Fandom Acts of Kindness

AKA Mr. Baldwin

So last night the entire fam sat down to watch The King's Speech, which, apart from wondering if I will now hear my eight-year-old's stuffed animals spouting strings of British curses, was enjoyed by all. It was the second time through for the hub and me, which meant I was able to tear my eyes from Colin Firth and notice the actor playing Mr. Baldwin. "Who?" you ask. Doesn't matter. Another character in the movie. Sink me if that wasn't Anthony Andrews! "Who?" you ask again, growing impatient. Allow me to explain.

In 6th grade, Ivanhoe aired on network television and created a sensation among us pre-adolescent girls unrivaled by anyone or anything since the bygone days of Leif Garrett or Shaun Cassidy. Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe! Despite his wretched first name and unfathomable attachment to the insipid Rowena, he set our hearts beating and we talked of little else for days.

In a fit of fandom, I bought a copy of Sir Walter Scott's masterpiece and prepared to time travel to the age of chivalry, Anthony Andrews, and Olivia Hussey once more. Finding a cozy corner where I wouldn't be interrupted, I held my breath and plunged in!

Only to bog down in the dullest, slowest opening to a novel that I'd encountered in my twelve years. Good heavens! Some wandering pilgrim and some yokel meeting in the road and talking and talking and--yawn!--talking. (Think opening of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, only not quite that awful.) Had my 40+-year-old self met such a beginning, I would have cast the book aside by page fifteen, but as it was, I slogged away. After all, hadn't my beloved Betsy Ray from my beloved Betsy-Tacy series adored Ivanhoe? (And hadn't her classmates all hated it?)

Perseverance paid off. The book is a thrill. Still one of my favorites which I re-read occasionally, after skimming the first twenty pages. And I've put the 1982 production in the Netflix queue, to see how well it's held up.

As for Anthony Andrews, he went from triumph to triumph. 1982 also saw the airing of The Scarlet Pimpernel, based on a novel by Baroness Orczy. Sink me, if I didn't run right out and read that book, too. Anthony Andrews could have sold my 6th-grade self anything. Had the man starred in War and Peace, that novel would not still be languishing on my to-read list.

True fans climb every mountain. After all, what is my upcoming novel The Beresfords except fan fiction, of sorts? I read my first Jane Austen in high school (P&P, of course) and Mansfield Park when I was twenty or so. Nowadays, if you love something, you not only read the book and buy the action figures, you start a fake Twitter account and write spin-offs. It's all good.

I'd love to hear from some of you. Anything inspire you to "read the book" when you were younger? How about more recently?

Hit Me with Your Best Shot

(This brave boy courtesy of Modern Medicine Image Gallery)

In Christina Thompson's memoir/history Come on Shore and We Will Kill and Eat You All: A New Zealand Story, she recounts an anecdote from her (Maori) husband's childhood, where a doctor tried to give him a shot in the heel of his foot, but his skin was so tough from going barefoot that it bent the needle!

We should all be so lucky.

Whenever we put something out there for public consumption we risk the world's criticism, its random meanness, or its downright targeted meanness. My husband knew a fellow pastor who, some years ago, upon greeting people at the door post-service, was told by one of his congregants, "That was the worst sermon I've heard in twenty-five years." Really? Really truly? If the man attended fairly regularly, say, forty times per year, that was the worst sermon he'd heard out of the thousand? It's almost a wraparound criticism: one so incredibly harsh and unhelpful that it becomes almost complimentary. If I were that unfortunate pastor, I might be tempted to get a button printed and wear it: "Preacher of the Worst Sermon since 1975." Or brag about it on the church message board: "Join us this Sunday and have your time wasted and ears battered by some absolutely stink-awful preaching."

