"And to this purpose"

"If people like to read their books, it is all very well, but to be at so much trouble in filling great volumes, which, as I used to think, nobody would willingly ever look into, to be labouring only for the torment of little boys and girls, always struck me as a hard fate; and though I know it is all very right and necessary, I have often wondered at the person's courage that could sit down on purpose to do it." (In other words: rambling analyses, opinions, ideas, views, and comments from an English major, Essay/paper-writing enthusiastic, Austen-loving Master Librarian on, well, Jane Austen...and a whole lot of other things, too.)

"Celebrated Passages are Quoted"

Heidi's favorite quotes


"What is it really like to be engaged?" asked Anne curiously. "Well, that all depends on who you're engaged to," answered Diana, with that maddening air of superior wisdom always assumed by those who are engaged over those who are not."— L.M. Montgomery

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

"I Know Exactly How You Feel"

First, name that movie quote.

Second, I really do. With some of Austen's characters any how. That has always been one thing I love of Austen's writing. She creates the most realistic characters. You will see people with those traits in all walks of life. And as you meet/see/know them, you can't help but think (if you are a knowledgeable Janeite), "Oh, she is such a Miss Bingley" or "That poor Colonel Brandon" or "I'm trying so hard to understand this Jane Fairfax!"

I find my own self identifying with varying aspects of various Austen characters.

Like Charlotte Lucas. Worried that at our similar ages and "without having ever been handsome" and other more glaring flaws that my chances at "the only honourable provision for a well-educated young wom[a]n of small fortune" are rather minimal. Of course, hopefully unlike Charlotte I will not settle, and will take advantage of the bends in my road and let my spirit fly unfettered.

Like Fanny Price. Who tries to go about doing right and going by her heart, and yet still gets question and berated--by those who should trust she knows her own feelings and leave her to her convictions. 

Like Emma Woodhouse. Who can be "so unfeeling to" others, and yet am properly remonstrated either by loved ones or my own self and then feel "anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern....[s]o agitated, mortified, grieved."

Like Anne Elliot. Who once loved someone so deeply and shared everything she could with him, only to later be constantly in his presence and suffer the agonies of not being able to speak as freely as in former times. To no longer be able to share the dreams, wishes, thoughts, desires, hopes, and revelations of her mind and heart. Instead, to watch and endure almost daily the painful severance that persistently presents itself to her. Like her, I do "not wish for more of such looks and speeches...cold politeness...ceremonious grace...[they are] worse than anything." I would prefer to open my heart again. To have again my best friend. Yet this is not to be. So, perhaps, instead I will soon move on as Anne did who "found herself by this time growing so much more hardened to being in [his] company than she had at first imagined could ever be, that the sitting down to the same table with him now, and the interchange of common civilities attending on it...was become a mere nothing."

Like Catherine Morland. Who is overflowing with flaws, and yet still eventually have a Henry Tilney--so clever, intelligent, humorous, considerate, forgiving, understanding, and accepting--come along and love her. I will have my own Henry some day. I know that. Until then, I suppose like Catherine I'll "remain...at [home] to cry." Well, and have some fun and happiness, too. 

1 comment:

the letter Bee said...

Hi I saw you on MMB and I had to stop over because I an a fellow Austenite. :p Great blog!