Um what? you protest.
You heard me right. The recipies to Jane’s books. Boom.
I was wondering, for some infinitely strange reason, what Jane Austen’s novels seem like they’re made of.
Can I repeat: um, WHAT?
Would an example do? Marvel’s, for kicks, would be something like metal, lightning, lots of elastic (yikes!), and screaming…plus the color green. (I’m sorry, that was unkind. I love Marvel.)
So whether you understand it or not, I’m throwing you in.
Again I say, BOOM.
Warning: I wrote all of this when I was dog tired…which wasn’t smart. Proceed at your own risk.
Pride & Prejudice
I can hardly come up with the right words to describe this incredibly loved book! It’s so vivid, so passionate and vibrant and full of so many arguments and debates, that to me, it seems made out of fire, passion, and poetry. The remarkable wit, climatic events and captivating, brilliant characters makes Pride & Prejudice a true masterpiece.
Oh, the book that started this crazy post. I feel like Mansfield Park is just so full of heart and grace, that I have to break it’s beauty down somehow. I feel like it’s made out of gentle breezes and springtime; everything sweet, beautiful, and gentle. It’s got such a soft heart to it that makes it so endearing and heart-rending.
Ah, Emma. My guilty pleasure. If I had to come up with a “recipe” for Emma, I’d say it’s made out of wit and delight; sunshine and laughter and silk. I know that might sound a little bit more than odd, but it’s just because the book is such a delightful, sunny, happy little read with (seemingly) only the hilarious cares of Emma to cause any disruption. But it’s got an active plot, though, and is not absent of the ups and downs of good writing or the suspense that makes them great. The characters, too, are everything charming, refined, and smooth; there is no such thing as a flat main character in Emma as I see it. I just can’t describe how enjoyable and happy this read is along with how alternately deep, provocative, and wonderfully hopeless it can be as well. It is so very close to being my favorite Austen novel (I see you, Pride & Prejudice!) and my words can’t do it justice. You’re going to have to read it. ;)
Sense & Sensibility
Oh, Jane, you have me here. My only “ingredients” for Sense & Sensibility are tears: happy laughing tears and the real-deal-sad-and-there’s-no-use-stopping-me kind of tears. This is undoubtedly (to me, at least) the heaviest of Jane’s works as the ending wasn’t quite what I expected and some violent twists came along the way. But it was as light as it was heavy, as strange as that may seem. :)
The simple happiness of this novel and the fun the author sincerely seemed to have in writing it, plus all the quirks of Catherine, the many balls in the beginning, and her love of the country makes me makes me think of pearls and dreams and ladies’ twitching fans, country grass, overgrown ivy, and green velvet. Everything pleasing to the senses and everything that makes one laugh with delight belong to it. (Is it obvious the love I have for this novel?)
Pssh, see? You’re still alive. With only a few years worth of damage from nerd scarring. You’re welcome.