I feel fortunate that my books so far have only garnered a few reviews along the this-really-sucks-big-time line, maybe because I'm personally acquainted with a large share of my readership, and if they have a problem with the book they either (1) keep it to themselves, or (2) come and tell me personally. But there are the negative comments and reminders that, hmmm...my skin will need to thicken up a little more if I plan on bending any needles. Random meanness I try to disregard, but valid criticism I never want to bounce off me. Was James a bore in Mourning Becomes Cassandra? Should I have tied up Gladys' storyline better in Everliving? My writing should get better and better, right--not worse and worse?

All of which is to say, I've finished the rough draft of my latest novel (tentatively titled The Beresfords) and sent it to my critique group, so now I sit on tenterhooks, waiting to see if it's any good. I love it, of course, having conceived it and labored over it for about six months so far, but it remains to be seen if this newest baby of mine has "a face only a mother could love."

I haven't come up with the streamlined copy for it yet, but I've posted here and here and here some of the thoughts that went into The Beresfords. Basically, it's the contemporary story (opens in 1985) and coming of age of a girl raised with her sort-of cousins. She loves her cousin Jonathan in particular and has to watch as he goes off with a girl who's all wrong for him. If you've read Jane Austen's Mansfield Park you know the drill. The fun in writing it was wrestling with how to update a very of-its-time storyline and render one of Austen's least-loved heroines more sympathetic (to others, I mean--I adore Fanny Price in MP).

After I've taken into account corrections and revisions, some version of the book should be available in a few months. And who knows? You may love it, or you may think it the worst book you've read in twenty-five years, in which case, be sure to tell me in front of a lot of people. (That was a joke, in case you happen to be that mean man who ripped into the pastor.) Here's hoping I don't have to get those buttons printed up...

Happy Birthday, Jane Austen!

Recently discovered portrait? She only looks 70, tops!

Despite a million things on the to-do list (of which I have only crossed off two), I'm in danger of sinking happily into a Jane Austen binge. Some months ago, a friend and I sold a "Jane Austen Book Club Tea" at a charity auction for the estimable Eastside Academy. And tomorrow morning, on Jane Austen's very 236th birthday (December 16, 1775), the happy purchasers will enjoy:

• tea and scones,
• orange-pomegranate salad, 
• a make-your-own-Regency-hat craft, and 
• a discussion of the ever-beloved Pride and Prejudice. 

What a lovely way to spend a December morning! I suspect not everyone will have found time in this busy season to (re-)read the book, but--for Pete's sake--is there a single literate woman on the planet remaining who hasn't seen the Colin Firth production?

This man loves my scones

I've had Jane Austen on the brain for months, of course, being somewhat hard at work on my Mansfield Parkish novel, but it had been a while since I looked over some of her correspondence. Her letters are homey, funny, delightful. Full of nuggets for both fans and aspiring writers.

Consider this quote, which might very well be a modern author complaining about pirated books and e-lending: "People are more ready to borrow and praise, than to buy -- which I cannot wonder at; but tho' I like praise as well as anybody, I like what Edward calls Pewter too."

Speaking of pewter, Austen reaped L680 from her books during her lifetime, a not insignificant sum for a dependent, unmarried woman. But compare that to Darcy's annual income of L10,000! Yes, clearly Pride and Prejudice's hero was the "subject of schoolgirl fantasy," as Sting would put it.

Elsewhere Austen records that her brother Henry is reading Mansfield Park and "his approbation has not lessened." Moreover he "admires H[enry] Crawford -- I mean properly, as a clever pleasant man." I, too, admire the tricky characters of Henry and Mary Crawford and how fine a line their creator walks between making them delightful and dreadful. So far I have no idea if I'm achieving success with my versions of the Crawfords, but I can hope...

Nice to know too that, apart from drafts of Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice composed in her early years, Austen didn't get down to the nitty-gritty of cranking out, polishing and publishing novels until her mid-thirties. And by your mid-thirties in the 19th century you already had one toe in the grave, if not a whole foot. Austen didn't even reach her 42nd birthday, after all. (If you ever needed a reminder that, really, you haven't managed to do much with your life, spend time meditating on what Jesus managed to accomplish by 33 and Jane Austen by 41. Kind of demoralizing.)

