Ms. Grange's diaries of the Austen heroes to this new effort, which really does resemblance Ann Radcliff's work more than Austen's. I never did manage to finish Udolpho. It's one of the very few book I've ever abandoned mid-read.
I don't mean to imply that these harrowing takes on Austen aren't readable. Obviously the concept of inserting Zombies into Pride and Prejudice appealed to a great many people. Is it wrong of me to suspect them of being the same people who didn't much care for the tame world of Austen in the first place? Furthermore, is it unfair for me to expect something different from people like Ms. Grange and Ms. Jeffers, who obviously have a deep and passionate love for Austen? I need to take a step back and think.
Ms. Grange is going on a blog tour. Perhaps she'll address some of my questions.
I'm still determined to pick up that copy of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, but I think I first deserve a reprieve from monsters and mayhem. I believe I'll reread Lady Susan - her kind of chaos seems quite palatable right now.
Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters awaits.
This is not what I read Austen for. This is more akin to torture.
Why am I doing to myself, forcing my way through this new subset of Austen fan fic? And where did all these monsters come from anyway?
It's not the first time I've encountered the occult in Austen sequels: Carrie Bebris' Mr. & Mrs. Darcy Mysteries, which I enjoyed, are full otherworldly occurrences, well beyond the bounds of Jane's "two inches of ivory". But there is definitely something different going on with this monster phenomenon, particularly in these vampire stories, their major similarity being not fangs but sexual frustration (I'm struggling not to spend an enormous amount of time psychoanalyzing that). I admit to enjoying Ms. Jeffers' effort, more so than I did her previous books, but I much preferred Ms. Grange's diaries of the Austen heroes to this new effort, which really does resemblance Ann Radcliff's work more than Austen's. I never did manage to finish Udolpho. It's one of the very few book I've ever abandoned mid-read.
I don't mean to imply that these harrowing takes on Austen aren't readable. Obviously the concept of inserting Zombies into Pride and Prejudice appealed to a great many people. Is it wrong of me to suspect them of being the same people who didn't much care for the tame world of Austen in the first place? Furthermore, is it unfair for me to expect something different from people like Ms. Grange and Ms. Jeffers, who obviously have a deep and passionate love for Austen? I need to take a step back and think.
Ms. Grange is going on a blog tour. Perhaps she'll address some of my questions.
I'm still determined to pick up that copy of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, but I think I first deserve a reprieve from monsters and mayhem. I believe I'll reread Lady Susan - her kind of chaos seems quite palatable right now.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
The "What If?" Genre Part 3: Susan Adriani & Linda Wells
In 2008 both Susan Adriani and Linda Wells made contributions to the growing stock of, what I am calling, "What If?" stories based on Pride & Prejudice. It's a term I first encountered in Ms. Adriani's Affinity & Affection: A Pride & Prejudice What If Story and have been using ever since. This story begins while Jane and Elizabeth Bennet are staying at Netherfield and does a good job of depicting Darcy's torment over his growing affection for latter lady. When He and Bingley encounter Wickham in Meryton the following week he decides he cannot just ride away, instead warning Elizabeth not to trust the man. This act changes the way Elizabeth views him and their romance quickly blossoms. Wickham, on the other hand, has yet another excuse to despise his former friend and patron. This is a fun variation on the story (I particularly enjoyed the trials Elizabeth confronts in London as Darcy's intended) but some of the scenario that plays out is rather far fetched, particularly in regards to Lydia. Like most of the other "What If?" tales I've been discussing, I wish Ms. Adriani had left out the sexual content, but I know many other people enjoy it.
Linda Wells produced one tomb entitled Chance Encounters and managed to pump out another one in 2009 called Fate & Consequences: A Tale of Pride & Prejudice. She also just released a book last month called Perfect Fit: A Modern Tale of Pride & Prejudice which I haven't read (I have never gotten excited by the modernizations - maybe someday I'll go on a spree and pound through them all). Chance Encounters, for the first couple of chapters, had me grinning and giggling like Charlotte Palmer. There is no other word I can use but tickled to describe how much I enjoyed the premise. Bingley has postponed his residency at Netherfield, delaying the time when he and Darcy meet the Bennets. As she attends the theater in London with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth catches Darcy's eye and both are instantly smitten. Unfortunately, as the book progresses it grows less compelling. Still, on my first read, I could barley put it down. It was only on my second pass through that I grew impatient, both with the bad editing and the amount of sexual content (since I was unconcerned with missing plot I just skipped over those scenes).
Fate & Consequences is a much more polished text than Chance Encounters but I didn't enjoy it as much. This story strays a bit from the standard "What If?" formula by not changing the action of a particular moment in Pride & Prejudice but what happened before the story began. Here Georgiana Darcy actually departs Ramsgate with Wickham and Darcy, along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, is forced to pursue them. Where do they catch up with elopers? Meryton of course, giving Elizabeth the opportunity to comfort a distraught Georgiana and begin a correspondence with her. It's a fun concept but it just didn't grab me in the same way that Chance Encounters did. Still, a worth while read.
I am sure that there are many more examples of "What If?" stories circulating online, I just haven't read them. If anyone would be so kind as to bring the better ones to my attention I would appreciate it.
Linda Wells produced one tomb entitled Chance Encounters and managed to pump out another one in 2009 called Fate & Consequences: A Tale of Pride & Prejudice. She also just released a book last month called Perfect Fit: A Modern Tale of Pride & Prejudice which I haven't read (I have never gotten excited by the modernizations - maybe someday I'll go on a spree and pound through them all). Chance Encounters, for the first couple of chapters, had me grinning and giggling like Charlotte Palmer. There is no other word I can use but tickled to describe how much I enjoyed the premise. Bingley has postponed his residency at Netherfield, delaying the time when he and Darcy meet the Bennets. As she attends the theater in London with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth catches Darcy's eye and both are instantly smitten. Unfortunately, as the book progresses it grows less compelling. Still, on my first read, I could barley put it down. It was only on my second pass through that I grew impatient, both with the bad editing and the amount of sexual content (since I was unconcerned with missing plot I just skipped over those scenes).
Fate & Consequences is a much more polished text than Chance Encounters but I didn't enjoy it as much. This story strays a bit from the standard "What If?" formula by not changing the action of a particular moment in Pride & Prejudice but what happened before the story began. Here Georgiana Darcy actually departs Ramsgate with Wickham and Darcy, along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, is forced to pursue them. Where do they catch up with elopers? Meryton of course, giving Elizabeth the opportunity to comfort a distraught Georgiana and begin a correspondence with her. It's a fun concept but it just didn't grab me in the same way that Chance Encounters did. Still, a worth while read.
I am sure that there are many more examples of "What If?" stories circulating online, I just haven't read them. If anyone would be so kind as to bring the better ones to my attention I would appreciate it.
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