Prior to the Fall 2011 all I knew about Jane Austen was that she was an English author. I knew one of her novels, Pride & Prejudice. Now as an English major I am ashamed to admit that I only knew this because I watched the movie. Afterwards I considered whether I should read the book but decided against it. What would I really care to read about some lovey dovey sappy love story? The movie was okay but I didn’t have much hope for the book — this is why you should always read the book first!
The first novel we read was Sense & Sensibility and had Dr. Smith not been one of my favorite professors I would have dropped the course right after reading those first chapters. I could not get on board with Marianne and the mother. Seriously, they were the most annoying characters I had ever encountered. In addition, Jane had focused the first page on some kind of evil brain twister of characters. The more I re-read the passage the more my brain traveled to an abyss of utter confusion.
Looking back, I am glad I didn’t give up on Jane or myself. I honestly felt like I would never be able to relate to her. She was so focused on little details that to me at the time seemed so ridiculously unimportant. In addition, I was also trying to grasp an understanding of how her works could be constructed as polar opposites: sappy love stories or feminist works. Neither label seemed to fit.
So for a majority of class I sat day by day confused and wondering how my peers found so much to talk about or critique. Were they more creative than me? Were they more intelligent? To be honest I even pondered if maybe they could relate to her better than I could because they were White? Yes, I was that confused. As they passionately and sometimes aggressively argued about so and so and such and such I sat in silence watching and listening and praying that I could say one thing so Dr. Smith wouldn’t think I was stupid or worse, that I hadn’t read. I probably should have gone to Dr. Smith but she loved Jane more than any other person I know (even Kelsey, who expressed love for her too). So instead of seeking help I sat in class and tried to contribute whatever little part I understood.
As the semester progressed I met characters like Catherine and John Thorpe in Northanger Abbey. But one of the things I started doing was noticing how the details fit together. Jane was observant and all those details that at first were annoying I began to see as the glue that held everything together. Eventually, I also began to pay attention to the men mentioned in books. Especially after meeting John Thorpe and realizing how much he resembled some of the athletes and frat boys on our campus — if you beg to differ then you’re probably an Isabella and your focus is not on the things that matter. And some people are Emma’s and they try and manipulate things to their liking, but are so clueless to everything else.
Then I was introduced to Fanny and Edmund in Mansfield Park and they easily became one of the most frustrating characters I’d ever met. Why couldn’t they both just grow a backbone? Why couldn’t they just be together!
And slowly everything became to unravel in my eyes. I realized that Jane’s stories were love stories but also real critiques about a society in which she once lived. In her society a good man was hard to find — I mean isn’t it now still hard? Probably even harder with all the technology to “bring us closer together” but really just closer to Facebook — stalk someone and have this preconceived idea of who they are.
I began to pay attention to details and picking and choosing which qualities I admired and which I absolutely despised in the men and the women.
And then I realized I could identify with bits and pieces of each of main characters in Jane’s books. For as much as I disliked Marianne after my first serious college boyfriend broke my heart I too wished I could run out in the rain. I am serious, I was in Oregon and wondering where was the rain so I could sit outside and cry. I was also practical like Elinor. I was independent like Lizzie, and direct and honest like Catherine. And just like Catherine, my ex boyfriend’s family did not think I was good enough for him because they were what he called “a little racist.” Like Willoughby he had played with my heart and led me on until he was ready to let go. He had complete control of our relationship and like Marianne I had let him have that control.
In Jane’s time it seemed to me that while men controlled the society that little power women had was to end up with the right kind of man. The wrong choice left women with very little power because it meant social and financial disaster. And that was mainly what drove this society. I began to think of how lucky I was, growing up poor in a country where I could potentially work to become someone instead of something. The heroines in Jane’s novels were all driven by that idea that, while they got married they went on to become someones and not just something — not just a wife. Here was the feminist label.
During this time the heroines and other women relied on carriage rides and social dances to figure out who was a suitable mate. And this is where the romance comes in. What separated them from the rest of their society was that they went beyond the system in place. Lizzie refused to marry unless she was in love. Elinor had the patience to wait for the man she loved. Marianne was not afraid to love passionately, even if to others she seemed foolish. Catherine stood out from her society because she was a simple girl — almost like the down to earth girl next door. Emma, she thought she knew everything only to find she knew nothing at all. Fanny, she was shy and people forgot about her but she also made them think, she was one of the most complex of all.
So where am I getting to with all of this? We had a discussion at some point on which of the men we all liked. I realized I didn’t like any of them. They all had flaws that I couldn’t deal with, little gory pieces of themselves that wouldn’t be compatible with the little gory pieces of me. I liked the sophistication of Darcy but he was too stiff for my taste. I wanted to find someone well versed like him. Someone you wouldn’t expect to love so passionately because it seemed completely out of character. But I also wanted someone like Colonel Brandon who would be patient, loyal and kind. I wanted someone charming like Willoughby. But thoughtful and sincere like Edmund. However, he also had to be chivalrous, clever and sarcastic like Henry Tinley. Finally, he had to be honest and straightforward like George Knightley.
I had all these qualities that I was looking for in campus full of John Thorpes and Willoughbys. I was sure I would never find someone who would meet my qualifications. It didn’t matter then because I wasn’t looking for anyone. And that’s another thing I feel I had in common with most of the heroines, while they were in a society where they had to find matches most of them found them in the uncommon places. When I finally found what I considered a suitable match I was too scarred from my previous relationship to let it last. I found in R— all of the qualities I was looking for. He met absolutely everyone single one of them. I felt like the luckiest girl. It was on Jane Austen night that we began to hang out and get to know each other. The gory bits of me, and the gory bits of him fit perfectly. I didn’t believe in love, I still don’t but I believe there are very few people you can be yourself with, and R— was that person for me. Unfortunately, recently I decided to let him go. Jane taught me that when you care for someone — when you truly care for someone you do what is best for them. While he was patient with me, my previous scars impeded me from moving forward with the relationship. He had Marianne’s vulnerability the one Willoughby broke long ago. And the one my ex broke years ago. It’s that vulnerability that allows you to believe that love is real, that things can work and that you might actually be able to spend your whole life with this person. I always wondered how Marianne fell so quickly in love with Colonel Brandon and whether their love was real. I envy Jane’s characters because they all get lucky and find that one person who is close to perfect for them on the first try. I wish I had met R— on the first try. But alas I did not. And so like many of the heroines I ran away from love. I let R— go because when you care for someone you want to protect them from being hurt, and I want to protect him from me. From the gory pieces of me that might in turn shatter that innocence belief that he is in love.
Upon leaving the class Dr. Smith gave us her “Non Academic” Objectives for the class. My favorites were: to remember that trying to understand other people — using yourself as the sole measure — is a great way to never understand other people. I’ve applied this to my life. If I had not followed this objective and encountered Jane, I would have dismissed R— as just another Willoughby on campus. By giving him an opportunity to show me who he really was rather than who I thought he was or should be I was given the opportunity to experience an amazing relationship. I was in my own little love story; the kind of story that completely sweeps you off your feet before you realize that they’re no longer touching the ground. And when you come to that realization it’s a pleasant surprise. My encounter and time with R— will be with me until the end of my days. The other objective was to come back to Austen — maybe in a year, or ten, or twenty — and see what she has to say to me then. I plan to do just that. And secretly I hope that maybe I can come back to R— at a time when maybe I am ready to believe in love again.