Take a brief time-out from the Christmas rush in honor of dear Jane. Curl up with a cup of tea and a chapter from one of her novels. Look up the alternate proposal scene between Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot. Weigh in on the debate over Austen's newly discovered "portrait." Try to picture Emma Stone in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Watch my favorite "about Jane" movie Becoming Jane. (Yeah, it's pretty much made up, but there are some nice touches. Tom LeFroy really was "a very great admirer of Tom Jones" and James McAvoy is lovely playing him.)

Happy birthday to Jane!

Mansfield Park Book Club Kicks Off!

Welcome virtual book club participants, those who comment and those silent lurkers (you know who you are)! Thanks for all the input last week on your favorite Austen book and adaptation. Feel free to go back and throw your two cents' in whenever you like.

Before we get cracking on Fanny & Company, just thought I'd bring up the new Mansfield Park opera (!!!) version I've discovered in my online wanderings. (Check this YouTube trailer for it.) Despite being season-ticket holders of the San Francisco Opera in the early days of our marriage, I confess to not being a super fan of the art form. In my plebeian head I think, "Why must it take everyone so stinking long to say anything???" Plus, I can't understand half of what they're saying. That trailer, for instance--the first word sounds like "Archiba-a-a-a-ald!" Give me a good play any day. Nevertheless, for those of you with more musical training and patience, you may want to see when the opera version hits a location near you. Like Capesthorne Hall, Cheshire.

Onward.

First, some background notes. In 1814, Mansfield Park was Austen's third novel to be published (fourth to be written), after Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice, but before Emma. It had a small printing but sold out quickly. However, a second edition was not put out until 1816. The novel was probably begun in early 1811, the same year in which George, Prince of Wales, was named Prince Regent in place of his mad father George III. In the same year, Luddites began their rampage through industrializing counties, destroying textile machines that took their jobs away. Venezuela and Paraguay declared their independence. In 1812, the British were fighting both Napoleon (who invaded Russia) and the United States.

With all this in mind, what did you think of the first three chapters, the "set-up"? What did you think Fanny had in common with other Austen heroines, and how was she different? Does this novel strike you as different in tone than the earlier ones, or not?

What about Edmund being destined for the clergy? Austen's father was a clergyman. After P&P, did it surprise you to have a respectable character put forward as a clergyman?

For the next post, let's read through Chapter 28. When the novel was first published in volumes, this is where the first volume ended. You may find this plot summary of Lover's Vows helpful.

Anyone for an Online Book Club?

It is a truth universally acknowledged that even die-hard fans of Pride and Prejudice have not read Mansfield Park. Perhaps because it's significantly less frothy than P&P or Emma, or because readers have little patience with a heroine who spends much of her time shrinking away from notice and watching someone make off with the love of her life.

Let me lay all my cards on the table and confess that Mansfield Park has always been one of my favorites. If the Bennet girls operate under the ticking time bomb of the entail, they at least have each other, their looks, and their wits. In MP, Austen isolates Fanny Price from all possible aid. She has no money, she is separated from her dear brother, she has an overbearing aunt, and she loses her favorite cousin's attentions to that delightful siren Mary Crawford. Fanny is on her own.Though not unintelligent, Fanny is no wit, no life of the party. But while she may shrink on the outside, the girl is rock-solid underneath.

Stay away from this woman.

She is, moreover, a keen, keen observer like her creator, and MP boasts some of Austen's most wonderful creations. The bustling Aunt Norris and indolent Aunt Bertram (whose pug dogs deserve a shout-out of their own). The rival sisters Maria and Julia--who recall Persuasion's Louisa and Henrietta Musgrove, without their good nature. And best of all, Henry and Mary Crawford, the worldly brother and sister pair who come to Mansfield and wreak amorous havoc. Mary has the honor of telling the only dirty joke in Austen, and playboy Henry might be arguably Austen's most complex character. That Jane Austen could so fully imagine (and revel in) "wicked" characters while maintaining sympathy for the "good" Fanny demonstrates her remarkable breadth, as well as the divide in her own heart!

Mansfield Park has been on the old brain recently because, among my many writing starts, I've got a few chapters of a novel "inspired by" it, in the same way the movie Clueless was "inspired by" Emma. Tangentially, this book would fit in the Cass Ewan series because the Edmund character gets mentioned at least once by name in Mourning Becomes Cassandra or The Littlest Doubts (I'll have to search on Google Books to remember where!). We'll see how it goes. The draft is a little messy so far, but I'm on Chapter Five. If it makes it over the Chapter Six hump (where my failed novels all go to die, or at least go into limbo), I'll keep you posted.

And this one, with her inexplicably loose hair!

All of which is to say, would anyone like to join me for an online MP book club? Get your hands on a copy (free on Kindle and, I imagine, Nook) and read the first three chapters. We could meet back here next week, or try it "live" on Facebook or Twitter. So far I've gotten two readers to join me. Anyone else?

Warning: DON'T watch the movie adaptations! Apart from the ancient BBC version (in which everyone is oddly hideous), the more recent versions are complete flights of fancy. Okay--not complete flights of fancy, but NOT the book, in any case. They will ruin you.

I warned you about these guys

In the 1999 film version, the filmmakers thought Fanny wouldn't be exciting enough on her own, so they filled her mouth with feisty speeches and scenes lifted from Austen's own juvenalia, after which it didn't make sense for such a spirited creature to be crushed the way she is. In the 2007 BBC blondie version I could not get past the hairdo and sexpot Fanny. And then just take a look at the old BBC cover and tell me if you could spend several hours watching such people. Ay ay ay.

Now that we've cleared that up, let me know if you'd like to join us!

************
Let's kick off our virtual book club with two general questions (please answer here, so everyone can see and respond):

1. What is your favorite Austen book, and why?
2. What is your favorite TV or movie adaptation of an Austen book?

Elements of a Good Love Story (EOGLS), Part IV

(If you missed EOGLS Parts I-III, check back on my website: www.christinadudley.com.)

Recently my book club read Elizabeth Gaskell's WIVES AND DAUGHTERS, a surprisingly enthralling novel, considering its heft, and one that echoes elements of Austen's MANSFIELD PARK and anticipates Eliot's MIDDLEMARCH. We highly recommend it, but you absolutely must know that Gaskell died before finishing it. Croaked. Kicked the bucket. Gave up the ghost. And, most importantly, put down the pen.

What does this mean? It means the satisfying scene between the devoted heroine and her recently-enlightened lover does not exist. The book ends abruptly with the stepmother wanting a new shawl or something, and then an editor picks up with a "p.s. Gaskell died." What??? In desperation, the thwarted reader then turns to the recent BBC production for a denouement. You'll have to do the same and let me know if it worked for you.

Maybe Gaskell was taking a page from MANSFIELD PARK, which has Austen's least satisfying lover-resolution to a very similar love triangle, apart from Austen's similarly terse sentences in NORTHANGER ABBEY.

All of which brings me to this post's Element of a Good Love Story: details. Not make-out details, but rather, what is each lover thinking and going through? I'm fine if the author wants to hide these things for most of the book, but at some point, I want those details. Who didn't finally breathe a sigh of relief to know what Rhett Butler or Maxim de Winter was thinking? And oftentimes the thinking-and-feeling details provide the reader (and main character) more satisfaction than any physical consummation. Think LOVE IN THE TIME OF CHOLERA. Or even Starbuck and Apollo in Battlestar Galactica. (I'm only in Season 3, but did anyone else think things went from poignant to sordid when those two got together?)

I'd love to hear your favorite detailed love scenes, as well as least favorite.